#blogging so I can be reminded of being all happy about this when I’m not drinking lol

[truelovepolinator]

So, Nicola said the words. Now what? Well, I’m still sat on the Lido deck enjoying my Piña Colada.

First, I want to say, I restrict my Lukola musings to this place (and the discord I recently joined). I’m not sharing my theories out in the big, wide world out of respect for them. I don’t want either my certainty or my candor about the game our lovebirds are playing (out of necessity) to hurt them in any way.

That’s why I’m so glad to have found this place. The quiet, little tumblr community and the serious, closed-lip Lukola community is relatively small and respectful. True blue shippers understand what’s happening and we keep the faith (and keep our mouths shut to the outside world). My musings are for this group alone.

I mention this because I believe that anyone reading my blog, or fellow bloggers, who feel that Lukola is real and happening now, both love and respect Nic and Luke. We want them to be happy.

We support Lukola in making the choices that are good for them. Let them say and do what they need to in order to keep themselves safe and peaceful. If we’re rooting for their happiness and success, then we need to let them publicly create the narrative that enables them to do that.

But for those of us on the ship, we sometimes need to prop each other up and remind us all why we’re willing to sail these sometimes choppy seas. With yesterday’s release of the Gold Derby interview, and the much discussed “just friends” line, now seems like one of those times.

Because rest assured, friends, this line is no cause for concern. I know the jakolas are celebrating this as a win, and good for them. I’m glad they’re happy. They’re saying (and will continue saying) that we’re delusional. “After everything we’ve seen,” they’ll say, “she finally said the words you’ve been waiting for. Now do you see?” Cool. We can agree to disagree, and I support them in their opinions.

Because I know exactly what I see.

I’ve covered the reasons NicLuke would lie about/cover up their relationship several times, but with this latest interview, those reasons bear a quick review:

- Nic is a feminist who doesn’t want to be defined by her relationship or a man. She doesn’t want to be “someone’s girlfriend” (or wife), which she has said explicitly.

- Nic has always been intensely private about her love life (even before she was an uber famous It Girl). Would she really decide to change that now when the spotlight is even brighter?

- Not wanting to be branded as a couple and lose their identities. Both Nic and Luke are hitting new levels of success with Season 3. They need to capitalize on that as individual actors respected for their performances.

- Nicola is the moment. She deserves her time in the sun without being reduced to half of a famous couple (even if the other half is “perfect” Luke)

- Luke is a hot guy with newly opened doors after season 3. The SMA spread helped cement that perception. Remaining “single” publicly helps maintain that persona, increasing his marketability.

- Public scrutiny and pressure on famous couples is enormous. There’s an expectation of perfection when, spoiler alert, they’re actually human beings who probably get pretty messy sometimes like everyone else. And might even have had a messy road to this point that they’d rather not lay bare to the world. Scrutiny also means every action gets judged, and should things not work out (heaven forbid!), the whole world would watch their heartbreak.

And those are just the highlights.

In addition to all of this, there are even more reasons they might want to be extra careful and private right now:

- Nicola is nominated for a major acting award, by her peers no less. The absolute last thing she’d want would be for industry peers to dismiss her performance because they think she was actually in love with Luke, not acting. We’ve all watched it (doubtless many times) and know how beautiful and nuanced both their performances were throughout, covering the gamut of emotions with huge range, regardless of any personal feelings they may have had at the time. But “story” is important in an awards race and she definitely does not want THAT to be the perceived story.

- Besides which, quite apart from actually winning the award, just the nomination will open doors for her. But again, she needs to detach from that story to ensure she’s taken seriously.

- There’s also the delicate other matter that is 1,000% reason enough to batten down the hatches and shut down the scrutiny asap.

But if people are still anxious, here are a few more things I’ve been reflecting on that have reassured me and might just reassure you as well:

- The video where Bessie says, “A couple of people fell in looove, I gueeesss.” I mentioned this in my previous blog (linked below) and @dianis307817 asked about it, so I’ll attach it at the bottom for your delight and reassurance (that part specifically is at the end)

- I had a little switch flip yesterday about Nicola’s “a lot of people want me to marry Luke” comment in the Time interview. We all said then, “Nic, we just wanted you to be together. Nobody (fans) was talking about marriage! That’s all you, girl.” But yesterday, I processed it in a different context and thought, “that’s what a mom who says ‘that’s the one’ says to her daughter.” I thought about this briefly back when this first came out, but something about it clicked into place for me yesterday. Marriage is the thing friends and family push when they know she’s with the right guy. And she didn’t say, “a lot of people want me to BE with Luke” or “get together with Luke.” She said marriage, which is predicated on them already being in the relationship. (I’m sure others thought about it this way previously, but this clarity in this moment for me was useful perspective.) As we see again and again, Nic has been telling us all along.

- In that interview and in Paris, she is STILL WEARING THAT RING. And in fact, in Paris, she had a small gold ring on her left ring finger, which we saw when she was caught spontaneously for the magic trick. That finger change could purely be due to the delicate matter. But a gold ring of any ilk, Claddagh or otherwise, on that specific finger is 👀

- Notably, she removed her rings entirely at the Dior show when she knew she’d be photographed extensively. Or again, possibly for the above mentioned reason.

- And finally, there continue to be signs of the delicate matter that I prefer not discuss. But she’s not wearing acrylics lately (interview or Paris), she had non-alcoholic beer at the Big Boys premiere, and several of the designs she’s worn have had an M (not size Medium) on them. Also, she hedged in the interview about who would go to the SAG Awards, saying she wasn’t sure about the shooting schedule. But since she’s the only solo nominee and LW, if Shondaland is sending a contingent, they would definitely clear her schedule to be in it. So why hedge — if she’s able to travel?

To me, all of the above assure me the story has been and continues to be consistent.

Indeed, saying “just a friend” is entirely consistent with the camouflage strategy to date. All the reasons she’s avoided being open about the relationship until this time are all the reasons she would finally force herself to lie in this moment.

In fact, if I had to guess, I’d say the questions were agreed upon in advance and she was prepared with that answer, braced and ready to say what she has to say. Gold Derby is very much an industry awards focused site, featuring and hyping nominees. Interviews generally focus on *the work.* It’s not an entertainment gossip site or morning TV show. All these months later, when NicLuke hasn’t been seen together in 6+ months and the larger cultural conversation has very much moved on from World Tour chemistry, would an industry guy really still be asking a salacious question about her love life? And expecting that she would spontaneously admit to something *now* when she hasn’t uttered so much as a single peep until now? It feels much more like a set-up to give her the opportunity to explicitly say the words she hoped she could avoid saying.

Nic has said before that she finds it really hard to be disingenuous, and I think anyone who’s watched her for more than five minutes can see that. She’s so authentic and as real as she can be, which is why until now she’s found a hundred different ways to deflect the question without saying, “just friends.” She didn’t want to say those words because they’re not true. But when push comes to shove… when the crucial privacy of her family at a critical time is at stake… let alone careers and future gigs and maybe even awards are at stake… she will do what she needs to do. She will smile and say the words she doesn’t want to say.

Remember, Tomdaya said they were “just friends,” too. Have you seen the ring on Zendaya’s finger recently? And speaking of rings, have you seen the ring on Nic’s finger?

Meanwhile, right after the begrudging “just friends” line, she’s asked if there’s anything wrong with Luke. Do you see the way her face lights up when she says he’s perfect? That’s her real answer. She can’t even find one single thing to tease him about? Not a single flaw that she would reveal to the world? Something small and good natured? That’s a girl in love and I don’t care what you say.

Let the antis and the jakolas and everyone else think what they want. It just doesn’t matter. And in fact, the more people who buy those stories (including all the variants of the story), the better for Nicola and Luke. People believing those stories is the goal and helps protect them. Especially Nicola, whom I believe needs safety and peace more than ever right now.

As always, we don’t know them, and I allow for the possibility that I could be wrong. But despite Nic’s protestations (the lady doth protest too much, methinks), I’m sitting tight on the Lukola, ordering another drink.

Only Nic and Luke matter and they get to write the public story. I still believe they will come out some day, when they’re ready. When they feel safe, when they feel secure, when they have less risk to their professional brands and careers. Nicola has never gone public with her love life before, and she will always want to be private. As does Luke now, clearly. But I believe they will want to share their truth at some point, and they know how much we want to share in their joy. But it has to be on their terms.

In the meantime, for anyone who needs shoring up, let this bolster you. The ship sails on.

Here’s the full interview if you haven’t seen it or would like a rewatch:

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=tBPOWQYU2sQ

[dumb-doll-lips]

I’m out on a date. But I got to talk to my date and server about body horror video games and that makes me really happy.

[admirationandromantics]

Keeping Warm

Another request, thank you so much. Again, reminding people that these usually take some time!! I loved the concept of this one, and believe me when I say that I love to write smut (blog is 18+ minors get away). It's not exactly like the request, but I still hope you like it.

And Merry Christmas and happy holidays! Not gonna be active today, so please enjoy this one and send requests if you want me to take a look at them later. Have a nice day everyone <3

Basically, reader comes to the lodge with Josh a day earlier to set everything up, and they have to get the guest cabin ready. Snow storm, they're snowed in and have to keep warm (you can imagine where this goes).

Word count: 3,3k (Unedited)

i absolutely adore your work, especially the drugged chocolate ones was such a trip!! i was hoping if you could write about josh and reader being stuck in a snow storm. being stuck somewhere, a car or a small cabin (whatever works for you!) and having to have sex for warmth. i know this request is kind of silly but i could totally imagine josh asking this just to be funny and being shocked that reader agrees to do it.😭 (@dissolvedprincess)

“Should we go and set up the guest cabin for Emily and Mike?” I ask, fluffing the last pillow on the sofa. 

“Are we done here?” Josh comes into the room, looking around for any imperfections. Everything is cleaned, changed and heated up. I take it all in, the coziness of the lodge is like no other. It is perfect. 

“Yes we are, don’t you think?”

He comes up behind me, seeing everything from my perspective. 

“Yeah, looks great, guest cabin next”

We take our jackets, not bothering with extra sweaters and outerwear. We aren’t going to be long, just change the sheets, check if there’s firewood and do a quick cleanup. 

Everyone is arriving at the lodge tomorrow night, and I volunteered to come with Josh to prepare for it. The weekend was going to be awesome. Drinking, dancing and talking. I do have an ulterior motive to the kindness I’m paying him. Usually he does these things himself, but by coming with him, we could get some alone time. Not that it would lead to anything, either way, I enjoy his company. 

We go outside, the snow-filled wind immediately hitting us. I knew it was brewing up for a storm, but I didn’t expect it to come so early. I look over at him, and he has his hand in the air, reaching out for me. I grab it, holding firm so I don’t lose him. We can barely see, barely open our eyes to follow the path before us. 

He leads me down, an occasional swing to the side and a little hill here and there. We walk up a couple of stairs when we suddenly hear a loud wolf’s howl. Fucking hell, was this mountain trying to kill us? Luckily, he’s basically grown up here, and knows by heart the way. I finally glimpse the little cabin in the distance, dark and empty. I collect my last strength, one hand still in his and the other in my pocket to keep its warmth. There’s a bunch of snow in front of the door, but he kicks a little away, as if that’s going to help. Hands go in his pocket, finding the keys. He fumbles with them, finally finding the right one and unlocking the door. He struggles to open it, the snow going too high. I try to help him, using my hands to mow as much of the white coldness away that I can. It finally opens, just enough that one of us can press through at a time. I go first, letting him hold the door open. He quickly follows, squeezing his body through the tight space. 

As the door closes, a blissful silence falls over us. The only sound being the wind howling outside, slamming against the wood walls. I look around the cabin. It’s dark and cold, probably dusty as well. 

“Fuck, what a weather” he exclaims relieved, taking a deep breath and going straight for the bedroom. I follow suit, helping him find new sheets, organising, cleaning stuff away, and sweeping the floor. We share one lamp, moving from room to room as we do the tasks. 

“You know, it was great having someone up here with me this year” 

“Don’t worry about it, give me a treat and I’ll come next year as well”

“You’re that easy?”

“In this area, yes”

He laughs at my response, and I sit down on the couch, finally being able to relax a bit. He sits down beside me, legs touching as he makes himself comfortable. I look over, noticing that his gaze is already on me. Eyes move up and down, taking in every inch of me as I’m laid out on the couch. 

“Staring a bit much are we, Washington?” 

“Can’t help myself”

“I mean, if I was wearing a bikini and sitting in a hot tub, I’d be flattered. But you’re literally looking at wool and a massive jacket” 

“Hey, I know what I’m into, you don’t”

I smile, the playfulness of it all getting to me. 

“I don’t know what you’re into or what I’m into?” 

“The first one you know” 

“That you’re into wool and big jackets” 

“Like thinking about what’s underneath” 

“Good play Josh”

I laugh, standing up and taking a last lap around the cabin. The bedroom’s good, the kitchen’s good and the living room’s great. 

“I think we’re good to go back” 

He stands up as well, grabbing his knees and grunting like an old man. He takes a quick look around, being satisfied with the result. 

“You’re right, it’s starting to get cold” 

We go to the door, and he tries pushing it open. It doesn’t budge. He tries again, putting more force into it than last time. It still doesn’t open. He keeps trying, and I move over to the window to look outside. We’ve been in too long, and the snow is now reaching up to our waists, the storm still going strong. 

“Josh, I don’t think we’ll be able to get out” 

He moves to my side, seeing the snow balling on. 

“Windows” He comments, eyes widening in realisation, glad for the solution he conjured. We try to open it, but to no avail. We try the other one as well, but they’re both frozen shut. 

“Shit, shit, shit” 

“Do you have your phone?”

I reach in my pockets, making myself aware that I left it back at the lodge. He hums, trying to think. 

“Okay, I think I’ll pass sometime during the night, right?”

“I believe so” I try to stay hopeful, even with our clothes, the cabin was freezing. 

“Hey Josh, how about we start a fire?” 

He answers by moving over to the fireplace, sitting down and giving a loud sigh. What was the problem now? 

“Out of firewood” 

“You’re joking” 

“I wish I was” 

I whine out loud. What the hell were we gonna do? The only way out is blocked. Even if we manage to remove some of the snow, the storm would replace it easily, leading to us being exhausted and frozen. 

He walks over, hands going to either side of me and holding tight. I look up, finding his eyes oddly comforting, though being anxious himself. I take a deep breath, meeting his gaze before leaning on him, burying my head in the crook of his neck. I wasn’t going to be so shameless to sniff him, but my body listens before I think. Like warmth and fire, how ironic. 

“Listen, this is going to be great” 

I move away, rolling my eyes and giving him a ‘oh, really’-sarcastic look. He smiles, hands gripping even harder and moving up and down, warming me up. 

“It is! Look, we’ve been cleaning and preparing all day, now we’ll relax, talk and just enjoy the night” 

“Josh, it’s freezing” 

“We have each other. At least I didn’t send you here on your own” He laughs, a playful glint in his eyes. 

“Would you?” 

“Nah, I wouldn’t” 

I sit down on the couch, and he goes into the bedroom to get the covers and some more blankets. We get cozy, sitting beside each other in front of the cold fireplace and telling stories. We talk about Chris and Ashley, as well as Mike and Emily. 

“You have noticed the tension between Jess, Emily and your sister, right?” 

“Who hasn't?” 

We go into detail about our lives, and just now, I realise how little I actually know about him. I haven’t gone beyond surface level, which is partly his fault because of the fake persona he always displays, but still…

“Wait, you had a thing for me?” 

My eyes widen at the realisation, a book which I could never imagine was opened. He once liked me. He thought about me, and felt a certain way. 

“Well, had and had… But, you know”

“Yeah, would be a bit weird for the others, don’t you think?”

“Not as weird as Mike’s triangle-drama” he states, laughing at the man. 

“Isn’t it technically a quadruple-drama?” 

“Wouldn’t that be a foursome?” I think for a minute, intrigued by the affairs. I could be, I bet Mike would love it, but I don’t think that’s the right term. 

“No, that’s just sexual, this is just drama” 

“Speaking of sex and sexual appeal…” Josh starts, and I can help but snort. How the conversation has turned. I never imagined myself talking about this, with him, here. 

“Was all this a plot just to make me tell you this?” 

