#by the time i start worrying about like. 'is this writing i am doing for fun too silly

[robo-writing]

Hello!! I came from your single mom one shot and I am in love with how you write Logan. Could we have a worst!Logan and wife!reader at a bar and he’s getting hit on relentlessly by a girl who won’t take the hint even though he has stated that he is happily married MULTIPLE TIMES and then reader comes in and rips the girl a new asshole and Logan likes it a little too much and practically drags her home to fuck because of how hot he got from her getting angry and defending him?

How very Beth Dutton of you op! The girl that stands in front of him flashes him a smile—pearly whites, black hair that reaches down to her back, topped off with a low-cut shirt and a pair of jeans that draw the eye of everyone behind the bar—everyone except him that is.

He knows what she wants from him before she can utter a single word, eyes shamelessly moving across his body with not a hint of subtlety. A few years earlier and it might've worked, she's cute enough. A vixen, all doe-eyed and determined, if he was a younger man she might've been his type. But that's all in the past; she's cute, Logan thinks to himself, but she's not his wife. His eyes don't move from where you're standing at the bar, barely giving the girl more than a passing glance as she speaks. "Hey there, mind if I keep you company?" He almost rolls his eyes, but he keeps himself in check in hopes that he can resolve this without any trouble.

"I do unfortunately," he says, flashing the pretty gold band around his finger as he takes another swig of his beer. His fingers play with the ring around his finger, smiling to himself like a love-struck fool when he remembers what it symbolizes. He'd hope that would be the end of it, but unfortunately for him, it is.

The gal's either too drunk or too pig-headed to get the hint, so instead of backing away she leans in real close, too damn close—close enough that it starts to draw your attention from across the bar.

Suddenly your interest isn't in your drink anymore, and before you can walk closer Logan puts his hands up, mouths out lemme handle this, before speaking up again. "Listen, I'm a taken man." He says with a sigh, giving her his full attention. It doesn't deter her in the slightest, a coy smile tugging on the ends of her lips. "That's a shame. Your wife know you're here?" "She does," he nods with a smile, "and she's right over there." He points right to you, where you raise your glass with a thin-lipped smile, sarcasm evident in your body language. He can tell you're in a good mood tonight because you haven't dragged the girl by the hair yet, and he'd rather not ruin the night because she can't take a hint. Surely, she'll leave—except she doesn't. No, she does the exact opposite; she looks back and sees you, laser-focused on the two of them, and with all the audacity in the world, she fucking smiles back. You almost shatter the damn glass in your hand. "Oh, that's alright," she whispers with a wink. "Lemme go talk to her." His eyebrow damn near reaches his hairline, looking at the young girl as if she's truly lost her damn mind. Normally he wouldn't give a damn if someone wants to catch their death, but he takes pity on her for the sole reason that he really doesn't want to get kicked out. "I don't think that's a good idea." "Don't worry," she says, and to put the icing on the cake she puts her hand on his chest, loops her fingers around his dog tags and tugs him down. "I can handle myself." With that one gesture he knows she's just sealed her fate. No, you can't, he wants to say, but she's already making her way across the bar where you stand, looking like hell itself. You know he doesn't have eyes for anyone else but you, but it doesn't matter—someone else touched what's yours, so you have to remind Logan where home is. He's not really sure if he should feel happy that his girl is so protective of him, or sad that he's about to get kicked out of his favorite bar. Logan sighs and puts his beer down, reaching into his pocket and dialing 9-1-1 just as the telltale sound of glass shattering echoes across the bar. It really is a shame—he liked this bar too. The only good thing that comes from tonight—minus the visual of you with blood across your face—is the jaw-dropping sex that ensues the moment the two of you get home, remnants of rage seeping through every touch as you drag him upstairs by the collar. He's more than happy to let you take the lead, content in being your personal scapegoat if it means he gets to see you bounce on his lap like a woman possessed.