“Maybe” he answers, a playful smirk on his lips. He loves the direction this is going, he’s intrigued, interested. Of course he is. It’s freaking Josh Washington. 

“Okay then, let me tell you. If we had a fire here, I might do it right here” 

“Really?” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time” 

His eyes widens in surprise, brows furrowing in confusion. Oh, it sounds like I’ve done it ‘here’ before, which is absolutely not what I meant 

“You mean that time you and Sam shared this cabin…”

“No, no! Sorry, I worded that wrong. I just meant to say that fire in itself is a bit of a vibe, mood lighting and all” 

“Ohhh, yeah” 

“Not that I’ve done it here, I’ve never had sex on a mountain before”

“You don’t say” his tone is different, something darkly curious in it. I smile at him, aware that I’ve shared a bunch and he hasn’t shared anything. 

“I do, have you?” 

He pauses, looking at the imaginary fire we’ve constructed, keeping us warm. None of us are, which is why we’re automatically sliding closer and closer. We can’t help it, it’s just instinct at this point. 

“No I have not” 

“I’m surprised” 

“What, why?” 

“Well, bring a girl up to a mountain, your secluded beautiful bachelor pad. Who knows what might happen” 

“Are you saying we should…” 

“You wish Washington” 

He puts his hands up in defeat, grinning at my smiling face. I’ve never connected with him this way before. There’s something different about it, as if everything happening is supposed to. We’re supposed to be trapped here, in the ice cold cabin, fighting for warmth together. 

“Maybe I do” 

I laugh, thinking back on all the things I’ve imagined before. I know I have a dirty mind, but when my thoughts are filled with this man, I can’t help myself. I lean my head against his chest, pulling all the layers over us as I close my eyes. 

“Let me know when the storm is over” 

“You know you should never sleep in situations like these” 

“You’re here, I’ll be okay” 

***

I wake up shivering. The wind is still howling outside, and the room is icy. Josh has his eyes closed, probably sleeping. 

“Psst, Josh” I whisper, my body vibrating as I speak. He opens his eyes, body suddenly aware of the cold air surrounding him. 

“Shit, it’s cold” 

“Should we try to get back to the lodge?” I propose, breathing coming in quick and fast. This was not good. We’re literally going to get hypothermia if we keep like this. He stands up, arms around himself as he looks out the window. 

“It has calmed a bit, but seeing our condition, we’ll not be able to get all the snow away” 

“Fuck” I shutter, pressing the covers harder on me as if it’s going to work. He sits down beside me again, starting to remove his clothing. My mouth opens as he keeps going. 

“What the hell are you doing?” 

“Body heat, take your clothes off” 

“You know the first factor that you have hypothermia is that you want to remove your clothing?” I add, the idea being odd. I know it’s a legit thing, but at this point, the covers seem like the best options. 

“So, I guess you are not reason enough?”

“If I wasn’t freezing to death, I would laugh at that” 

He finally reveals himself, taking the last shirt off before moving to his pants. I shake my head, what am I going to do? 

“What are you waiting for, I’m going to freeze to death alone and you have to wait here for backup with my dead corpse” 

I oblige, starting to take off my clothes. The jacket, the sweater, the shirt… 

“How much am I taking off?” 

“As much as possible” 

“Josh, is it really necessary t-” 

“Oh, fuck it” he exclaims, taking hold of my pants and dragging them off, leaving me only in my underwear. He’s quick to lay down, pulling me on top of him and the covers over us. I almost faint from the warmth. His chest is hot, heart beating rapidly as his cold hands run over my naked back. Our legs tangled together, his crotch by mine as I try not to think about our position. I do my best to adjust my breathing, calming myself and forcing my brain to stop the conjuring of dirty images. The silence is deafening, and I ask the only appropriate question that comes to mind. 

“Why shouldn’t you sleep in situations like these?” 

“What?” 

“I know we shouldn’t, but why?” 

His hand keeps drawing circles on my back, occasionally touching the hem of my bra. 

“Because our body temperature lowers when we sleep, we don’t use as much energy, like an energy-saver” 

“Oh, yeah, makes sense. You keep active and work out so your body gets hotter. It’s such a simple concept, I just didn’t really think about it” I exclaim, a bit embarrassed it didn’t click faster. 

“Yeah… You know, there’s other ways to keep warm too” he continues in a whisper, and I move my head, holding myself up as I look down on him. Our faces inch closer, hot breaths colliding. 

“Like…” his hand moves under the hem of my panties, tugging at the fabric. I feel him getting harder under me, poking at my dripping heat. 

“Like-” I interrupt him with my lips, crashing into him. He answers quickly, opening his mouth and grabbing my ass. He squeezes, causing me to moan into him. My arms fly up, one beside his head and one feeling down his toned stomach. I take him in, his warmth, tracing every curve and muscle. 

I start grinding on him, elevating his hardness and making him groan into me. He grabs my thighs, pushing me closer and moving underneath. My body is on fire, kisses getting sloppier and wetter. One of his hands moves to my heat, letting me grind down on his fingers. 

“So this is how you’ve felt about me all this time” he coos, stroking the wet fabric. I force myself not to make sounds so early, after all, he gets me all worked up so quickly. How am I going to keep it up? 

“I can say the same about you” I state as my hand goes down to cup his bulge. He grabs my thigh harder, a weak attempt at controlling himself. My hand goes to trace the hem of his boxers, teasing him with the movements. He jolts into me, making me yelp and lose my balance, falling over him once again. He grabs the back of my neck pushing my lips down on his. His teeth clasp around my lower lip, definitely colouring it red. 

His hands move up to my back, fiddling with the clasp of my bra. It takes a couple of tries, and I try to hide my smile. 

“Need help?” 

“It’s the position we’re in” 

“What, me on top of you?”

“More the freezing cabin-bit, but maybe you’ve got a point” 

He manages to unhook it, dragging it off my arms and throwing it in the clothing pile. I’m about to kiss him again, when he takes hold of my body, one hand on my back and one on my thigh, and rolls us around, making him lay on top. The action leaves me in surprise, it was unexpected, but so is he. I should always be on my toes around him. 

He captures my lips again, mouth moving to my jaw and down my neck. I can’t help the sounds I make, each one a result of his tender touches. He’s warm and cozy, knowing exactly how to make me melt underneath. His mouth travels down my stomach, leaving kisses and bites all over. I whine at the pain, but he quickly licks and kisses the areas better again. Hands are kneading my breast and thighs, coming slowly up to my wet heat. I grab hold of him, not wanting him to go further down. 

“No, please, stay up here with me” 

It’s cold without his chest against mine, it feels empty and alone. He smiles at my request, pushing himself up again and letting me feel his lips. 

“I’m not saying I don’t want to, but-” 

“I know, we’ll keep each other warm” 

He speaks in a tone I’ve never heard before, making butterflies flap around in my stomach. It’s loving and caring. A deep voice which makes my toes curl. I’ve never felt as safe before. He takes hold of my underwear, dragging it down my legs. I help him, kicking it off my feet. He does the same with his, leaving both of us pressed together, in an ice-cold cabin, with a bunch of blankets, naked. I feel him stroke my folds, his hardness pressed against me. I yearn for him, waiting for him to take the first move. 

He does. Chests pressed up against each other, he lowers himself, slowly filling me up. Head is in the crook of my neck, breathing heavily as he keeps going. Shit, he’s big, not even feeling his thighs yet and still pressing in. 

“You’re doing so good for me” he whispers, breathing unevenly and struggling to form the words. Knowing that he’s also feeling this way makes it better. I take hold of his torso, quickly pushing myself completely down on him. We both moan in response, and he doesn’t waste time, starting to move immediately. The cabin fills up with the sound and smell of sex, whimpers and moans in symphony, no one close enough to hear. We’re here, alone and together. 

His pelvis rubs against mine, giving me that extra bit of friction to my core. It starts building up, the warmth, the withholding pleasure wishing to cave. His arm takes hold of my leg, lifting it up, letting him dig himself even deeper. My back arches as he does, reaching my cervix, pain and pleasure shooting through me at the same time. 

“Fuck, Josh I’m gonna come” 

“Mhm, yeah me too” 

He pumps in and out, almost leaving me before slamming into me again. His hand grabs my side harshly, leaving marks which’ll stay for days. My arms go around him, pressing him harder against me, elevating the friction and rubbing. I can’t help it, my nails digging into his back, scraping and crying for release. His lips capture mine in a passionate kiss, and I finally come, clenching around him. Feeling my whole body twitch with pent up energy and ecstasy. He rides me through it, pumping until he digs himself deep, coating my walls in white release. 

The room is filled with deep breaths, bodies tight as his arms go around me, head moving up to kiss my cheek. I stroke his back hand hair, not getting enough of him. I just had sex with Josh Washington, but… was it just to keep warm? My own insecurities get the better of me, and as if on cue, he meets my eyes with his, looking for something. 

“You okay?” 

“I mean, I’m warm” 

“That’s not what I mean” 

I sigh, the high slowly falling, making my body limb and tired. 

“What happens now?” 

He smiles, leaning down and kissing me again, this time, more romantic, more real. 

“I guess we lay here until the sun comes up. Then we get to the lodge, and maybe we can do this again” 

“Again?” 

“You know, really do it again” 

“Fucking hell Washington, that’s not what I mean” 

“I know what you mean, and you should probably stick to calling me Josh”

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡

♱ ━━━ PAIRING: BANG CHAN X READER ♱ ━━━ CW: CNC, SEX FANTASY, ROLEPLAY (INTRUDER & VICTIM), SEXTING, DEGRADING, PRAISE, ORAL (M. REC), FACIAL, PUSSY SLAP, MIRROR SEX, DYCRYPHILIA, HAIR PULLING, MIRROR SEX, RECORDING, FINGERING, MANHANDLING, CHOKING, SPANKING, UNPROTECTED SEX, FEAR PLAY, “NO” IS SAID BUT IS NOT A SAFEWORD, CLIT PLAY, MULTIPLE ROUNDS, CREAMPIES (2), AFTERCARE ♱ ━━━ WC: 2.6K ♱ ━━━ NOTE: ♱ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Chan sighed as he looked at the text message. He truly did spoil his girlfriend, but he loved doing it. He always gave in to what she wanted since she knew she’d only ask if she really wanted it. If his princess wanted him to fuck her dressed like a serial killer, he would. 

     He worked for another hour before packing up and heading home to his girlfriend. Almost forgetting about the conversation till he walked through the door to their apartment. Being greeted by his very happy girlfriend wrapping her arms around him. “Hi, handsome.”

     “Hi princess,” Chan greeted as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pecked her lips. 

     “When’s the mask coming?” She asked, bouncing a little in her place as he slipped his shoes off and set his bag down

     “End of the week.”

     “And you’re off this weekend?” 

     Chan saw the little light in her eyes as he trapped her in his arms and walked her back to the couch, “Depends.”

     “Chris,” Y/n whined before he laid her on the couch and laid on top of her.

     The Aussie chuckled and leaned up to peck her lips. “How about you tell me how you imagine me fucking you in the mask would go and then I’ll decide if I go in and work this weekend.”

     Y/n smiled at the mischievous look in his eyes.

     Chan did go into the studio. Briefly mentioned to his girlfriend that Changbin and Han needed his help for a track. Promising to be back as soon as he could. Y/n pouted as he kissed her in the kitchen before he headed out the door. She knew damn well he’d be getting home late, knowing how those three always getting sidetracked when they were working together.

     But it couldn’t be helped. She went on about her day, checking in on her boyfriend every so often and reminding him— and the other two— to eat at meal times. Y/n did some chores she had to do around the house and ran a couple of errands she had to do. Getting home before it got dark. Making dinner and an extra plate for Chan for whenever he came home. 

     Y/n wound up in bed not long after, the TV in their bedroom playing as she waited for him to come home and cuddle. Y/n checked her phone. No messages about coming home yet. Probably deep in his work, normal. 

     11:48 pm

     He’d worked late but not this late. She sat up in bed and unlocked her phone. Opening up their messages and texting him. 

Y/n: Coming Home soon? 🥺 Channie💕: sorry Princess. This track is a lot more work than we thought. We’re trying to fix a few things. I’ll let you know when I leave. You don't have to wait for me, baby. Get some sleep. I’ll be there when you wake up 💕 Y/n: Mmmm want to fall asleep in your arms though

     Y/n sighed as she looked up from her phone and caught a glance in their free-standing mirror. She smiled and got out of bed. Tossing off her sleep shorts and underwear before sitting in front of the mirror in one of his zip-up hoodies. Unzipping it almost all the way down, just covering her lower half  

Channie💕: I know Princess 😖 I’m sorry but you know I won't be able to sleep if we don't fix this Y/n: But I won't be able to sleep without you        [1 photo]       Please, baby 🥺 Channie💕: Princess                   My baby looks so good in just my sweater Y/n: think I’d look better under you, getting split open on your cock.  Channie💕: Yeah?                    Can you show Daddy that pretty pussy?

     Y/n smiled and leaned back, taking her legs out from under her, and planting her feet on the floor. She unzipped the sweater fully so her wet folds were in perfect view of the mirror and camera. The sweater fell off her shoulder as well, exposing one of her boobs as well. 

Y/n: [1 photo] Channie💕: Been touching yourself, Princess? Your soaked Y/n: No Daddy. Just thinking of you Channie💕: Maybe Daddy should come home and help you out then Y/n: Please🥺🥺 Channie💕: Give me an hour and I’ll be home princess😉 Y/n: Channnnniiiieee

     Y/n waited for a response but nothing. She sighed and locked her phone, finally looking up in their mirror just for her mouth to get covered by a black gloved hand, white scream mask behind her. Their purple LED lights reflected off the mask. 

     Y/n squirmed in his hold and closed her legs, trying to save some dignity as she grabbed the arm that was covering her mouth dropping her phone on the floor. The masked man behind her pulled her legs open, “Don't want to keep ‘em open? Didn't have a problem showing off earlier.” he chuckled, gloved hand slapping her clit a few times.

     Y/n tried arching away but he had a tight grip on her jaw. Making her look straight ahead in the mirror. Y/n closed her eyes as he massaged her clit, trying not to moan. 

     “Open your eyes,” the man growled and slapped the inside of her thigh.

     Y/n screamed into his hand and opened her eyes, tears pricking her lash line. “Good girl,” He cooed, covered fingers running between her wet folds. 

     Y/n clenched as his fingers teased her hole, hoping she could keep him out if she clenched hard enough. She heard him tsk before he pulled his hand away and stood up behind her, letting go of her jaw. She turned her body to crawl past him and escape but he was quick to grab the hair on top of her head and kept her in place. The white mask looked down at her as he pressed her mouth against his clothed crotch. Y/n grabbed the ripped fabric of his jeans as his hard cock was pressed against her mouth. 

     She could feel him smiling under the mask and use his free hand to unbutton his jeans. Pulling her away to unzip and pull his hard dick out. Y/n tried pulling away from him but he had a tight grip on her hair. “Open up.” He tapped the red leaky tip against them.

     Y/n pressed her lips in a tight line in protest  He yanked her head back, Y/n letting out a pained moan as her jaw fell open in the process. Giving him the perfect chance to shove himself down her throat. Y/n gagged as his tip quickly hit the back of her throat, the built-up tears falling down her cheeks. 

     “See? Not that hard, is it?” He chuckled behind his masks, hand keeping her pressed down on him

     Y/n hummed to disagree but that did get across. Rather, the man moaned as her throat vibrated against his tip. Pulling his hips back and thrusting back into her mouth. Y/n gripped the frayed fabric of his jeans as he held her still for him to use. A tight grip on her hair that wouldn't let her pull away. 

     Forcing her to look up at him as he used her mouth. His free hand reached behind him and pulled a phone out. Her eyes went wide as she tried to protest. Whines went unheard as he pointed the camera at her. Switching to moving her head up and down rather than thrusting into her mouth. 

     Y/n whined as she tried to push against him only for his whole shaft to be shoved down her throat. Watching his head tilt back before he pulled her off him. Y/n coughed as she caught her breath just for him to laugh at her. Pulling her back down and fucking her throat again. Y/n whined in protest which made him moan. 

     Pulling out of her as he felt himself starting to cum. Some of the semen caught in her mouth while the rest landed on her face. Y/n’s jaw hung open as she closed her eyes, waiting for him to finish

     “Good slut,” He said as he put the phone away and all but pushed her back onto the ground. Getting down on his knees between her legs. Y/n tried backing up but she should’ve known better now. 

     He grabbed her legs and turned her on her stomach. A harsh smack landed on her ass and made her jump before her lower half was lifted. 

     “Look at this pretty cunt,” he said behind her. Y/n felt him spread her folds then two fingers pushing into her. “All nice and warm.”

     Y/n whined and covered her mouth with her boyfriend's sweater sleeves as he quickly pushed his fingers in and out of her. Whining into the cloth as more tears rolled down her face. Thumb moving to rub her clit. Trying her best to ignore his fingers spreading her out. Walls clenched around them as he worked her clit. Gloved fingers curled into her walls as she felt him lean over her back. 

     Grabbing her hands away from her mouth and pinning them in front of her on the floor. “Don't need to hide how good it feels. Having someone fuck your tight cunt open.”

     “It doesn't,” Y/n whined

     “No? Maybe another finger will help.” 

     A third finger entered her before she could protest. A moan left her as her walls spread to accommodate the additional girth. Biting her bottom lip, resting her head against the bedroom floor. The knot in her stomach tightened the more the little bud between her legs was stimulated. Small broken pleas went unheard as they were said into the floor. 

     Her walls clenched around his fingers more and more. Her hips bucked as she was getting closer. Trying not to let the pleasure take over and beg to cum. Not wanting to give that satisfaction. He got it anyway as she let out a loud moan into the carpet and came around his fingers.

     “Feel better now?” He chuckled as his fingers left her. Y/n felt his hand leave her wrist and she daringly looked up a her mirror while she was barely coming out of her high. She saw him up higher on his knees and spreading her cheeks. Feeling his tip sink into her had her trying to get away again, begging him not to. 

     “Take it out, please! I don’t—“

     “Who said you could make orders?” he barked and yanked her head up. Cock sank into her in one thrust. 

     “Cock sleeves don’t talk,” He growled as he watched her jaw fall open. Walls made way for his thick length. 

     “‘M not—“

     Y/n cried as another slap landed on her ass. Effectively cutting her off. 

     “Don’t act all innocent. You were whoring yourself out earlier. All wet and desperate for a dick inside you.”

    The masked man pushed her back on the floor and held her down. Hand on the back of her throat as he started pistoning himself in and out of her. 

     Y/n caught a glimpse of him leaning over her as he pounded into her. Whining with each hit. Still, uselessly, trying to get away from his grip. Each time she attempted she was met with a hard spank that made her jump. 

     “Maybe we should send that little video out. Let your boyfriend know he’s dating a whore.” 

     “No!”

     “Then stop squirming.”

     Y/n whimpered as she lay on the ground, seeing a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye. Then he moved his hand from the back of her neck to the front and lifted her head. Making her look in the mirror again. 

     Warm tears ran down her cheeks as his thrusting grew more erratic. Phone camera pointed at the mirror, capturing every movement and reaction. 

     “Gonna fill this little cunt up,” He groaned behind her

     “Please, pull out!” Y/n cried 

     “Mhm? Want me to fill you up?” He questioned, not hearing the last part. 

     “No! Pull out please!” 

     He buried himself in her and filled her sensitive cunt up. Cries left her lips as he dropped her head back to the floor. Y/n looked at him through the mirror. Hips pressed against her ass as he emptied himself inside her. 

     He pulled out after he was for sure finished and spread her folds apart. The camera captured his cum dripping out of her before he flipped her over onto her back. Pulling her legs over his hips as she tried to cover herself. 

     “Haven’t learned yet, slut?” he asked, slapping her thigh and tearing her hand away from her cunt, and running his thumb over her clit. 

     “No more!” Y/n whined, grabbing his wrist 

     “You can handle it,” He answered as he dropped the phone and slid back into her. 

     Y/n moaned as he filled her up again. The masked man chuckled as he rubbed her clit again, feeling her clench around him from the stimulation. Y/n could feel him getting harder inside her while she tried to push him away. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them down against her chest. Adjusting himself to thrust into her again. Her whines turned into moans as she tried to pull her hands away.

     The man hummed as he pressed harder on her clit. Watching her body jerk through the eyes of the mask. No longer trying to squirm away or protest. “There we go,” he chuckled, “Poor slut just needed her clit touched again.”

     “Not… a slut,” Y/n said through her tears. 

     “Sure feels like you are.”

     His speed picked up again, leaning over her body. More moans fell out of her mouth as he rubbed the little bud faster. Feeling her walls contract around his length again, her body jolting ever so slightly. Soon enough she was covering him in her orgasm, arching off the ground and crashing back down. The masked man let go of her wrists but kept his thumb on her clit. Working himself inside of her to another orgasm. Dick twitched inside her as all her words died in her throat from the overstimulation.

     A groan left his throat as he came inside her again. Pushing a second load deep inside her. Stopping his movement on her clit and laying both his hands next to her head, leaning over her body. 

     After a moment, Chan took off the movie mask and set it to the side. Tossing the gloves off next before running a hand through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. 

     “You okay baby girl?” He asked 

     “Mhmm,” Y/n nodded, a smile on her face.

     “Sleepy now?” Chan asked as he pressed a kiss to her neck

     “Yeah,” Y/n answered

     “Stay awake for me long enough to get you cleaned up? Then we can go to sleep, have a lazy day tomorrow?” Chan suggested 

     “Sounds nice,” Y/n said

     “Okay, princess. I’m gonna pull out then we're gonna take a bath.”

     Y/n nodded as Chan gently pulled out of her. Y/n made a small whine before he sat her up and pulled his jacket off her. Helping her into their bathroom and setting her on the toilet while he started the bath. 

     Leaving momentarily to grab her clothes and coming back. Filling up the tub before gently placing her in the warm water and getting behind her. Washing her body and leaving little kisses and praise in her skin. 

     “Feel okay princess?”

     “Just tired,” She grumbled

     “Hmm. Can you turn around so I can wash your face?”

     Y/n slowly turned around to face him as Chan cleaned her skin and rinsed it off before letting her fall against his chest.

♱ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

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© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[thewalrusespublicist]

Hello! Love your blog and your takes, objective and sane and well researched chefs kiss! I had a blast scrolling through it like it was my feed yesterday lol can you elaborate on klaus and Paul if possible? People mostly talk about them like it’s already understood but I don’t understand 😭 I’m kinda lost on their (all of them, including stu) dynamic during the hamburg years specifically when it comes to Paul

Aww thank you anon! Tbh I was starting to feel a bit down about my blog and what I was putting out ( the eternal crisis on how to give full answers and opinions without being stupid, boring and annoying lol). So I really, really needed this. :)

Oh Paul vs/and the Exsis, it's quite a long one so buckle up.

Disclaimer: all of the people involved are essentially art kids/young adults who are famously the most exhausting people on the planet. Do not blame them for being dramatic, it's their natural state of being.

If we want to go into Paul and Klaus, we have to kind of start with the John, Paul and Stu. Now these three are a mess that's too big to go into here (though I have THOUGHTS about how Stu is utilised in the Beatles narrative that I'm more than happy to share if asked lmaooo). But in short(ish):

John and Paul had had an intense year and a bit of closeness. Then John meets Stu at art college.

John and Stu become c l o s e for many reasons (being peers, living together, similar artistic leanings + ego, Stu being a gentle guide to John, sharing art projects/poetry/long letters and feelings etc.) They became 'closer than two men' a friend had seen (remind us of anyone gang?). Most importantly, John could be open about his feelings with Stu in letters. If John had BPD which I subscribe too, I think Stu was his 'favourite person' and as Aunt Mimi said his 'special' and 'closest friend' from this period up until his death (though imho the transference back to Paul was starting prior to his death).

It's not clear what exactly happens as there's differing accounts but Stu uses his money to buy a new bass as John wants him to come to Scotland then Hamburg and play bass as he will 'look good'.

Paul doesen't like being relegated to the seat behind John and Stu when he used to sit next to John. He also isn't thrilled when he gets to Hamburg and not only does he get to sleep in the other room with just Pete but Stu cannot be arsed to play because he's hanging out with his hot new girlfriend Astrid (more on her in a sec). Our boy has spent a lot of money he doesen't have and given up on further education to be here and is jealous and annoyed.

Paul and Stu probably were friends and I think their mutual antipathy is overegged. HOWEVER, can't be denied that Paul is jealous of Stu and Stu is jealous of Paul (and getting flare-ups from increasing brain damage). John and Stu tease Paul and steal his money, Paul is mean to Stu (as are the others encouraged by John). Do I think John was playing games with both of them? Yup. They end up scuffling onstage because Paul said something about Astrid (not clear what, one account is that Paul said that Stu could borrow money off Astrid if he needed it which isn't really that bad a dig but who knows Yoko??).

Why is this dynamic important? Because it directly impacts the 'Exsis' (Klaus, Jurgen and Astrid's) group's relationship with Paul:

The Exsis were young artists living in Hamburg. They were artistic, cool, interesting and edgy. They were paramount in introducing the Beatles to cool new concepts, aesthetics and ideas. They also took themselves VERY seriously ie pretentious as all hell.

Astrid met Stu at Kaiserkeller and hit it off. They embarked on an all-consuming romance.

Letter from Stu to Astrid, c.1961

I've seen people say they were the proto-John and Yoko in terms of making their romance the whole world and influencing John years down the line and I can see that. With Astrid and Stu it's far more endearing though because they ARE young and the right age to have a relationship like that. Stu is popular with the Exsis in general and brings them into the Beatles group.

The Exsis didn't like or trust Paul. Astrid said later it was because Paul was 'too nice' which she herself admits is a ridiculous reason. The others also thought he was a bit of a show-off. It makes sense though if you're cool and edgy and want to stick it to the world to be sus about a guy being friendly show-off with seemingly no inner world. The other problem was a perfectly reasonable one imo, you're not going to like your friends frenemy who you don't connect with. Compound that with Paul not taking drugs as much as George or John and being in the other room and you begin to have a division.

Paul had been popular his whole life, like from what we know since-primary-school-popular. He had never been in this position before, let alone in a foreign country. I believe it became a bit of a brutal feedback loop. Paul's response to this type of behaviour consistently it to go more surface level, snide and passive aggressive. The natural response of any group with a designated 'ugh' person is to become more shady and exclusionary. The cycle continues and gets worse. Stu letters back home at this time says that in a shocking turn of events Paul is hated by everyone but Stu 'just feels sorry for him' (lmao OF COURSE you do Stu, its giving 'loathing' from Wicked lol). Klaus drew a lot of artwork of the early Hamburg Beatles that includes this highly unpleasant picture of Paul in 1961 which I think says a lot:

Klaus is also a musician and fancies himself a place on bass. When Stu leaves to pursue art, Klaus asks John if he could take over but John says that he thinks Paul is going to do it.

Klaus has later gone on to say that he thinks he was a better bass player for the Beatles' sound at the start and then Paul developed into being better for the group. It's one of those I cannot believe those words actually left your mouth and you are not deeply embarrased moments. But it's important to keep this desire and viewpoint in mind.

Klaus stays in touch with all of them and close to John and George, George especially. They visit Klaus on holiday in tenerife in early 60s and Klaus later draws the Revolver artwork.

This whole context of how they met and Hamburg is crucial and has to be taken into account when hearing Klaus' statements. Klaus and Paul started off with a lack of connection and with Paul on the outs, the Exsis got an incomplete view of Paul and an inaccurate snapshot of the Beatles dynamic overall. This is why when Klaus says 'Paul was always slightly apart from the others' and that 'divorce was inevitable' from early 60s we should remember that that is what Klaus is expecting to see as that's what he saw in Hamburg.

Klaus wanted to be the bass player (and was holding out hope to join a band with George and John in the 70s), was really close with George and suffers as many did with 'John Lennon aspiring boy bestie syndrome' (JABBS). Paul had what Klaus wanted and from the Hamburg experience, you could see why Klaus thought he might have an in and may have been jealous of this 'shallow' Paul of all people having the connection that he felt he should/could have with John and George. As with most sufferers of JABBS, he took John's side with everything, always refused to say any regrets about his involvement in How do you Sleep and thought Paul was fine with the song because 'he was even closer to John than [he] was. (Again Klaus to put yourself in that level of closeness with John that it's comparable to Paul is ???.) JABBS and its secondary condition PMIETGSH (Paul McCartney isn't even that good shut up) are virulent diseases that incapacitate sufferers objectivity and judgement, so it's fair to say that Klaus is a source you have to take with a pinch of salt on the early 70s period.

It seems that Klaus and Paul did get on a lot better the older they got (probably without the jealousy complication of George and John) and developed a sweet friendship. Here is Klaus' tribute to Paul for his 80th:

Here is the jam session he's talking about:

He now wants Paul to live in his house lmao so things have gotten warmer. But Klaus and Paul's dynamic is a great example of how and why natural bias, little jealousies and spats can consciously or subconsciously influence our internal narrative and why we need to be so careful about not taking one perspective as gospel.

[onestepbackwards]

Love That Bites Pt. 15

It's here!!! Finally, I am able to finish it! This chapter is a lil messy, I'll admit, and ended up twice as long as intended, but I'm hoping it'll be a good set up for the next chapter, which will feature a lot more Dracula :3 I am posting this a bit sleep deprived, so I apologize if it has several mistakes ;w;

Thank you for waiting, and I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Turns out going home had consequences worse than you had anticipated. With time ticking by, and tensions beginning to boil with your step family, you decide to make several impulsive decisions in hopes of working on your deal with Dracula, or at least having something to show for it. Of course, nothing can go right, especially with Death tailing you, now can it?

CW: Physical and verbal abuse mentioned (You are mostly fine, no worries), extreme anxiety and second thoughts, slight face injury (just a bruise), impulsive shopping, mental rambling and overthinking, Death makes an appearance

Word Count: 6575 words!

Tag List: @just-some-water-lillies @blackmeetsworld @khaleesihavilliard @sisterofsin29 @str4wban3l @nikkilovemark @ms-bakugo-blog @kittenlover614 @simpytheshrimpy69 @midgetdemon17 @just-nother-dreamer @adrakeshoard @tilldeathripsusapart @thedeadlynights @pumpkinvampie @bethleeham @mshope16 @sixsixtwenty @haleypearce @rvautomatic @tinystarfishgalaxy @marshmelloe @maorizon @ursamajor17 @sapphicsfordracula @dame-sunflowers @sleepyendymion @starrlo0ver @onewiththebeanbag

If you want to be added, or if I missed someone, please let me know! Likes, reblogs, tags and comments are appreciate 💕

First: Here

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Looking in the mirror shouldn’t have been as harrowing as it felt at the moment.

If you were being honest with yourself, you could care less about appearances. You liked looking nice and all, but you didn’t always have the luxury of looking nice on a hunt when it involved… monster remains ending up splattered all over you.

That… and as you were growing older, you looked a lot more like your mother.

Not just in looks, but…

You hated how your eyes looked so sunken in. How there was an unnatural paleness to you. Like you were ill.

It certainly made you feel sick. You hated being reminded how your mother looked that last year before she passed.

Of course, it didn’t help that you had a massive bruise on your left cheek. Or how you haven’t had a good night’s sleep in… what, weeks? More so than normal anyway.

That, and you genuinely haven’t felt well since you came back home around 3 weeks ago.

“Ugh….” You groaned out, leaning closer to the mirror as your head throbbed.

At least you weren’t beaten bloody and bruised like you had been before… everything.

It had nearly been a month since you returned. As much as you would have liked to believe things would have gotten better after coming back home, that was nothing more than a pipe dream.

“Just who do you think you are, huh? Who the hell lets you stay here? Do you think it’s funny to pull that kinda shit? Huh?”

Jason hadn’t been happy at your return. Though you had a feeling he was more mad about you staying away and still being alive.

“Fucking look at me when I’m talking to you, you dense fuck. I let you stay here out of the goodness of my heart, and you not only attack us, but pull a disappearing act?”

Eyes narrowing at yourself in the mirror, your reflection scowled with you as you remembered parts of Jason’s explosive reaction to you coming home that day.

Your step brothers and step father had been doing something involving recon for a mission of some sort. So they said, anyway. Not that they gave you much of an explanation anytime they left anywhere, unless it was somewhere fun.