Lips intertwined, clothes askew and hair tousled. The taste of iron—a split lip, he remembers—then moans into your mouth when he remembers how you got it. Is it wrong to say you look your most beautiful when you're mad? He doesn't give a shit if it is, especially if his punishment is your pussy gripping him like a vice. He likes you like this—jealous, protective—it's what drew him to you in the first place, how you bite down on what's your and refuse to let go. From the moment you saw him you staked your claim and he was more than happy to follow you for the ride. "You like it when she touched you?" You mutter, lips pressed against his as you ride him for all your worth. Sweat beads off his brow, eyes closed in bliss, he nods his head no but it's not enough—you want to hear him say it. You teeth dig into the skin of his shoulder, a delicious groan erupting from him as you repeat yourself. "Answer me Lo, did you fucking like it?" "No, no—" he gasps, hands wandering across your body. "Wasn't even looking at her, swear to god—" "And who were you looking at?" you ask, and the answer makes your walls flutter across his cock. He lets you hear him loud and clear, giving you a lop-sided grin as he thrusts up into you.

"You, sweetheart, only you." "Louder," you moan, scratching at the expanse of his back, encouraging him. He repeats himself, fucking into your gushing cunt, his words bringing you to a new high with every thrust. His words are long, drawn out, caught in his throat as he struggles between speaking and catching his breath. "Only got eyes for you baby—fuckin' christ—" He speaks long after you've stopped, so engrossed in pleasure you can barely hear anything beyond your ringing ears and the slap of your ass against his thighs. "All yours baby, all fuckin' yours."

[winxfairyliveshere]

Ruben Dias x Wife Reader

Angst

Hi!!! I really don't know if i am doing a good job or not. I just said "Why not write fanfics?" and here i am. This is my first time and English is not my mother language so if there are mistakes, pardon me :) I hope you guys like it!!!! Feedbacks are welcomed 🥰

It was a hard week that you three had. Man City lost a game, you were dealing with a toddler and a backpain cause of the pregnancy. Teo, your son, was not helping, he is clinging into you every day. You just don't have any "me time"s. Your husband, Ruben, was also nervous and a little bit impatient for the next game. Because he wants to prove everyone he is still best, a game can't define his abilities and skills. That's why he was doing a double exercise everyday. He's the gym king, always was, always will be. But after you gave birth to your first child Teo, he made some changes in his routine for becoming a good father and a caring husband. And he is doing amazing. But as you said before, he was impatient for the next game. And when you said him he is being too concerned for it, his big brown eyes found yours with annoyance.

"What are you saying?"

"I am saying you are too anxious for the game. You should be more relax, you are exercising well eating well, you will be good. Remember? You are Ruben Dias. You did your part, its time to trust God." He laughed at your words like you said something silly. You looked at him with questioning eyes. But he returned to clean his game shoes, ignored your look.

You peeked a look to your son, you can see your son playing in the living room through the door, he was happy. And then you took a few steps to Ruben, he was in the hallway. You tapped his right shoulder a little bit harsh and said "Why are you laughing at me?"

And it made him angry. He got up furious from where he sit. He opened his mouth and then he probably remembered your son was to close to the hallway so he came closer to your face.

"Don't talk like you know so much about football" he muttered with his index finger pointing at you. You were in shock. You were 6 months pregnant, hormones walking over you like a flood, crying at everything, well, you were always a delicate person so this wasn't a big surprise.

"I know nothing?! Then talk to me! I know the past match making you uncomfortable but what i am saying is, you can do better and you will be. I just trust you and want you to trust yourself-"

"Y/n, no. No okay? You can't understand me at this point. You can't understand. You are not in the football world."

This words broke your heart. Yes you are not in the field playing active football like your husband but you are in the football world. You know how hard it is, how it can be challenging for your family. You remember yourself worrying and crying about your husband what if he wouldn't come to your delivery because of his crazy schedule. You remember that lonely nights with your infant son because Ruben was at a different country cause of the Champions League. You remember the time Ruben got hit to his head, laying on the field with blood on his face. You started to shake, wondering will he be okay. This and all other stuff. You lived this things because you are in the same world with him, you got in this world because you love him unconditionally. And right now he says no you can't understand him, you are at a different world. Wow.

You shook your head, laughed ironically. "So you basically say i can't understand you huh? I know nothing? So what am i then to you?" You pointed your big belly. "Am i just a body you can fuck and make babies? Since i can't understand your world, this makes me just a body, not a soul mate as i thought, huh? Why are you staying with me then?" Ruben tried to say something but you acted fast.