Then they were more than happy to brag about going somewhere, and you weren’t invited.

Regardless, you didn’t hear much about where they were, but you got to hear all about how bad of a person you were for leaving like that. For having the gall to defend yourself.

The reflection of you in the mirror scowled even further, before wincing when you felt a twinge of pain from the bruise on your face.

Annoyance flickered on your features.

After you came home and were discovered by your family, the ‘scolding’ had certainly been one of the worst, but you would argue that wasn’t the worst part of coming back.

”I’ll have you know I could kick you out at any time. You are nothing but a freak. A parasite. At least your mother was worth something compared to you. All you do is sit around and do nothing, wasting our time and resources!”

Jason and your brothers had never been physically violent before. At least, not outside ‘training’, anyway.

Sure, there was the occasional shove, and a shoulder check here and there. Maybe a loose foot finding its way in front of your own…

Jason was practically in your face as he yelled, your back pressed against the wall as he practically cornered you.

“All you do is sit on your ass and run off to god knows where after throwing a fit. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t toss your shit into the streets right now!?”

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, he interrupted you.

“Shut up!”

Your eyes widened as a fist came at you-

…Only for your body to tense with one of your hands in front of your face as his fist landed a few inches from your head, now in a huge hole in the wall next to where you stood. No doubt you would be fixing that later.

Jason’s face was right next to yours, his eyes dark with a hatred that had your body tense, and your hair stand on end.

“Get out of my sight.”

Ever since that first night back, Jason had gotten scarily close to genuinely hurting you. He, and his oldest son, Mark, had grown increasingly aggressive.

It frightened you. Never had they seemed so irritated.

That was saying a lot, if you were being honest with yourself.

Sure, you feared what they could do to you, to your home. It was a small fear, one you kept a tight lock on. You hadn’t really felt scared of them. Not before they tried to lethally injure you.

Now you felt like a cornered animal half the time, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. It felt like it was only a matter of time before things escalated. If something happened to you… You didn’t like to think what would happen afterwards.

The look in their eyes… You couldn’t help but compare it to a monster who was out for blood. A pure hate that made you feel ill just looking at them.

And with their aggression growing… it was looking more and more likely you faced something terrible happening with each passing day.

Not even a week had passed after Jason’s episode before you were shoved down the stairs. You thankfully had caught yourself, but instead of an empty hall at the top of the stairs like you expected, Mark stood watching.

His eyes were just as cold as his father’s. That same, piercing hate deep in his eyes.

“No one wants you here.” Was all he said, before he turned around and left, leaving you awkwardly hanging onto one of the rails.

Since then, Jason and Mark had made a point to let their displeasure known. You were either tossed around, or forced to do extra dirty work around the house. Jason made a point to tell you that he expected ‘more’ from you from now on.

Ignoring the fact you already did most of the house work anyway. Fucker.

Now they both made messes on purpose. Well, more ‘on purpose’ than before.

Kitchen? A wreck almost every night.

Living room? You were now picking up their disgusting clothes and messes.

Entry way? You were cleaning mud that was tracked in every other day. It wasn’t even muddy out front, so you knew they were doing this on purpose elsewhere to piss you off.

At least Seth kept his distance. He wasn’t pleasant, but he at least seemed to dislike outright trying to hurt you more than a shoulder check. If anything, he just told you to clean something or go shopping at inconvenient times.

Maybe toss something on the floor for you to clean up, but even he seemed to find that more bothersome than it was worth.

It still wasn’t great, but it only added to your ever growing stress.

“Things could be worse… I guess.” You mumbled, exhaustion clear on your features as your frown fell back to your neutral look.

You could have Dracula trying to kill you, along with everything else. No doubt that would have possibly either broke you, or had made everything worse. Your face scrunched up at the thought.

Though you winced once again, the bruise near your eye throbbing at the movement.

Jason and the others may not have outright been hitting you with their fists since you got back, but…

Letting out a gasp of surprise at the sudden sharp pain, you felt your body slam into the wall next to you as your body swung back in surprise.

“Oh sorry, did that hurt?” Mark mocked, throwing the bag he had ‘accidentally’ hit you with over his shoulder.

Motherfucker had waited around a corner just to swing a bag of junk at your head. You were lucky it didn’t directly hit your eyes, but…

You could feel your anger bubbling in your chest, and you sighed. At least you still had your sight, even if you worried the cheekbone had been damaged.

Whatever.

Turning the faucet on, you splashed some water on your face, waking you up a little bit as you trekked back to your room

Truth be told, it wasn’t just your step family causing you issues.

You had been spending what free time and energy you had on working on your deal with Dracula.

Something that still was weird to think about.

Entering your room and closing the door behind you with a soft ‘click’, you went over to your desk and sat down. Reaching down to the floor, you pulled out a specific notebook you had hidden under a bunch of random clothes and junk, and opened it.

Inside the notebook was what would be a bunch of gibberish, but was simply a cypher.

You didn’t dare write anything about Dracula somewhere where your step family could find it and read it. A phone was hackable, and just leaving a notebook around without precautions was begging for fate to mess with you and make things worse.

Flipping through the pages, you found your simple ‘To-Do List’.

It was messy, but when you came back home a near wreck, it was as good a place as any to start.

There were several different things written down, such as buying him a modern cell phone. Or building him a computer. Or even showing him some modern libraries.

You hoped he would at least be impressed by the internet, and the many archives it included. Though you were a bit nervous about the internet as well, not really wanting him to see how depraved humanity could be, where it was right out in the open.

Then again… the internet had a front row view on the good things humanity has done too. That, and it’s not like Dracula was unaware of how awful people could be, human or otherwise.

Perhaps you would only show him the internet archive or something. And how to pirate movies and books.

Movies and television were a whole different ball game as well on what to show him. You wondered if he’d like The Addams Family, or The Godfather. Or Psych, or Columbo or something.

Shaking your head, you wrote down a few suggestions to show him later. After you managed to figure out if you could even get internet working at his castle, of course.

You’d have to make a few calls to some people who knew how to keep their mouths shut, no doubt.

Even then, he may not even want it. That was something you had to consider.

“Though, perhaps…” you mumbled out loud as a thought entered your mind.

Perhaps you could just show him all that stuff at your cabin? Test the waters?

A part of you nearly snarled at the idea of anyone finding your humble sanctuary, let alone being allowed in it that wasn’t your late mother.

But you had way more at stake here. You had a deal to hold your end up on. Surely, your little abode was worth the entirety of humanity?

…You would consider it.

Then there was the fact you would probably have to get a phone or internet plan for Dracula.

Good god you had a lot on your plate.

That isn’t even mentioning the calls you had been attempting to make for blood banks for supernatural entities. With how busy they tended to be though, you ended up on hold nearly every attempt you made. No doubt you would have to send some emails and make an in person visit.

Great.

Staring at the list for another few moments, you sighed, putting the book down and putting your head in your hands.

“Fuck, how am I going to do this?”

The hope of the world was quite literally on your shoulders, all depending on your actions going forward. Yet, you had little to nothing to go forward with.

Not like you could just order a phone or computer parts. Even if it was illegal, your mail and packages ended up getting opened more often than not before you had a chance to even see them.

Jason would always smugly remark it was for ‘the family’s safety’, in case someone was trying to ‘get rid of the family.’

That was a load of shit, of course.

You knew it, Jason knew it, Mark and Seth knew it.

But there was nothing you could do. Even if you had a legal case of them fucking with your mail, if you made a fuss, you simply would get kicked out and lose your family home.

At least they stopped messing with your packages half of the time when you bought adult toys to embarrass them out of spite.

That was the first time they ever left you alone for a month. Definitely some of the most peaceful weeks of your life.

Anyway-

Rubbing your face, you gave your cheeks a small slap to wake yourself up, and sat back up in your chair.

Picking the book back up, you looked over it all once again, before adjusting some of your notes.

You would have to go buy a lot of this stuff in person yourself, and hide it in your car. Buying a new phone and computer parts would only make your step family incredibly suspicious.

Or annoying.

In fact, if you did manage to spin a perfect lie to get them off your back, you wouldn’t be surprised if your parts either went ‘missing’, or ended up ‘accidentally’ damaged.

Or someone in the family suspiciously gets a new PC while the parts you bought are missing.

Even though you had money in your own bank account, it wasn’t like you were rich. You had expected a lot of your family’s money to go to you before… well…

Not that it mattered.

You still had a means of making money from odd jobs and the hunts you were allowed to do before your step family called dibs, or when they didn’t want to do the icky jobs.

It just… wasn’t as much as you would like. But hey, you didn’t have the luxury of lamenting your expenses now. Lives were potentially at stake if you didn’t do this.

“So much for buying some new clothes… guess I’ll have to patch up some of my torn ones with some older clothe if I can…”

Oh well.

Another thing that was an issue was time.

You had more or less been on lockdown since coming back. Sure, you had a job or two for some minor stuff, but then you were stuck right back here.

With Jason and Mark, and Seth to a degree, being a lot more aggressive… You’ve hardly had a chance to even leave the house for something as small as grocery shopping without Jason getting on your ass about it.

He must have been serious when he got angry at you for disappearing. You still didn’t understand why, given how they talk about wanting you gone so much. Maybe they just hated the fact you would eventually come back.

Bah.

Scratching your head, you let out another sigh.

You were running out of time.

Dracula may have been patient so far, at least you hoped. However, that didn’t mean he would wait forever, especially when you mentioned a month as the time it may take to return.

Around a week remained, and the clock was ticking. Time was not on your side.

Neither was anything else, but if anything, you knew how to adapt under pressure.

“Okay… Everyone is out today. I can at least get a phone. Maybe even a few parts for a computer…”

There were a few places in town for parts. You had at least done research on places where you could buy these things earlier this month in a manic episode.

After that, you had to figure out a time to leave again for a few days. No doubt you’d get shit for it, but hey, at least you weren’t actively bleeding this time.

“I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.” You mumbled to yourself, running a hand over your eyes with a groan. Even if you felt like you were a bag full of anxiety, you could at least try to hype yourself up.

With a deep breath, you closed the journal, and hid it once more.

Steeling your resolve, you stood up and grabbed your car keys, before heading out your bedroom door.

Leaving your home wasn’t hard, but it still sent some anxiety spiking through your heart as you locked the door behind you. Nor was driving down to town any less harrowing.

However, driving up to the giant building of a tech store at least put you at ease. As much as you hated crowds, it was somewhat relieving here.

If you by some rare chance saw your family or someone you knew, you’d at least have a crowd. You were less likely to be treated poorly in front of people who your family tried so dearly to put a mask on for.

Of course, you still were on edge. It was hard not to be in general outside of your cabin or family home. Your whip felt heavy under your jacket as you parked and walked through the building, both a reassurance, and a weight that had your hands twitching.

Crowds may be good in some ways, but for monsters, both man and supernatural, it was an opportunity.

You just hope no one would seek such an opportunity today.

Pushing through the turbulent emotions stirring inside you, you quickly made your way to the center of the store.

It wasn’t hard to buy a phone, though you did have a few things to consider.

Size, model, and brand.

The decision wasn’t difficult in the long run, but the image of Dracula with glasses and a teeny phone in his massive hands made a smile form on your face.

With the new phone in a bag to take home for later, you continued shopping. At least getting a phone was the easy part. You could buy a temporary cheap plan and number for it in store at checkout.

Somehow Dracula’s castle had cell service, if you remembered correctly. If the phone plan didn’t work out, you could at least show him some things, right?

It was enough to tide you over until you could make some calls about giving Dracula of all people an actual decent phone plan without all the strings of an identity in modern society. That was something that actually wouldn’t be too difficult. You hoped.

Regardless, it was computer parts that had you dreading being here.

There were different parts and different brands to consider, and in the end, Dracula might not even care about it.

You at least hoped he would like the parts to look at if he was uninterested in having a computer. At the end of the day, you could just use your laptop to show him things if need be.

At the very least, you knew Dracula liked to make things, if your family’s old journals were anything to go by. You liked to think he’d like to tinker with the parts for his own gain.

“What a headache… Could be wasting time and money for nothing…”

Maybe you should only grab a few things? And then if he isn’t interested, you could just give the parts to him to study?

You shook your head to yourself as you entered an aisle with a few of the parts you needed behind a wall of glass, and eyed your options.

Perhaps you should start with a cpu? Or perhaps some memory? Or rather-

“You sure like to take your time, Belmont.”

In an instant, the temperature of the building dropped severely, and you felt your hair stand on end.

Faster than a human could blink, you had your whip in your hand, and faced your adversary-

Only to freeze when you saw Death hovering next to you, uncomfortably close.

You blinked, and hesitantly lowered your whip.

“Um… hi?”

The skeletal cloaked figure tilted its head, its boney fingers thrumming on the handle of its scythe. All the while, your head was swimming as you tried not to panic.

Dracula may have been your family’s primary enemy, but Death, the entity, was never far behind.

“Hmm… You are certainly different from most of your kin before you.”

You decided to take that as a compliment.

Forcing your anxiety back down your throat, you managed to speak once more.

“Um… No offense, but why are you here? Is everything alright?” You asked hesitantly, yet tried to remain polite. Hold back any fear and aggression. You could do this.

Death was severely hated in your family, if a few journals were anything to go by. It wouldn’t hurt to remain courteous. At least you hoped.

You no longer were in Dracula’s castle, after all. Who’s to say Death might try and find a loophole and kill you here outside your family home and his master’s abode? Be done with this stupid peace treaty of sorts you had convinced the Lord of Darkness to try out?

Even then, you imagine he could probably get away with it, being Dracula’s second in command. In Death’s eyes, in the end, would it really be so bad if the Belmont dies? Get you out of the way?

It was Death after all. Even if the entity was punished, what was Dracula gonna do? Kill him?

You tried not to let those thoughts fester as the cold, blue fires in Death’s eye sockets bore into you.

It took a lot not to shudder in fear.

Death though, seemed not to notice, or care if you felt intimidated or not.

“I am here to see if you intend to return to my master, or if you are simply hiding away like a dog with its tail between its legs.”

That last bit alone caused you to scowl, and you had to stomp down the irritation that threatened to bubble in your gut.

“First of all, rude. Second of all, yes, I do intend to return. That's why I am out today, actually.”

You gestured with a nod of your head to the locked display that was in front of you, and Death’s ghostly eyes followed.

“I figured as a gift of good will, I could get some modern stuff for him here. I know you probably have a distaste for humans, but I can promise you and Dracula himself that the technological advancements made by them in today’s modern age may come across as intriguing.”

Wincing a bit at how that sounded, you rubbed your neck and ignored the twinge of pain.

“Not to sound vain about it, of course. Humanity has really flourished the past century or so with all sorts of advancements. Not just technology. I figured your Master would be interested, at least in a few areas to see if humanity’s advancements have reached his own.”

Death let out what you assumed was a hum, and just as you were about to turn and ask what the deity thought, a voice nearly had you jumping out of your boots.

“Hi there, can I help you?”

Spinning around, you nearly relaxed when you saw it was someone who worked here, though you quickly stammered.

“O-Oh, I uh-”

You spun around, panic running through your veins. You did not need regular people freaking out over Death itself being in a tech store-

Only to find no one there. Death was gone.

The room seemed to warm up again, almost to the point it was uncomfortably hot. Had Death’s presence really sapped that much heat from you and everything around you?

Swallowing your nerves, you spun back around to speak to the person who asked if you needed help. It wasn’t hard to put a mask back in place on your face, though you swore your heart never stopped hammering in your chest as you pointed out a few items you were considering.

That, and you tried to ignore how the employee eyed you, almost concerned.

Right. Bruise on your face. Skittish reactions. Great.

At least they seemed happy to unlock the glass display for you, asking you something about if you were building a computer. You could only mumble a response with a shaky smile, throwing out some explanation or another.

In truth, you could barely think as they brought the few items you had pointed to towards a register. How could you act at ease, knowing Death could quite literally be around any corner, watching you?

Could you even go home? It’s not like it would be hard to find your place of residence in this day and age, but you wondered if Death knew how to do so by regular means.

Which made the idea of going home and being followed… nerve wracking.

Sure, your place was warded to hell and back with ancient spells and hunting artifacts so no evil could step foot on your property, but…

That didn’t mean you were safe the moment you took a step outside, and you didn’t exactly like the idea of being shot at by a gun or a bow or something while taking out the trash, thank you very much.

Even then… were you comfortable with Dracula even knowing your home address in general?

You were in a fog of your own thoughts as you paid for the equipment you bought, only briefly being brought out of it when you noticed the price after everything was scanned.

No doubt you’d be feeling the loss of money in your bank account later. Ouch.

Thankfully, it was also easy to get a quick plan for the phone you bought as well, along with a phone number. Nothing fancy or long lasting, of course. No need to if Dracula was uninterested, or if was genuinely interested to the point of needing a decent one.

As the nice employee set it up, a part of you hoped this would help you and Dracula have a means of communication.

After all, you doubted the post office would deliver a letter to a giant castle in the middle of fuck all nowhere.

When they handed you the phone and receipt, you gave the employee a tired smile, before gathering your things and walking out the door.

The whole way to your car, you were looking back behind you, still wary of being watched. You hated this.

It was one thing to be followed by some asshole or a monster with a bone to pick, but Death itself?

Hopefully you wouldn’t be laughed at if you puked from how nervous you were.

After setting your stuff in your car and climbing in behind the wheel, you sat there for a moment as your engine roared to life.

It seems despite your warning that you’d need a month, it seems at three weeks you didn’t have any time left to spare if Death was making in person inquiries.

Gripping the steering wheel, you glanced up at the rearview mirror, and your neck cracked from how fast you turned to look back at it after looking away.

In it was Death, floating ominously, near empty eye sockets looking at you from behind your vehicle.

You turned around quickly, and no one was there.

Eyes narrowing, you looked back, and nothing was in your back seat. Nothing behind your car. Nothing in the area besides you.

“Oh, very funny. Didn’t you ever learn not to scare a hunter? Especially one who can actually cause harm? Not everyone’s fight or flight is flight you know.” You snarked out under your breath.

A part of you wondered if Death found this hilarious or not, scaring you. Did the being not have a care about scaring someone who could actually kill them?

Then again… if you were ‘alive’ for thousands of years, you wondered if you too would stop giving a shit and started doing dumb stuff like that for fun.

That, or Death was purposely trying to push your buttons so he could have an excuse to tattle to Dracula you ‘attacked first’. You hoped that wasn’t the case.

Shaking your head, you looked around your car one last time, hoping you weren’t going crazy, before focusing on heading home.

You’d give Death some credit, at least.

Scaring you like that helped jump start something in your brain where you no longer felt frozen in place. Even if Death damn near gave you a heart attack in the process.

The drive home was uneventful, but you felt as if your heart rate never truly rested after your mini adventure out shopping.

How could it? How on earth do you handle such circumstances? It was like trying to swallow claws as your anxiety tried climbing its way up your throat.

“You know, I can’t help but feel my life would be a lot simpler if I was born in a different family…” you mumbled, face scrunching up.

Maybe you’d be bumbling around in college by now, meeting some guy or girl who caught your fancy. Worrying about exams and dates, not whether or not offending one man could kill you and the entirety of the human race.

Whatever. No point mourning something you never had, right?

Your thoughts were a messy buzz as you pulled up onto your property, though it probably could be seen as humorous how quickly those thoughts came to a stop.

Slumping into your seat, you felt a new kind of anxiety and irritation bubble up in your chest.

“Oh, you are fucking kidding me.” You groaned out, spotting familiar vehicles in the driveway up to your house.

Why were they back so soon? Why?

At this point, your luck was a sick joke, you think. That, or just your life in general.

It looked as if everyone was back home, earlier than they should be, you might add.

Internally, you debated your options.

One, you could go in and get yelled at for disappearing without ‘a good reason’, eventually having to give some excuse as to why you were gone.

Or two…

Your pulse picked up as you thought about it. You weren’t exactly planning on leaving for Dracula’s castle today… But…

Strumming your fingers against your steering wheel, you bit your lip as you weighed the pros and cons.

On one hand, going today might get Death off your back. Though you hoped that at least seeing you shopping might have helped.

On the other hand…

You’d have to meet Dracula again, for the first time after being so injured… And no doubt you’d later have to deal with Jason and the others getting pissed at you again.

Then again… that was just normal at this point, just extra aggression. Maybe you should get out for a bit?

After all… You hated to admit how you were growing concerned with how more… open they were getting with their ‘grievances’. How long would it be before you were one wrong fall down the stairs, or turning a corner too quick?

Your face throbbed at the memory. The bruise on your face was just from a bag of junk. How long until it was a convenient bag of bricks being tossed instead?

Plus… You needed a break, you just worried about the repercussions. But…

You were tired. So so so tired.

There was an exhaustion that was deep in your bones.

Your head constantly ached, even more so after the bruise. You were always exhausted like you were on hunts often, no doubt from your lack of sleep.

And you constantly felt off while here, which you chalked up to always being on edge.

No doubt having to watch your back like prey in your own home for weeks on end was taking its toll with how you were constantly bouncing between feeling exhaustion and feeling sick.

You may be a Belmont, but the human body could only take so much stress before it began shutting down. Even you had your limits.

“Am I actually considering this…?” you mumbled, your brain in a fog as you tried to come to a decision.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have anything at the cabin, either… You had a few clothes there, and some non-perishable food….

With a groan, you put your head in your hands, and ran them down your face. You winced as your face ached at the action.

It was then like a switch was flipped, feeling the bruise again. You didn’t feel like dealing with this shit, and possibly having another incident while already injured.

At least… Dracula wouldn’t attack you. Hopefully. You could heal. Maybe.

Not that you expected him to take care of you while you were there. You could do that yourself.

…It just would be nice to be in a place where you could.

Hah… How many times was it going to be a shock for you each time Dracula, your family’s enemy, was the safer option?

With a sigh, you cracked your neck, and steeled yourself.

Looks like it was time to pay Dracula another visit.

—

The drive wasn’t as long as you expected.

Perhaps it was the good music that happened to be playing, or maybe it was your nerves. Who’s to say.

Pulling into the small dirt road leading up to your small cabin though had you rightfully nervous.

Was it safe? Did any monsters wander from Dracula’s castle and ransack your home?

Eyes naturally narrowing in suspicion as your vehicle came to a stop, you couldn’t help but start to think about it.

Technically speaking… You never said Dracula or his minions couldn’t destroy shit. Just to leave humans alone, for the most part. At least, what your working ‘treaty’ was. Perhaps you should discuss and iron out the details while you were here…

Should you have made a contract? Did supernatural beings such as Dracula even have to honor those?

Not like you could hire a lawyer to draft a contract for Dracula anyways… Not enough ones in the supernatural communities, let alone one that would involve themselves with Dracula without fearing for their lives.

No doubt there would be a few conflicts of interest, and you couldn’t just hire a human one anyway…

Blinking, you shook your head, before doing a quick glance over your property.

“C’mon… Don’t get distracted now.” You mumbled, climbing out of your car.

You did a quick look over the immediate property around the cabin, checking to see if anything had changed.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Even the inside of your small sanctuary had remained seemingly untouched.

Was it a miracle, or had Dracula purposely mentioned not to have this place harmed?

Or maybe he didn’t say anything at all? Did he even know this place existed, besides what you had mentioned? Did he keep his mouth shut to avoid anyone going looking to begin with?

After all, you had mentioned having property nearby, right? You couldn’t exactly remember…

Question after question filtered through your mind, and you groaned. You’d get nowhere if you just sat here and made guesses.

The only way to get answers and move forward, would be to actually visit the vampire.

So why did you want to put it off now?

Your nerves were like electricity in your gut, and you could only wring your hands together as you stood stuck in the small living room. It was almost like you were paralyzed, unable to do anything besides take a few steps here or there while your brain went haywire.

It wasn’t like you could go back. Jason would give you too much shit for it, and Mark and Seth would follow his lead.

Jason was a ticking time bomb at this point, you feared. You could defend yourself and all, but at what point was it too much?

With a groan, you ran a hand through your hair.

“God… I feel like a deer in headlights…”

Taking a breath, you tried to calm yourself down. Why was this so hard? Just go to the castle, and talk with him, and offer some of the stuff you had. At least you could offer the phone and bring the computer stuff later…

After a few more moments of heavy debate inside your mind, you came to a decision, before swiftly turning around and heading to the bedroom.

You’d… visit Dracula tomorrow.

Was it an excuse to wait? Yes.

However, you figured you’d be in a much better mindset after getting some rest after being away from your family home. You just hoped Dracula wouldn’t mind waiting one more day, even if you technically hadn’t even hit the deadline you set yet…

You could rest, eat, shower, and mentally prepare yourself the next day. Maybe you would look less pathetic for Dracula at least, compared to last time, and how you currently felt.

Although, you’d admit, you were a bit uneasy sleeping so close to the castle.

It was silly, really. You literally had slept inside said castle. By all means, you were in the snake pit while critically injured. Yet…

You felt safer there than here. Something you never thought you would ever think about your little sanctuary.

Here, you didn’t have Dracula’s direct protection.

Just how easy would it be for something to attack you if a monster sensed you? All it took was one disgruntled monster to figure out you were here…

By all means, it could even be spun that it wasn’t even one of Dracula’s minions, since it would be outside his castle. It was a grey area if the monsters outside the castle walls were under his direct control, you felt.

It wasn’t even your own safety you were mostly worried about.

Was it selfish or odd to be more worried about the cabin and the land? It was one of the last things you had of your mom untainted…

Well, if anything else, you’d destroy anything that tried to destroy this place.

That was your thought as you climbed in bed that night, trying to ease your nerves for tomorrow.

…Which is why when several flashes of lightning and thunder happened one right after the other, you nearly fell out of your bed.

Rain began to pelt your window hard, and the wind picked up a bit. You could even hear the trees shake outside from the weather as some branches brushed against your cabin’s roof.

“Was that from…?”

Dracula’s castle wasn’t far, not at all. A small walk away around a lake. It sounded as if everything was coming from the direction of his castle.

After a moment of listening to some more rolling thunder, you decided to close your curtains, and try to relax to the sound of the storm. If what you suspected was true, and Dracula was annoyed or upset… you didn’t exactly want to intrude and possibly worsen his mood.

As you warily drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but wonder just what had made Dracula so upset.

[hailthedoll]

Hiiii i love your blogs i’ve been following gaga for AT LEAST a year now and i’m so happy your back! Could you write a NSFW Euronymous hc? Anything NSFW please i'm needy.

✭ euronymous nsfw headcannon ✭

i love you so much for one requesting and two following my page for that long. thanks bitch<3 PSA, if you do not support or agree with my post or feel the need to leave a hateful/judgemental comment kindly fuck off and move on. with much love-knotty<<<333

LISTEN

im gonna say this flat out, i feel like he lowkey is childish with stuff like this

like giggly

a friendly reminder euronymous and øystein are the same person with different personalities

so øystein

this man was BLUSHING the first couple times he saw you naked

then that turned into just staring at you in awe and he hasn't really stopped doing that since

hes gentle

hes more of a giver than a receiver imo

its easier for him to finish than it is for you and he knows this

so making you more so of a priority in his mind is the obvious choice

he wants to make sure you're okay and it feels good for you before he worries about himself

but when he does worry about himself this man is vocal

not necessarily dirty talk

more so like quiet moans, whispers, small grunts and sighs

he loves head tho

when he gets head those are the moments where he can be GREEDY

he pushes your head down, you choke

"shit sorry"

and then the motherfucker will do it again

i see him being very much into missionary

he wants to see you

how you react to things

how you're feeling

the look on your face tells him what he needs to be doing

he will go down whenever

for however long

if it takes all day he's got time

he enjoys it

is it the taste? is it your body twitching under him? is it your moans?

he doesnt know, but its addicting

and he's got that "nobody else makes you feel this way" or "nobody else can make you sound like this" attitude

that really gets him feeling some sort of way

he will practically beg for you to sit on his face

a million pleases until you say yes

and its like he's more excited for it than you are

him praising you

AGAIN not in a dirty talk way but more like

"you look so beautiful" while you are FOLDED

definitely would keep a polaroid of you(iykwim) in his wallet, hidden behind some cash or maybe behind a more appropriate picture of you

possessive in a doesn't want a threesome way

like doesn't want anybody touching you or seeing you the way he does

he absolutely loves to show you off and brag about you to everyone and hear people compliment you but he would never let it go past that

pre show sex

it may take some convincing or teasing him to get him to actually do it in public but after the first time he is all for it everytime

after show sex

if this man is wanting to fuck you after a show, he is still in this mindset where he isnt øystein, hes euronymous

and if that's case you're getting a cocky motherfucker

hes high on adrenaline

he just spent a solid what hour? two hours? listening to people cheer for him

like yeah this mans ego is FED

this is the time he'd be more aggressive

more vocal

yes ACTUALLY dirty talk

PRAISING

he is still more focused on you than himself but its closer to 50/50 than what it normally is

i think his actions are based on your likes

if you like your hair being pulled itll more likely happen when he's in this mindset where isn't himself and he's this persona

because øystein is worried about hurting you

not saying he wouldnt

im just saying its more likely when you get him out of the mindset of you being like this person he wants to love and protect

lets face it, he is a small man

he is not tall and he is not big nor buff

in his eyes hes like your protector

hes the man in the relationship

or the masculine(?) one

and that's just nature for him

so hurting you?

is the LAST thing he wants to do to you

ok aftercareeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

at home he's gonna cling to you

hug you, hold you, kiss you

you ever seen that picture where he was staring at the bird

did you see the way that man was staring at that bird?

you're the bird.

thats how that man stares at you

softly smiling, his eyes full of love

would probs just have you fall asleep in his arms

if you are not home

sly looks

smirks and grins coming your way

little whispers commenting about what y'all just did

and how nobody knows what just happened

like a proud moment

like yeah we did that

he'd kiss you a couple times

hold your hand

or just stare at you and smile

no matter who he is in that moment that man is GEEKING

HE just did the deed with YOU

how did he get so lucky

[peachsayshi]

by your side. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ gojo x female reader ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ 

summary: gojo returns home after an exhausting two month trip away from you. 

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

notes: I’m so h*rny for this man & that tight black tee of his this is my contribution to celebrate satoru gojo and satoru gojo only <3  you can find my other yan gojo posts: here & here. 

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: yandere; lovesick/obsessed/needy gojo; sleepy satoru; oral (f receiving); edging; dub con (ish?); pussy drunk satoru 👀; size kink; dacryphilia 

“Missed you,” Satoru exhales with a strained voice, his long fingers unfastening the knot around your waist, similarly to how you removed the white ribbon of the present he gifted you earlier this evening. 

The elder jujutsu sorcerers frustrated him with too many problems during his isolation period away from you, binding him with the shackles of responsibilities that he never asked for.

Exchanging phone calls, text messages and videos with you wasn’t enough enough to fill the empty void in his heart. Only now, as he smooths down the silk fabric of your robe, does Satoru understand how terribly deprived he’s been. 

How did he survive these last two months without you?

“I missed you so much, my sweet girl”

His words are laced with anguish and his pupils dilate at your soft skin peeking out from under your attire. He pulls the material away from you, watching carefully as it ripples off your body like water. 

Around your neck is the present that he bought for you; a string of white gold links draping down your clavicle with a heart shaped pendant resting just above your chest. He nips at his bottom lip, considering the idea of adorning you in even more jewelry. 

Two sparkling studs for your ears, maybe...a charm bracelet to compliment a pretty anklet... a band that would look complete around your ring finger...

The image makes his dick twitch.

You’re looking up at him from underneath your lashes, shying away from his intense gaze and drifting down to his muscular torso looking snug in his black fitted tee. All of a sudden your bed feels much smaller with him there, and a tingle ascends up your spine when he curves his strong arm behind your waist. The force of his weight pushes you down onto the soft pillows behind you. His limbs taking up most of the mattress, leaving you pinned underneath the expanse of his chest. 

You’ve forgotten how quickly he makes your heart race.  You’re still adjusting to this - getting used to the status of being his girl.

He tenderly touches his forehead to yours, a reminder of why the claim shouldn’t make you feel like a frightened kitten trapped in a wolf’s den.

Those words are pure devotion now, an affirmation of his love towards you. There are many who dream about basking in its abundance, and here you are greedily indulging for free.

Being loved by him is an honor that you have been pleasantly awarded.