"No shut up!" Your voice was raising high. "Why did you make a baby with me then? You think i know nothing about your job but you are building a family with me. As i remember i made this babies with you." You were referring your belly and Teo with your two hands. "I was not under of a another man."

He took a big step and gripped your arm tightly. You saw his veins in his forehead and neck.

"Shut up y/n! You are crossing the line. Yes i remember the nights you were under me, there is no other way around. Watch your words or this will go worse."

"Worse?! What will you do?" You looked at your arm with Ruben's hand on it.

"Mãe?"

You both turned your heads to the living room. Teo was standing in front of the door with his cute pyjama set and bare feet. Ruben let go of his hand from your arm and walked to the other direction while sighing. You walked to the your scared son, his cheeks were red. He inherited this from you. Your cheeks will turn red whenever you feel intense emotions. He was tall compared to his piers like Ruben when he was a child. Ruben approached you as you held him in your arms, he looked at his father first and said "Why are you yelling mãe?" while snuggling you. "Oh baby we are just discussing something with your father. You know adults solve their problems through talking right? But i think this time my voice was to high, you are right." You kissed his head, took him off from your arms and said "Go upstairs and brush your teeth. Its sleeping time. I'm coming after you."

"Can you read Portuguese stories tonight? I'm bored of others." he said. You shook your head and he climbed the stairs slowly. You both watched him.

After he left, you looked at your husband's face, his very handsome face. Whenever you look at him, you find comfort. Always. But this time it caused your tears to drop. You left him alone with his training shoes and went your son's room.

Let me know if you want part 2!

[olderthannetfic]

It would do a lot of people well to keep in mind that "I am ashamed of this" and "I don't want to have that conversation" are two very different things (and neither is the same as "I would be unsafe if people found out", but people are generally pretty good at separating that one out).

Anecdote 1:

When I first started writing explicit fic, I was ashamed of it. I was worried what my friends would think of me (even though I knew objectively that none of them would care, and was very aware that many of them wrote explicit fic themselves) and I was embarrased and had some sex negativity baggage to overcome, so I made a second AO3 account. Now I've killed the cop in my head, as the kids say, and have told most of my friends who'd be interested about my fic, and and intend the merge the accounts whenever I get off my ass and have time for that project.

This was shame, pure and simple. I would have been better off if I'd been able to overcome the shame right away instead of spending all that time feeling like I had to hide a dirty secret.

Anecdote 2:

I have been dabbling with crossdressing lately. I'm a trans man and my family are supporting and accepting, but not very knowledgeable; pretty much everything they know about transness is stuff that I've taken the time to explain to them. They understand how important it is to me to be seen as a man, and when I first came out I explained, and they accepted, that wearing men's clothing is significant and meaningful and fulfilling for me. Crossdressing is something I'm experimenting with now that I'm more secure in my identity, and it's been pretty fun. I feel no shame or embarassment about this. But having to explain the intricate nuances of gender presentation, expectations, subversions, and how violating gender norms is fun would be a hell of a lot of work and I'm just not ready to sit my mom down and explain Advanced Concepts in Gender when she had to work to get a basic understanding of Gender is not Biology.

This is not shame. It's avoiding an awkward and lengthy conversation that I just don't see any point in having. So when my mom comes to visit I don't leave a skirt on the sofa. That's all.

Many people would say that my not wanting my mom to find out about the crossdressing is the same as my not wanting my friends to find out about the kinkfic. I knew my friends would be accepting of my fic, and I know my mom would be accepting of my crossdressing. Both are things that are perfectly fine, I should feel good about them, I shouldn't hide them. But hiding something doesn't necessarily mean you feel bad about it.

--

[aspenlovesmedia]

Time to talk about Martin as a Buried avatar because I am aware this seems like an odd choice in my au but I have my reasons.

So, to get a little personal for a moment (this is relevant I promise), I have often felt trapped by my own mental illnesses, my differences to others, and my need for people to like me. For a long time I forced myself to do whatever I could to help others because in my mind if I didn’t then they would have no reason to like me and people had to like me because it was better that I was burning myself out than being alone again. I think you can see the similarities between my own experiences and Martin.