You tilt your chin up to brush your mouth over his, initiating the first kiss with a chaste peck against his pink lips before leaning back to look into the depths of his blue eyes. 

He’s exhausted, you can tell, the bright color of his irises are muted and his mouth is twisting downward in a subtle frown. You know for a fact that he carries many burdens as the head of his clan and the strongest sorcerer, but what’s unsettling you is the sullen expression overwhelming his handsome face since his arrival. 

“I thought you would be happy to see me,” you state quite matter of factly, swiping your thumb over the blush blooming underneath his pale skin. 

Satoru leans into your touch, resting his cheek comfortably in the palm of your hand, and you can’t help but think how angelic he looks this way.

“I am, it’s just...I really, really hated being away from you,” he confesses through gritted teeth. 

You brush off the spark of nerves reacting to the visible sickness on his face, and trail your index finger down the bridge of his nose. “You’re home now,” you coo as you circle your arms around his neck, “I’m happy that you’re back.” 

His shoulders relax almost immediately, and he buries his relieved smile in the crook of your neck.  “Yeah?” he mumbles into your skin. “That’s nice to hear.” 

The sensation feels ticklish, but your giggle is quickly replaced by quiet pants as Satoru leaves a trail of kisses down your torso. His large palms find the back of your knees, and he lowers himself while spreading you apart so he can comfortably rest between your legs. The hand on your left leg curls around your ankle and he adjusts your position by bending your knee at a perfect angle. Meanwhile, his other hand lifts up your right leg, exposing the back of your thigh which he litters with tiny kisses and gentle nibbles.

“You don’t know...” he mumbles, “you don’t know how hard it is for me being away from you, it’s...” he interrupts once more, smooching your plush skin, “it’s unbearable...” 

His feathery admission gives you no comfort. Worry twists around your belly, caught between the grips of fright and excitement. A part of you refuses to believe that he is truly helpless without you around. However, it’s battling with your ego that’s showering with pride over the fact that this man would bend at your every will. 

Satoru presses his nose up against your clothed cunt to inhale your scent. The tension on his face dissipates, but his grip around your ankle tightens as he kisses you over the white cotton fabric. 

“M’here, Toru...” you soothe, threading your fingers through the frosty strands framing his facing, and pushing back his hair. “Here just for you” 

He releases an exaggerated sigh, “I feel so much better when we are together...” he admits, pressing his index finger up against the outline of your slit and rubbing over the damp patch that he formed with his tongue, “...when we are close like this.” 

You don't believe he’s lying. As a matter of fact, Satoru is honest to a fault when expressing his feelings about you.

You think it’s detrimental for a person to be this dependent, but your mind always finds a reason to rationalize his perspective.

Maybe it’s because you love him…or maybe it’s because he’s successfully bulldozed his way into your life that he now occupies every territory, making it impossible for you to turn anywhere catching a glimpse of his shadow.

You swallow the lump in your throat.

You don’t want to dissect these unsettling ideas, afraid of what your mind would reveal to you in the process.

Instead, you allow yourself to relax as your lover pulls aside your underwear to expose your pussy. He lightly rubs his thumb over your ankle, keeping you in place for him before placing a sweet kiss on your clit. You slowly massage his scalp as a gesture of encouragement, and whimper quietly when he flicks the tip of his tongue along the nub. 

Your right leg lazily falls over his broad shoulder when he releases his hold, your eyelids growing heavy feeling the stroke of his velvety tongue drag down.

Satoru eats you out for his own pleasure, and the man is starved having not tasted you for months.

He keeps you in this position long enough for you to feel like the room is spinning. You’re lightheaded, delirious, with the way he softly and slowly devours your cunt and slurps your arousal. The sound of tender smacks and his deep humming moans echo around you, and your hips buck against his mouth from how sensual he sounds.  

The brewing heat numbs you from the top of the head down to the tips of your toes, it’s burning so low that you’re desperate to prod the embers just to stir the flame. You lick your lip feverishly, tasting the saltiness of sweat and jab your heel into his back, but the pressure feels like nothing to him. 

Satoru doesn’t waver or pick up the pace because he’s savoring you down to the very last drop, and he looks so content with your slick dribbling down his chin. He goes deeper, pushing his tongue further inside you as he compresses his nose into your clit. The added pressure makes you choke out a pathetic whine, provoking your exasperation and your thighs start to quiver uncontrollably. 

You’re relying on your movements, grinding your hips out of desperation in the hopes to finally snap the rubber band of your pleasure that’s being stretched to its limit. 

“mmph...t-toru?...” you mewl as tears prick your lovely eyes. “toru?” 

“Hmm?” a deep voice replies, and Satoru slowly wriggles his nose as he continues to lazily fuck you with his tongue. 

“Satoru, I-...ah!” you yelp, finally grabbing his attention as you roughly yank his hair. 

He groans with annoyance, but slows down his movements. To your dismay, he doesn’t completely pull away and instead returns back to your sensitive clit. He languidly rolls his tongue over it, licking and sucking the overstimulated bud that the tears start to fall. 

“I can’t take this...I can’t take this...”  you sniffle, easing your hold as you try to push his head away. “need to cum, wanna cum so bad...” 

Only then does he look up from the mess between your legs, strings of your slick catch onto his chin and you contemplate how unjust it is that he looks this beautiful, contemplate how unfair it is that you are meant to temper your sinful thoughts around a man who is Adonis incarnate. 

His hazy eyes blink away his dream like trance, and you can see his senses returning back to the present. He arches his brow with slight amusement at your flustered expression but maintains an innocent tone when he replying.

“I got a little carried away...” he states before placing an apologetic kiss on your lower tummy. “Not enough for you, huh?” 

You pout slightly and shake your head no, attempting to lift yourself up on your forearms despite your shoulders trembling from how frail your body feels tipping so close to the edge.

Satoru envelopes you in the protection of his embrace. He kisses you deeply, and you can taste yourself on his tongue and over his lips. He molds into your frame and your body lights up with sparks feeling how stiff  the length of his hard cock feels as he delicately ruts his hips over yours. 

You moan with every calculative thrust, spread your legs wide enough to feel his impressive bulge rub against you.

God, it makes you want to ride him senseless.

You’re yearning to have him inside you.

He pulls away from the sloppy, wet kiss then eases the grind of his hips as he pecks your cheek and jawline. He wriggles down, stopping to suckle on the tips of your pointed nipples and your heart stops when you realize that he still has no intention of making you cum yet.

“Toru, please...” you beg when he returns to his previous position, a gasp following your plea as he buries two fingers inside you. 

“I’m feeling much better, baby, I love you s’much...” he reassures, a wicked grin tickling the corners of his mouth as he steadily drags his digits back and forth, “I promise I’ll fill you right up…just need to make up for some lost time, kay?” 

The blood drains from your face, and you realize that you’re completely at his mercy.

“s’good to me, so perfect ‘n pretty...” he praises into your glistening cunt, but you’re too enraptured by the sensation of his tongue stroking your folds to notice the way his eyes darken as he looks at you.

If you did, then you would remember the danger of nuzzling up with a wolf whose bite would bleed you dry. 

[toomuchracket]

it's only been a year (birthday party matty x reader fluff)

surprise! happy 1st anniversary of the blog, and therefore to these fuckers. love you all. enjoy <3

matty’s so glad you're here.

not that he doesn't love his job, because he really, really does - and, to be honest, playing music for lovely people with his best friends has never felt like a proper shift to him - but the touring sparkle is starting to fade a bit now. it's been nonstop for almost two years, the end of this album cycle is in sight, and, as much as he hates to admit it, he's not as young as he once was. the tiredness catches up to him faster, because the adrenaline doesn't last as long, and all the dancing around is taking a bit more of a toll on his body than it used to (which reminds him: put the knee support on before travelling tomorrow). what used to be hours-long hedonistic afterparties have turned into staying backstage for a couple of drinks at most, before hurrying to the hotel for a hot shower to soothe the muscles in the voice and the rest of the body, and then getting as much sleep as possible. arguably, not particularly rock'n’roll, nor very exciting.

but you're here. at the shows, on the planes and trains and buses, and, currently, cueing up an episode of derry girls from the bed in matty's (well, both of your) hotel room. and because you are, the sparkle is still there, still glimmering away like glitter under strobe lights. he's not in the habit of quoting or relating to abba songs (although it's been happening more often recently, probably because of your love for mamma mia), but matty thinks they hit the nail on the head in super trouper - he truly cannot be sad knowing you're in the crowd, seeing you dance along to his songs and smile at him like he hung the moon.

wrapping the towel around his waist, matty steps out of the bathroom, and immediately smiles (probably gormlessly) at the sight of you, frowning cutely as you try to get netflix to load; his heart melts when you push up your glasses, then turn to beam at him when you catch a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye. “hi, baby. how you feeling?”

“tired,” matty sighs, smiling again when you climb off the bed and peck him on the lips, before tugging him into a cuddle. he hums. “thanks, sweetheart.”

“s'ok,” you press a kiss to his chest tattoo, a move so tender that it never fails to weaken his knees. “d'you want me to make you a hot chocolate while you get ready for bed?”

matty pulls back to look at you, brow furrowed. “we have hot chocolate?”

“there's a setting for it on the coffee machine.”

“there is? i didn't notice.”

“yeah, it's in french.”

“oh,” matty laughs, kissing your head. “this is really a recurring thing for us, isn't it? you keeping me right with drinks in europe because you're the only one of us who can speak french. thank god you were a pretentious teenager, darling.”

you blink at him. “you're taking the piss out of me for being a pretentious teenager?”

“well, i’m not the one who learnt another language so i could read the original text of les mis,” matty smirks. “how's that going, by the way?”

your face takes on the adorably bashful expression matty loves so much. “haven't even finished it in english yet,” you say, before crumbling into laughter that matty can't help joining in on - fuck, he loves you so much. when he tells you as much, you kiss him again. “i love you, too. now - hot choc, or no?”

“i'll take one, please, darling.”

“okay,” you kiss his nose, beaming at the way he scrunches it when you do. “can you see if you can get netflix to work once you're dressed, please, babe?”

“course, darling.”

“thank you, lover.”

there's a final kiss, then you let go of matty and wander to the coffee machine; as silly as it sounds, because you're only about three feet away from him, he misses you as soon as you leave his arms. having you in them, being in yours… that's matty's favourite thing in the world, and he'd gladly sacrifice most other things in life to have it for five minutes longer every morning and night, ten more minutes per day of him just being yours and you just being his.

although, looking at you now, it's so clear that those things are true even without him holding you - the hoodie you're wearing is an old one of his (that honestly looks better on you), the boxers you're wearing as pyjama shorts are his, and he's preeeeetty sure the overly-long nike sports socks you're wandering around in are also his. he gives parts of himself to you, and you accept them gladly, proudly displaying that you're completely his; in heart and mind and soul, too, not just in wardrobe.

he still can't get over that. he doesn't think he ever will.

once he's dressed (clothes warm, because you were sweet enough to put them on the radiator for him) and the tv has loaded properly, matty settles into bed, beaming at you as you wander over with his drink and giggling when you place it on the bedside table and just crawl over him to get to your side of the bed. he kisses the side of your head as you snuggle into him. “you're not having one, darling?”

“nah,” you let out a world-weary sigh. “i've had far too much chocolate today as is. remind me never to agree to going to a gig in switzerland ever again. s'awful for my digestion.”

matty laughs. “or you could just, you know, not eat chocolate.”

you frown adorably at him. he laughs again. “or not.”

“thank you,” your face softens. “s'good, though. try the hot chocolate, see for yourself.”

“right,” matty takes a sip, humming happily at the rich sweetness. “mhmm. yeah.”

“amazing, isn't it?”

he nods, swallowing, then grins. “nowhere near as sweet as you, though.”

“oh, you sap!” you roll your eyes, tucking your face into matty’s chest in mild embarrassment while he giggles; he can feel you smiling through his t-shirt, though. “put the telly on, i can't cope.”

he obliges, free hand coming up to stroke your hair as you watch the episode in relative calm - that is, aside from the two of you constantly laughing at the onscreen antics, and from you covering matty's mouth in an attempt to stop him doing his god-awful impression of a northern irish accent. the whole experience is really domestic, as sweet as the hot chocolate matty finished ten minutes into the episode, the perfect end to a busy work day.

matty stretches when the episode ends, moving to wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on your chest. “time is it, sweetheart?”

“ten past midnight,” you yawn; suddenly, though, you perk up. “oh! happy anniversary, baby!”

he smiles into your chest, dragging himself up to hover over you. “happy anniversary, my girl,” he coos, thumbs stroking your pretty face. “i love you.”

“i love you,” you smile. “kiss, please?”

matty nods, leaning down to press his lips to yours; on instinct, you open your mouth as soon as he does, soundtracked by a sigh that makes his head spin. even now, a year on from it, every kiss you share feels like the very first one up against the wall in the smoking area, full of passion and adrenaline and just total love and devotion that you'd both kept buried for each other for years. the only difference is that now, 365 days on, you know exactly how to kiss matty to make him melt - a moan slips from his throat as you softly swipe your tongue around the perimeter of his lips, which in turn makes you smile, and another follows when you gently bite his lower lip and drag it to release. but it's the way you beam at him afterwards, breathing just as heavily as he is, that gets matty most, makes him hug you as tightly as he can and press little kisses all over your face and hair and get you giggling (his favourite sound in the world).

once you've both caught your breath, kissed some more, and caught your breath again, you speak. “d'you want your anniversary present now, baby?”

matty grins. “yeah. you want yours?”

“yeah,” you beam. reaching across to your bedside table, you take out a little wrapped gift and hand it to him. “for you.”

“thank you, sweet girl,” matty kisses your forehead, rolling off you to pull a thin box from his bag at the side of the bed. “for you.”

“thanks, darling,” you kiss him softly. “go on, you open yours first.”

“alright,” matty carefully rips the brown paper - after smiling, lovesick, at for the love of my life written on it in your unmistakable handwriting - to find what looks like a zine, small enough to fit in his back pocket. he laughs in slight shock at the cover, displaying both of your first initials in a heart and subtitled year one, and this continues when he flicks through the pages. the very first has a picture of the two of you at that fateful birthday party, taken by a friend across the table, as well as one of the receipt for dinner, with little hearts drawn on either side of the listing for your favourite wine; the next, a short typed-out musing ‘written on matty's couch. he's in love with me. he knows i'm in love with him. i've never been so happy in my life. i fell asleep thinking my heart might burst, and that feeling hasn't left me at all. this is true love. i know it now’.

flicking through the pages - he so badly wants to spend time poring over every single one, but he knows now isn't the time - matty feels the exact same way. you've always been shockingly good at gift-giving when it comes to him, but this… this is the best thing anyone's ever done for him.

he doesn't even think love is a strong enough word to describe how he feels about you, to be honest.

you smile when he tells you as much, lifting his hand to kiss it. “i'm glad you like it, baby. i had a lot of fun compiling everything. it was just constant reminders of how much i love you - although, i agree, it's not a strong enough word. maybe i should come up with an alternative. like how coleridge did with soulmate.”

“thank fuck he did, by the way,” matty sighs, leaning in to kiss you. “what would i call you otherwise?”

“i'm sure you'd figure it out. you're very good with words.”

“not when it comes to you, darling,” he smiles. “and that's actually relevant to your gift, so…”

“point taken,” you wink, lifting the lid. your beautiful face takes on a confused expression as you lift out a thin, a3-sized hardback book. “this looks like one of your lyric books from stage…”

“it does, a bit, yeah.”

“...and it has my name on the front,” your jaw drops, and you open the book so frantically that matty can't help but giggle; he laughs even harder when you look up at him, aghast. “this is a score. you wrote me a song?”

“kind of, sweetheart. i mean, i've written you lots of songs already-”

“but none explicitly with my name!”

“no, that's true,” matty moves to sit behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. he feels you relax immediately, which is good, because for a second he thought you were about to go into genuine shock. “and this one is slightly different in another way, too.”

“it is?”

“yeah. look - there aren't any lyrics,” he takes your hand in his own, dragging your finger over the score to show blankness where the words would appear over the stave. “when i said a minute ago that i wasn't good with words when it comes to you, i mean it. you're literally the only person in the world that can render me speechless; trying to concisely convey everything i love about you in words that 1) made sense and 2) worked in a song was impossible. so i figured i would just let the music do the talking,” matty kisses your head. “no lyrics, parts for almost a full orchestra plus the instruments i'm used to writing for… this isn't a song, darling, it's a symphony, the one that plays in my head whenever i think about you.”