The Buried I think is often overlooked, and I feel like a lot could have been done with being trapped by your own anxiety, where you’re buried underneath the worries of everyone else and can’t escape the hell of your own creation because you’re so afraid to be a bad person.

While Martin very much fits the Lonely and the Web, I feel season 1/2 Martin had such a potential to become aligned with the Buried instead. Rather than isolating himself, Martin becomes more and more desperate to help everyone around him because if he helps them, then he’s useful, but this also leaves him unable to do anything else. He’s so caught up in keeping everyone else happy (or at least as close to it as he can get them) that he struggles to do anything else. His anxiety around how others view him traps him, and the powers around him want him stuck.

Now the Shifted Gaze Martin is in a slightly different situation to canon Martin by the time the story starts as he’s actually friends with Jon. Jon is already well on his way to becoming a Web avatar, so he’s a pretty different person to what he is in canon. He’s still really not the best at socialising, but it’s more in a he says the bare minimum of words he needs to rather than he’s being a dick kind of way. To put a long story short, Martin sees this man who is completely alone, and makes it his mission to ensure Jon isn’t as alone as he is.

The thing is in doing so, he accidentally becomes the one thing keeping Jon’s humanity alive, and that makes Martin the perfect target for the Buried. Martin begins by being trapped trying to help Jon, then that extends to Sasha and Tim when he joins the archival team, and he does not have the time or energy to take care of himself. Martin and Jon’s dynamic in this au is really not the healthiest lol. I’d say it gets better but that would be a lie. Martin so strongly ties himself to the people he cares for he stops caring about what happens to himself, and when certain events happen, well let’s just say the Buried gets a new avatar.

Martin is still aligned with the Lonely in some ways in this au, but the Buried is what claims him.

Btw sorry if any of this is rambly or doesn’t make sense, I am writing this while sleep deprived lol. I feel like this will really start to make sense as I write him in the actual story rather than me explaining it this way since I have to leave out some major things due to spoiler reasons. If you have questions please feel free to ask them I would love to answer.

[sufferu]

Bravo to you for choosing not to let Rem be forgiven so easily. Honestly I've never been a big fan of Rem as a character, sometimes her endless pandering and obsession with subaru just really annoys me instead, and I've never understood people looking at her doing all that and then saying “Wow that's so hot I'm so jealous of Subaru!”

As for the ones who want her deeds to be easily forgiven by everyone, my personal guess is that they all only care about her body and the unheathy way she forces herself to act like the perfect waifu just for Subaru's sake, but subconsciously they can't stand the shit she did either, so they secretly want their favorite waifu to be a perfect being without flaws. But to me, isn't it essential to love a character and accept their flaws as well? They did wrong things, but there's no doubt THEY did them anyway, and that is part of what makes them who they are. Another thing is that forgiveness has to be earned, we're not cruel, coldhearted, or closeminded for not forgiving someone who hurts us. So I too agree with that anon who thinks WHDAA cast need to to beat some sense into Subaru on way too forgiving and tolerating the people who have hurt/killed him.

But now that you've decided to do that, beware of those rabid Rem stans coming after you and I'm worried that their harassment goes overboard and affects your personal life

I will say — I believe that Rem and Subaru’s canon dynamic is one of the most intriguing and multifaceted dynamics in the entire series. Their parallels regarding their insecurities and family members, their mutually codependent tendencies, the way they run the risk of becoming each other’s perfect enablers, the genuine sense of love and affection that runs parallel to the unintentional toxicity fostered within their relationship — it’s all really interesting stuff. In fact, exploring their dynamic through the lens of outsiders (including amnesiac!Rem) finally getting to peer under the hood is one of the main reasons I wanted to write a react fic at all.

As for why people like her — honestly, I think it’s kinda easy to guess? She’s a very cutely designed anime girl, she’s incredibly well-voiced, her insecurities are genuinely relatable, she’s got a super awesome oni power-up transformation, her morning star lends itself to some of the best choreographed action scenes in the series (or at least Season 1), she appeals to the whole “submissive maid” aesthetic that she knows Subaru finds attractive (and that also appeals to the target demographic of Re:Zero specifically, let’s be real here) — and frankly, there are so many scenes in anime where characters we’re supposed to like do fucked up shit that it’s not difficult to just…gloss over the whole “tortured the mc for several hours” part of her character. It’s understandable, especially if you’re not an insane person who spends all their time hyperanalyzing the anime they’re a fan of like I am. I don’t think it’s really that far of a leap for her to develop such a massive following, she was basically designed to be as popular an anime waifu as physically possible.

But then, that clash can become…a little uncomfortable if you’re writing a story where “Rem tortures Subaru” is a major plotpoint, and if you don’t want to reevaluate their entire relationship, it makes sense to find a way to just — get the characters to move along, much like a lot of the irl audience does.

But I really like toxic characters and angst and complicated relationships and all that fun stuff, so that’s what I’m gonna focus on. —Also Rem is WORSE in the LN. Girl starts fantasizing about whisking Subaru away while he’s practically comatose from shock (second Arc 3 loop) and then also makes a comment like “even if he had tried to assault her in her sleep, she knew she never would have resisted” like GIRL??? The idea of not tapping that insane well of potential drama is ludicrous to me lmaoo— especially because I really don’t care about maintaining the status quo ;)

(Also frankly, anyone who would start seriously harassing me over whether or not I share their opinion about a fucking anime girl is too pathetic for me to care about. I honestly don’t think I’ll get that big of a response — especially not on Tumblr “Gay Website” Dot Com — but even if I do…I don’t care, lmao.)

[joyfulzombieeagle]

I have to write my thoughts on Wednesday's game since I have woken up from the high of Azzi's return :

The game was ugly, especially the first quarter mind you they are playing an unranked pretty cupcake team. Rotations are messy; the team needs to practice more for the post and paint. Must figure things out, or it will be ugly in December. They will be ready by March, but I'm not sure by December.

I am not worried about Paige because there will be off-shooting nights. Fans are just expecting her to be perfect every game. She wasn't doing anything wrong, but sometimes, your shots won't fall. It happens to the best, but she contributed to everything else. This is why it is nice we have different offensive options. We don't want the ND game to happen again.

SARH STRONG IS SPECIAL. You know how good you have to be to stand out in a team that has Paige Buckers tbh she could be equal to Paige as FRESHMAN!!!!!! This, with her restricting herself and still being unselfish, as Geno said, is an all-around player, impacting every stat in the game!!! I know she got the 3PT shot, but I would love it if they did more plays for her in the paint. The UConn team will be ok with her, that is for sure.

Ice continues to improve and become more confident, which is why she is in the starting lineup. Also, her FG% is really good. She needs to take more shots and rebound more.

Ash is ash; she is streaky but doing well defensively.

I love KK energy, but I don't see her in the starting lineup over Chen all season.

Chen is great, and she and Paige have great chemistry. She didn't have any turnovers, which is good.

JANA !!!! I wish you all give Ice the grace you give Jana. She is really good at rebounding especially offensive rebounds, but from the first game I saw, she is bad at layups. She just chucks them and hopes they go in, there is no need to rush her shot, but she does. I get why Geno was pissed as fuck. The layup she made was crazy. Who the fuck makes a layup like that? And she doesn't look athletic to me. I hope she proves me wrong.

Morgan is the best of the other freshmen. She makes many rookie mistakes, but you can see her hustle defensively, Allie still doesn't move me, I don't see her getting many minutes this season.

Q is not getting much time either.

For AZZI FUDD, I was so happy even if she didn't score anything. I am happy that the first game jitters were gone I am sure she was nervous as fuck and to me, she looked really really good for the limited time she got. I was most impressed with her defense; she was so aggressive, and she looked strong like the girl who fouled her was decked to the ground lol. Also, I think the team was not used to her playing with them, yet maybe they didn't practice together enough because when she subbed in the 3rd quarter, they passed her the ball once for a shot, and she missed lol. Her shots would fall eventually, and I see her getting in the starting lineup. The team needs her to be 100% the Azzi Fudd in March to win the ring. Let her accumulate, like Geno said, for now.

[aplaceinthedark]

chapter three: ONE TASTE of the LIFE

Summary: The Appalachian Mountains hide numerous monsters, and it's up to Taylor and the Bad Omens to prevent them from causing any harm.