“matthew,” your voice is shaky when you say his name; when you turn to look at him, he notices your jaw is too, the telltale sign that you're about to burst into tears. “i think you're absolutely fucking mental. and i love you, i love you, i love you,” your voice cracks into a sob on the last you, and you bury your face in your boyfriend's neck while you cry. “that's the most romantic thing anyone could do, i think, and you did it for me. what the fuck!”

matty giggles, caressing your back and kissing your head soothingly. “s'the least i could do, really.”

“oh, shut up.”

“alright,” he coaxes you out of hiding, wiping your tears away and kissing your nose. “i'll play it for you when we get to a piano tomorrow, yeah?”

“i'd like that,” you peck his lips. “thank you, my love.”

“you're welcome, darling. and thank you for the little zine about us - can't wait to read that tomorrow, too.”

you nod happily - suddenly, your eyes widen. “wait! that reminds me: i got you something else too. and i want us to use them tomorrow.”

“let's see, then,” matty sits up in anticipation, but almost immediately slumps back down exasperatedly when he sees the rolling papers in your hand. “baby…”

“what? it's on-theme!” you grin. “it’s paper! the thing you're meant to give and get to celebrate a first anniversary. and, let's be serious, it was me wanting to smoke that got us here, wasn't it?” 

“you’re incorrigible, sweetheart,” matty shakes his head, hand tracing patterns into your thigh; he can't help but smile, though. “but alright - tomorrow, at some point, we'll smoke.” 

“promise?”

“for fuck's sake,” he sighs. “i promise, even though i think you're demented.” 

you beam. “thanks. i love you!” 

“i love you, too, darling.”

[writers-potion]

I’m trying to write my gods, and I’m not quite sure what dynamics I should include that will make them seem as dysfunctional as they are, but not too much that the humans who worship them know that something is wrong, just my protagonist, and one they’re wrong move away from all tearing apart the world in their hate.

Idk if this is too specific or not but any help is much appreciated. Thanks

Writing Hateful Gods

Thanks for the ask! Please refer to my previous post about Writing Deities for more general tips. 

Hateful God - Hero Dynamics

The god just doesn’t appear in front of humans often. Your protagonist knows a special way to summon them, or find them. 

The god has a partner god who holds back the reins. 

The things they do to “destroy the world” are actually loved by humans. For example, the god may create a beautiful phantom so that humans will fall in love with it and die of heartsickness, but turns out humans were just as happy loving someone they can’t touch. 

Your protagonist has a special power where they can read the minds of gods 

The god may appear just fine on the outside, but there’s something about the protagonist that reminds them of the horrible past and their cruel nature is only revealed when the god sees the protagonist. 

The god has set a time/place where he would destroy the world. When the protagonist gets closer to the god, they come to know about the God’s secret plans. 

The god was nervous about their great “Final Doomsday Plan”, so they decide to test it out…on the protagonist

The god is pained by sadness rather than anger, and the hero is the only one who says kind words to them during worship. Other people just make one-sided demands are leave. 

The god wishes to hide his true self, so he hires a powerful advertising company to make false images and statue of him as The Generous Father. Alas, the hero is an employee in the said advertising company who sees through the god’s veil. 

Consequences of Destroying the World 

Once you’ve established a good reason why they’d want to tear the world apart, the next question would be: why haven’t they done that already? 

You must place a plausible barrier that prevents them from making the world disappear on the spot, something that your protagonist can hope to leverage on to prevent the god from doing just that. 

Maybe the god have tried something similar in the past, and it only ended up killing the person they loved. 

There are strict rules about gods meddling with human beings? What would be the consequences of breaking those rules?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

💎For early access to my content,  become a Writing Wizard 

[adventures-of-tbh-and-btw]

Okay, so I have done nothing for Disability Pride Month. Zero comics, zero asks answered. Hell, I barely reblogged anything to here. And for a moment, I was quite upset about this. Because it wasn’t a case of me being too busy or the like. In fact, I have worked on a myriad of other things. I worked on everything except this blog. Unfortunately, I just could not (and never can) really control what I end up focusing on and subsequently dumping all of my energy into.

I felt really guilty about this, until I realized something:

It’s okay.

Beating myself up over something like this isn’t helpful. In fact, I would argue that it’s actively harmful. Trust me, wallowing in guilt does not do much to spark productivity. So, I started to remind myself of something I think a lot of people forget:

I’m trying my best.

And that is the one message I want to convey to all of you this Disability Pride Month. It’s okay if things are hard for you. It’s okay if you can’t seem to do as much, or do as well, as other people. It’s okay.

You are trying your best.

You are trying in a society that was not built for people like you. You are trying your best with the brain or body you have.

And yes, this goes for physically disabled individuals as well. I know my blog caters more to neurodivergence (because that is what I personally have experience with), but this is just as valid for you guys. You are trying you best in a world that isn’t always accessible, or perhaps judges you for whatever you have going on. And that’s valid. And your valid. I won’t go on extensively with this point, mainly because there are people much more qualified to speak about this particular facet of the disabled community. But I just wanted to mention you guys because you matter too.

No matter who you are, or what you are dealing with, don’t be too hard on yourself. Try your best, and push yourself when you want to (and when it’s healthy!!!), but do not berate yourself. Trust me, there are plenty of ignorant people who will try to do that, do not do it to yourself. You deserve kindness and understanding. And again, the world won’t always provide what you deserve. But you can give that to yourself. And we can give it to each other.

So, Happy Pride!

From,

The Adventures of TBH and BTW.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Mira congrats on your milestone!! I wish I was good at coming up with requests… hmm… do you ever get more ideas for pomegranate ink? Maybe a scene of them much later in the future? I loved that fic so much ☹️ I hope they’re happy and living a super fluffy adorable life after all they went thru 💔 (can you tell I’m still heartbroken over JJK leaks) - @yutaleks

── CLOUDS

Synopsis: A snapshot of your life with Yuta Okkotsu, some time after the events of Pomegranate Ink.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Yuta x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 1.9k

Content Warnings: hurt/comfort, kind of angsty, yuta is insecure, yuta is fundamentally different because of what he did for reader, spoilers for the ending of my ultra mega long fic pomegranate ink (which you all should definitely read)

A/N: on this blog we pretend like the jjk manga doesn’t exist and pomegranate ink is canon LMAO 😭 i haven’t thought much about what y/n + yuta’s life after the main story would look like hence why this is so short, but aleks i hope this heals your yuta-loving soul a bit!! ty for requesting and also being like. my first tumblr follower ever i’m pretty sure 🥹🫶🏻

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

Yuta was rubbing his eyes again. He did so frequently — it was a new habit he had picked up, ever since that final battle against Sukuna. They itched sometimes, he told you, because they were trying to see something they no longer could.

Ever since he had brought you back to life, Yuta had been a normal human. Like Maki, he couldn’t see curses, but unlike her, he couldn’t even sense them, their presences nor their effects. His movements were dulled and slow, and he was far clumsier than he used to be. You knew it frustrated him, the blindness, the childish tripping over his own feet when he was so used to having a sleek body that possessed the grace of a jungle cat.

It wasn’t just his cursed energy that had been depleted. His strength, too, was all but gone. His hands shook when he tried to hold his katana, and although he once was able to carry you around effortlessly, it was now a struggle for him to lift you even a few inches off of the ground for more than a couple of seconds. 

He had given up everything for you. You hadn’t understood the magnitude of it until you saw it in action — he was so prone to downplaying his suffering that you all had dismissed it at first. So what if he couldn’t see curses or use his technique anymore? That only meant he was safer.

But giving up a cursed technique was something unprecedented and new. None of you could have been prepared for what it would do to him. Ieri’s theory was this: because a cursed technique was engraved onto one’s brain and soul, the loss of that energy would immeasurably alter one, had immeasurably altered Yuta, permanently.

Once, his memory had been nearly photographic. Now, he was forgetful, requiring reminders about birthdays and anniversaries and appointments. He no longer seemed so deadly, either — there had always been a malevolent aura following him, a sort of viciousness to his otherwise-kind demeanor that made him so frightening, but now, he was so unassuming and gentle that it was impossible to imagine anyone cowering from him like they all used to.

His eyes bore the most significant shift. They used to be a blue like poison, sharp and dark and predatory in an uncanny way, but now, they were faded and gray, sensitive to the sun and entirely unable to see the world to which they had once belonged. He blinked a lot more, too, and Ieri suspected he might need glasses in the near future — not to see curses in specific, but just to be able to see at all.

“Stop that,” you said, pulling his hands away from his eyes before he could turn them bloodshot. “Ieri said it’s not good for you.”

“Sorry,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut so that the momentary pressure could relieve the discomfort. Resting your palms against his temples, you used your thumbs to soothe over his eyelids, kissing his forehead as you did so. “I’m sorry you have to take care of me. You’re the one who just came back from a mission.”

“It’s okay, Yuta. I don’t mind. It wasn’t a particularly difficult assignment; any curses left have gotten so weak that even an untrained first year could take them on and win. We should finish the clean-up job within the year,” you said.

“I should be out there, too,” he said. “I should be able to help. Maki can do it without a cursed technique, so there’s no reason for me to be like this.”

“Maki has a Heavenly Restriction. It’s a bit different than not having a technique or any cursed energy at all,” you said, as gently as possible. It was difficult for Yuta, who preferred shouldering the world’s burdens on his own, to sit back and watch as the rest of you fought and he stayed behind. Maki, Toge, Yuji…even Noritoshi and Elakshi had returned from their trip abroad to help in your efforts. Every remaining sorcerer had dedicated themselves to the cause, so that you could eradicate the remaining curses and then move on with your lives.

But Yuta Okkotsu was no longer a sorcerer. He was a normal person, and normal people had no place facing off against curses, especially when they could not so much as see them. In this manner, he was weaker than even your mother, who as of late had dedicated herself to running a charity caring for the displaced survivors of the Shibuya and Shinjuku incidents.

“I was the second strongest sorcerer in the world,” he said. “Now I’m nothing. I swore I would always protect you, and I can’t even do that anymore. You’re the one who has to look out for me.”

“You brought me back to life,” you said. “There’s nothing greater that you could do for me than that.”

He wrapped his arms around your midsection, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, pressing his lips against your pulse. It was another new habit of his — now that he could not use cursed signature detection to constantly be aware of your continued existence, he had developed an obsession with feeling your heartbeat, that steady rhythm which reassured him that you were still alive.

“Do you resent me?” he said.

“Why would I resent you?” you said, running your fingers through his silky hair. “Yuta, what could you possibly have done that would make me resent you?”

“When you brought me back to life, you were unchanged. You didn’t become weak; if anything, it made you stronger. It wasn’t like that for me. Don’t you find me pitiful? I couldn’t even resurrect you properly. I had to give up so much to do it. You must find it humorous,” he said. “You must think of me as some half-rate sorcerer.”

“Of course not,” you said. “What you did was ten times as impressive as what I did. I had Rika helping me, and your own natural Reverse Cursed Technique, and of course the heightened emotions which fueled Composition. Beyond that, Composition as a Reverse Cursed Technique was designed for such feats. You had none of those advantages, and yet you still brought me back. That’s not half-rate; that’s the kind of thing that only happens in myths and fairytales.”

Something scalding splashed against your skin, and then you realized that his body was shaking in your embrace. He was sobbing, clinging onto you in a rare display of weakness. Yuta hated falling apart, and he hated falling apart in front of others even more, yet here he was, doing just that. He always told you that he was supposed to be the one that others relied on. He wasn’t supposed to be the one that crumbled, but of course, no one could say strong forever.

“Do you still love me?” he said. If he had held you like this a year ago, then his grip would have crushed you, but now, it was you who had to be careful with your power, with his softer body. “Y/N, do you still love me?”

“Yes, how could you question that?” you said. “I love more than anyone.”

“You loved Yuta Okkotsu,” he whimpered. “Yuta Okkotsu, special-grade sorcerer. Yuta Okkotsu, who was powerful enough to save you from anything. I’m not him anymore. I’m someone else. Someone weak and stupid, who can barely see and whose body always aches.”

“Hey,” you said, holding him at an arm’s length, using the hem of your shirt to dry his tears. “Hey, hey, look at me. Are you looking at me?”

His eyes, the soft color of clouds, settled on you. You weren’t sure what you had done to deserve that kind of trust, that kind of affection or devotion, but you did the best you could with it, holding his face in your hands and squishing his cheeks fondly.

“Yes,” he said.

“I didn’t fall in love with what you have up here,” you said, knocking on his head lightly. “Nor here, nor here.” This was accompanied by pinches on each of his arms. “What I cared about, what I still care about, is this.”

You placed your hand on his heart. He tilted his chin to gaze at it, and you took the moment to flick him, earning you a small whine.

“My heart?” he said.

“Your heart,” you agreed. “In all the world, I don’t think there’s any other that could claim to be its equal, and that’s a fact independent of your cursed technique or your strength. I’ll always love that heart of yours, Yuta. There’s nothing you can do that’ll stop me from doing so. Change your name, change your face, change everything else about you — I’ll recognize it all the same, and I will love it regardless.”

“Do you mean that?” he said.

“I’ve never meant anything more,” you said. “I love you for who you are, not for what you can do.”

“You really, truly are sure of that?” he said.

“How many times do I have to say it? How many words will it take for you to believe me? I love you, Yuta, I love you, I love you, I love you. Is that enough, or is there something else you’d prefer?” you said.

“There is,” he said. “There’s something else I want you to say.”

“What is it?” you said. “You only need to tell me, and I will.”

“I know I’m not strong or capable anymore. I can’t promise to protect you, and it’ll be more work on your part than anything, so I understand if you don’t want to do it,” he said. “It’s a terrible deal for you.”

“Huh?” you said. He avoided your eyes, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, velvet box, opening it and clearing his throat.

“I’m delicate now,” he said. “But if you’ll still have me, even in this condition, then…?”

“Are you proposing?” you said. He nodded shyly.

“I was going to wait to do it until after everything with the curses was resolved, but I don’t think I can wait any longer,” he said. “I guess I kind of got caught up in the moment. I’m sorry.”

I wouldn’t have before, he seemed to be thinking. Before, I would’ve been disciplined enough to deny myself that joy until the perfect moment.

You didn’t want Yuta to ever deny himself anything again, though. He had given you everything so that you could have a second chance at life; it was only fair that you spent the rest of that life with him. It belonged to him already, anyways. Every thump of your heart, every breath in your lungs, every thought in your mind…they were all his.

“Don’t apologize,” you said. “It’s perfect. This is perfect. Everything about it is.”

“Really?” he said dubiously.

“Yes,” you said. “Yes, it’s perfect, and yes, I’ll marry you.”

He swallowed, and then slowly, he slid the ring onto your finger, with all the painstaking care of a surgeon. Then he blinked up at you, frowning when tears of your own welled against your lashes.

“Is everything okay?” he said.

“It’s more than okay. I’m happy,” you said. “I’m so happy that I can’t help but weep. I never thought that I could be so lucky.”

You wished that you could tell your younger versions that the two of you would end up like this, that everything would work itself out in the best way that it could, that eventually, you would again find something like happiness. Maybe it was true that you both were different now — Yuta was missing his cursed technique, and you could never again simultaneously heal and fight — but you had made it. Somehow, despite everything, despite all that you had lost, you had made it.

In the end, what more could either of you ask for?

[ithaquasbbg]

I’m back :3

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Frederick Kreiburg | Composer general relationship headcanons

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Tw: Brief mentions of mental illness but that’s it.

Extra: I love this guy so much I wish he was a little more popular among the fandom :,))

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|🩷| Starting off generally- Frederick seems like the type to be hard to get to know. He doesn’t have large amounts of trust for the people around him, and seems to prefer to be on his own. You’d need to put in effort in order to be in a relationship with him.

|🩷| He’s somewhere between pretty and handsome, though probably leaning a little more towards the feminine side.

|🩷| Frederick is insecure when it comes to his looks, often worrying that you’d only be interested in his looks instead of him as a person. You can compliment his appearance, but he might start getting anxious if that’s the only thing you pull attention to.

|🩷| Sure, he’s been in relationships and flings with many people before, he does have a reputation for wooing people. However, he’s never truly been loved by another person. Because of this, he probably is inexperienced in terms of real romantic acts.

|🩷| On top of his, his childhood doesn’t seem like it was very loving, and he may close up when met with physical affection or kisses for a while. When it happens, he often stares dumbfounded for a while. (It’s cute, but a little sad at the same time)

|🩷| He’s very fond of gift giving, though that’s largely because it’s what he’s used to. At the beginning of a relationship he’d likely believe it to be transactional like his past ones and in turn treats it that way.

|🩷| Though as he gets more comfortable his gifts slowly become less monetary in terms of value, and he’d instead compose and play songs for you as his gifts.

|🩷| When it comes to receiving, he’d likely take time to understand why you’re doing things for him, but he’d be very happy with words of affirmation or acts of service. Remind him that he’s valuable to you because he’s himself, not because he gives you things.

|🩷| In all honesty he strikes me as being potentially on the autism spectrum (self projecting a little) and he may not handle touch well due to sensory problems, but occasionally even he’ll find himself longing to hold onto another person.

|🩷| Frederick is not a fan of PDA, and would rather not be touched in public. This is in part due to him being rather touch adverse, but also because he was raised to be very prim and proper, and likely didn’t receive public affection as a child.

|🩷| That being said, on days where he’s willing to touch you and you’re both in private he probably is quite reserved about it. Making excuses to make contact with you such as “you have a hair in your face”.

|🩷| Occasionally he’ll hug you from behind and bury his head into your shoulder or hair depending on the height difference between you two. Hes on the taller side (I’d guess around 5’11- 6’1) and would probably resort to the latter.

|🩷| In terms of big spoon and little spoon… he’s not a spoon. Frederick is a knife.

|🩷| In all seriousness he’s simply not the most cuddly person ever, but will cuddle occasionally. Because of how touch adverse he tends to be you usually let him initiate it, and he typically ends up as the big spoon.

|🩷| He can make a really good little spoon too, especially if he’s the more submissive PERSONALITY (not freaky… this is a holy x reader blog for now!!) in a relationship. Though even then you’d likely need to pull him into that position after he’s fallen asleep, he’d be too embarrassed to be awake in that position.

|🩷| He strikes me as a closeted bisexual, perhaps pansexual. I wouldn’t see him being entirely opposed to polyamorous relationships, but I think he’d likely feel much more secure in a monogamous relationship.

|🩷| He’s a good kisser when he’s open to kissing, probably one of the things he’s the most experienced with in terms of relationships.

|🩷| On top of that he can be quite charming, he knows how to use his words to woo a person through past experiences. Though even then, don’t expect anything too bold from him.

|🩷| Frederick is decisive and can be quite stubborn, he likes to be the one making choices and can come off a little bratty in these situations. But truth be told, he simply wants to know that you respect his thought process and opinions. Please let him make choices from time to time, it really makes him feel more appreciated.

|🩷| He’s an easy person to fluster if you know what buttons to press. Public intimacy is a good shortcut to flustering him some days (going back to this topic. Whoops.) Frederick is pale, and there’s no way to hide the blush on his cheeks.

|🩷| His favorite nicknames for you are probably quite tame if he even uses them. The only one I could really see him using is the occasional “dear”

|🩷| Though you may catch him calling you “his angel” from time to time.

|🩷| Frederick strikes me as somebody who you would call things like “darling” and he’d enjoy it. You could call him “sweetheart” but he’d likely just be confused on why anyone would consider him of all people sweet.

|🩷| Due to his mental health struggles he’s probably somebody who needs a partner willing to put in lots of energy, but he’d totally give 110% back in return.

|🩷| Frederick can function on his own especially after being disowned. This comes out when you’re sick the most, he’ll make you food or drinks and stay by your side as much as he’s able to.

|🩷| His hair would likely be quite nice to play with, and with enough convincing he would probably allow you to fidget with it while he does other things. It’s the least overstimulating type of touch for him, and he’d appreciate your contact even if it’s only through that. :)

[ilys00ga]

hellooo, ur blog is such a comfort for me <3 ! can i request yoongi meeting reader who’s quite literally the same person as him. he could’ve met the reader through one of the members trying to hook them up. “you two are so alike it’s scary, i think you’d be a match made in heaven”. so yoongi agrees..eventually. but when he meets the reader, it’s horrible! their similar personalities clash in the worst way possible. it’s pretty funny to everyone, because they totally thought they were in matchmaker mode?? the two constantly talk about how they couldn’t stand each other, so it surprised everyone when yoongi just admitted that he’d and the reader had been dating for a few months after their first meeting. loll

A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN.

pairing: yoongi x reader.

genre: fluff, i tried to make it funny loool, best friends to lovers, non idol au (?), non idol!yoongi, non idol!jimin, non idol!namjoon, jimin is the dramatic bestie and namjoon is just the very supportive friend that's happy to be there.

warnings: this is pure fiction and English is not my first language.

A/N: okay so, there was also this one ask I got from @parkjennykim that says: "Hiiii ❤️ hope this finds you well. Could you write a fluffy bsf to lovers with yoongi? Theres hardly any of those out there 😭 i need some fluff ive been too deprived and depressed".

I thought these two were similar so I decided to merge them, I hope that's ok for both of u :). thank u sm for sending these reqs, I really appreciate it and I hope u enjoy this read. do not hesitate to send more if u want to !

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

“I'm sorry, WHAT?!” Jimin, who’d been slouched on the couch with his head leaning against its rolled arm, sat up straight and goggle-eyed as soon as he heard what Yoongi had said.

The latter only rolled his eyes, not surprised one bit at his friend’s dramatic reaction. In fact, he expected it to be so much worse, but he guessed the younger one was just too tired that day for all of that. “don’t be loud.” he hissed and crossed his arms.

“hyung, are you serious?” Namjoon asked from where he was sitting with his chopsticks hanging in the air near his mouth as he too was stunned by the eldest’s statement.

“why the hell would i lie and say that me and __ have been dating for almost two months now?” Yoongi muttered through narrowed his eyes. "TWO MONTHS- woah, this is crazy. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” The youngest of the three covered his face with his hands and heaved a big, disappointed sigh.

“Seriously, why is he so annoying today?”

Namjoon chuckled as the older continued side eyeing their dongsaeng, “hyung, he’s just really happy for you. I too am.”

“I’m very happy, yes, but, hyung, how could you hide such a thing from me? I literally helped you grow the balls to ask her out.” Jimin whined and slouched back down on the couch with a growing pout, “I've been waiting for you two to get together for months.”

It's true, Jimin was a man on a mission ever since he’d noticed the insanely similar character traits when you and your (now) boyfriend met for the very first time. two individual human beings but the exact same patterns and edges. on a large scale, talking to you always felt like talking to Yoongi and vice versa.

It was like a game to him. It made him buzz with excitement, reminding himself every now and then to keep a close eye and count all the similarities you two shared. not that it was hard to notice to begin with: having almso the exact same taste (especially in music), always sitting silently when being around other people and speaking little amounts of words when necessary, getting flustered and smiling shyly when being complimented, being chill and too soft to scold or yell at anyone (most of the time), having that same slow tone in your voices whenever you talk, having random bursts of energy or playful teasing despite the cold facade both of you display, getting so talkative when it comes to topics and things you’re so passionate about, being very honest but never too rude or offensive about it, being the most hardworking people jimin has probably ever met in his entire life—something that nevers fails to admire about the two of you.

You and Yoongi were so similar, even your bad habits and red flags matched. When setting your mind on finishing a task—say a project for example—you’d wear your bodies out for the sake of completing it, even if it meant you’d stay up several hours late during the night. and when mad or during intense clashes and arguments, you would put thick walls between you and the other person, ignoring and shutting them out until you're human enough to confront them. sometimes it’s too hard to even apologize, instead, you’d slowly start approaching them as if nothing had happened at all.

“No wonder you two ended up together, you’re basically a match made in heaven.” Namjoon nodded his head as he munched on his food, as if approving of his own statement.

“i know! and the way you wasted your time pinning on each other was killing me.” being the biggest shipper of your pair, Jimin huffed as he spoke with a very serious tone.

“how did you guys even make it?” namjoon asked.

“We hit it off right after the first date.” Yoongi answered with a shrug, acting as nonchalant as ever.

“you mean the date i had set for you?” it was jimin who asked this time, and when Yoongi nodded in confirmation, the younger groaned and buried his face into the couch, “hyung, you are seriously the worst.”

“hyung, you both are coffee addicts, take her to a new café this time!” Jimin suggested with a huge grin on his face. after finding out that you two secretly liked each other, he spent weeks pressuring Yoongi to confess his feelings for you. He couldn’t believe that his hyung finally obliged after many “no”s and “I don’t like __ that way.”s and “we’re just friends.”s. it was getting really annoying.

YG: “Can we hang out tomorrow? as two people wanting to know each other.”

ME: “Are you asking me on a date?”

YG: “yeah?”

ME: “okay :)”

that was the conversation you had with him the day before he took you on a cute café date. The place was impressively good, but the date was the complete opposite of that. Nothing bad happened, yet sitting down with someone you’ve known for a good period of time and have shared good amounts of vulnerability with in that intimate context was too unpleasant. Both of you struggled to find comfort and normality in the heavy awkward silence that fell on the table. and everytime he would try to play it off and throw some joke or normal piece of conversation that he found appropriate for a date, you two ended up laughing int your sweaty palms because of how ridiculous the whole situation was.

“stop laughing!” Yoongi exclaimed while his shoulders shook, giggling.

“I'm sorry, I'm trying!” you wiped at the corners of your eyes.

"Just act like this is a normal hangout.." he had said after a short moment.

"We're literally on a date." you reminded him.

“right..”

The “date” didn’t last long, and the two of you ended up at his house. eating popcorn on his couch and watching your favorite series of movies together.

Later that night, he asked, “so, what are we?”

“whatever you want us to be.” you answered with flushed cheeks.

“I like you..” he whispered, eyes never leaving the TV screen acroos the couch, "more than friends should like one another."

“Great, ‘cause I'd be sad if you didn’t like me back.” you whispered back, never daring to glance his way even for a split of a second.

“Wait, does that mean I won the bet?” Namjoon suddenly spoke, making Jimin kick him lightly on the shoulder from where he was still lying with a sour frown, and toss a few dollars he had grabbed from his wallet at the smiling man's extended palm.

“Did you two seriously make a bet on my relationship?” came a sharp question from Yoongi.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Sokkla actually saved my life.

In my early 20s, I had left my abusive family to move in with my high school sweetheart. But once we were living together, he showed a side of him I had never seen before.

He became abusive and cruel and began to cheat. And everytime he blamed everything on me and my depression and anxiety (I have PTSD from my childhood). He made it seem like this was the best I was ever going to get because no one would ever want a broken person like me.

Eventually he dumped me and left me with nowhere to go. I had to move back in with my abusive parents and I wanted to kill myself. They agreed with my boyfriend that no one would want me because I came back to them even more traumatized and mentally ill with mean outbursts and constant crying.

I genuinely thought it was over for me. I had always identified with Katara and Zuko the most, so I had shipped Zutara as a teen. But now I could no longer see myself in Katara because she was so strong and kind and everyone loved her.

I felt more like Zuko except a version of him that nobody could love with his scars. I began to see myself more like Azula. Doomed and tragic. The more hate I read about her, the more I searched for it and applied it to myself. Everytime someone called her irredeemable or unloveable, I took those words as a reminder to myself of how the world truly saw me. I guess it was a kind of self harm…

Eventually this became a late night ritual. And it was while doing this one night, sobbing my eyes out, that I clicked on what I thought was another fic about Azula being tortured and hated or punished and executed. But I must’ve misclicked because instead I ended up on a Sokkla fic.

And I don’t know if it was just my emotional state or how late it was, but by the end when Sokka showed her he could still love her, I just broke. I started looking for more Sokkla fics and art. Instead of looking for content punishing and hating Azula so I could harm myself, I started wanting to find stories where she healed and was happy. And Sokkla fics were so good about this without making Azula just a crazy person abuser or erasing all of her problems either.

Eventually I found metas written by some lovely Sokkla shippers on here and I decided that maybe, if I could be kinder to Azula, I could be kinder to myself.

But I made the mistake of sharing this on my tumblr and all my old Zutara friends FREAKED OUT. Lot all of them were mean about it, but some were. And eventually it ended up in tags that attracted other Zutara shippers and they attacked me over and over again, saying the most messed up things. Calling me mentally ill. Calling me homophobic. Calling me an abuse apologist. Even saying I must be an abuser and a horrible person if I identified with a psychopath like Azula at all. All because I said I like Sokkla now and it helped me.

I left the Zutara fandom that day. But I still love ATLA! I love Katara and Zuko as much as I used to, I just don’t really ship them anymore.

Sokkla is my ship now and it upsets me when people Zutara or TyZula or other fans bash it for no reason. Just like what you like and leave us alone! Zutara gives me panic attacks sometimes now because of it. I blocked all the tags and I’m never going back.

By the way, I’m doing better now! I’m back in school and I have new friends. One of my friends has a cute brother who likes ATLA. And his favorite character is Sokka. I asked him if he likes Sokkla and he said he had never thought about it before. But now we send each other fan art!

I have hope now, and a lot of that is thanks to friends and therapy. But Sokkla fandom helped me realize I deserved those things to begin with. If they could show empathy to Azula, then maybe people could show it to me too.

And to everyone in the Zutara or TyZula fandom who harasses people who ship Azula with people you don’t like: FUCK YOU.

Thank you for this blog. It helps me realize I’m not crazy. They really can be that mean and delusional. Sorry for the rant.

...Anon, do you want a hug?

[heartsforjh]

i have a requesttt.. something with maybe jack hughes and base it off the song happiness by taylor swift? it could be a sad or happy ending.

if you can’t do it all good! i can’t wait to read more of your work. ps i love the layout of your blog! it’s so cute.

have a lovely day💕💕

thank you so much! sorry for the long wait! 🥹

you lay in bed, eyes puffy and irritated from days of nonstop crying. it felt like there was no escape from the memories of him, even in your own room. after yet another falling out with Jack, you made the painful decision to end things completely.

“y/n i’m sorry. you know i say things i don’t mean when i’m mad.” The most recent text, stared back at you from your screen, just one of many in the slew of messages he’d been sending since the breakup. you sigh, fingers hovering over your keyboard, torn between replying and letting him pull you back in or staying true to what you were once so sure was the right thing to do.

“i love you. we can work this out.” The next text comes in, and your mind floods with memories of him— the way he’d pull you close and whisper words of comfort after an argument, how his laughter lit up the quiet room during late nights when you both should’ve been sleeping, or the way he’d grab you by your waist, stealing soft kisses and leaving butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

you think about it and convince yourself that simply replying couldn’t hurt. it doesn’t necessarily mean you want him back—just… clearing the air. but as you go to text him, a pit forms in your stomach, heavy and nauseating. it’s a feeling of regret before you’ve even done anything—a creeping sense of dread you can’t shake.

just as before, your mind gets flooded with memories. only this time, they’re not lighthearted or fun. these memories are cruel reminders of the constant loneliness you felt in the relationship, the wandering eyes, and most vividly, the day everything fell apart—the day you discovered the messages in his phone.

DM after DM Jack had been complimenting multiple women and flirting with them like it was nothing. when you confronted him, he brushed it off, claiming he was “just being friendly.” but, of course, you knew better. the same words he used on every single one of those girls were the ones once used on you. and now, you can’t help but think about how unfortunate it is that they worked.

slowly, you set your phone down on the bed, next to where you’re laying. you don’t want it to be a messy breakup. especially when the constant arguments during the relationship were chaotic enough. replying would just get Jack going even more, fueling his desperation to get you back. but you realize—you don’t want to go back. sure, you had your beautiful times with jack. those moments were always the ones you’d look back on after another fight, convincing yourself that you were happy and should stay. however, you know now that you don’t need Jack or anyone else, for that matter. you can, and will find your own happiness.

i tried my best seeing as i’m not the biggest swiftie! the entire process of posting this was an EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER 😭 i do like how it turned out even tho im personally not completely in love with the ending. regardless, i hope you enjoyed this one 🫶