Word Count: 2,945

CW: Supernatural themes, Star Wars spoilers, Hand Jobs (male receiving)

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long. For the past several months, I've been dealing with job issues and major burnout depression. Whereas that's still hanging around, I think I might be in a better place to write more. If you're still hanging on despite my hiatus, thank you very muchness.

This is RPF, and thus will contain real people, but names and events will be changed. If this bothers you too much, then please leave this temple without causing harm.

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

“Taylor? Are you listening to a word I said?”

I jumped, nearly knocking my water bottle over. “N-No. I’m sorry. What were you saying?” I asked sheepishly.

Rachel smiled sympathetically. “Still worried about the break-in?” she asked. I nodded, as I had told everyone that that was the reason why I was so jumpy.

I liked Rachel. Despite being almost twenty years older than me, she was sort of my only friend outside the circle of misfits and monsters I had embedded myself in. She also didn’t live in New Hope, thankfully. She was a transfer from a bigger town, since our library desperately needed one after one of our librarians “mysteriously disappeared” last August.

Said librarian’s assistant had also “mysteriously vanished” as well, leaving a job wide open for me to fill. I didn’t mind it, being Rachel’s assistant. I might have to do grunt work a lot of the time, but at least she helped instead of just dumping it all on me.

“Anyways, as I was saying, I’m pretty sure no one has gone through the donation bin this decade, if you want to make a dent in it.”

Sitting on my ass while I sort for the next two hours? “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I said, earning a chuckle from her as I stood up and left the front desk.

There were several boxes. She wasn’t kidding. This was going to take longer than I thought. Setting my phone off to the side, I pressed play on one of my safe-for-work playlists and started humming along to some Chappell Roan.

It had been a few days since the incident with the pale creature that had come onto my porch. There had been no repeat occurrences at our place, but someone had said something about seeing a sick-looking coyote at the edge of their yard. I hadn’t mentioned that to Nick, since I wasn’t even sure that it was the same thing that I had seen. 

And Nick was… I couldn’t burden him with any more problems. Between his time at the new tattoo place, townspeople coming to him for remedies to their ailments, and not being able to sleep very well, he was exhausted. I had woken up to him passed out on his couch this morning, Lydia loafing on his back. If I could make him sleep for an entire day, I would do it in a heartbeat.

I pulled the next box towards me and dug through the dusty contents. I was sure now that most of these donations were just from older ladies dumping the contents of their attics off on us just to free up some space. Several of these books so far were the same cookbook in different states of decay. 

I was just about to ask Rachel for a mask since I was tired of sneezing out dust when my hand pulled out a book that was different from all the others. A quick flip through revealed it was a journal. Either their handwriting was terrible or it was written in a different language, because I couldn’t make heads or tails of what it was saying. But some of the drawings in it intrigued me, so I set it in the Keep Pile, with the intention to ask Rachel what to do with it. If someone donated it without knowing, they might want it back.

By the end of my shift, my back and lungs didn’t appreciate what work I had gotten done. “Being in your thirties must be rough,” Rachel laughed as I tried popping my back several times. “Maybe you could get that cute boyfriend of yours to help you out later tonight.”

I felt a brief flush rise to the surface of my skin as I thought about Nick’s skilled fingers. “Quit it,” I mumbled, earning a cackle from her that would normally get someone in a library in trouble.

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the journal in my hands.

“Oh, I found it in one of the boxes. It looks like somebody might’ve accidentally put it in the donation box. Should we ask if they want it back?” I said.

Rachel shook her head. “Sorry buttercup,” she said, using her nickname for me. “Those were anonymous, and who knows how long ago it was donated. There’s no way we’d be able to trace it back to its owner. Unless it has historic value, we’re supposed to throw it out.”

Something in my face must’ve changed her mind. “Well, if you don’t want to, I could conveniently look the other way when you leave,” she said. 

I was about to say that no, that it was fine, that I didn’t need another written book in my house when Nick was still combing through Granny’s hex books, but the words caught in my throat and I thanked her instead. Maybe if I could find its owner, that would be one good deed I’d done for this town, since they were still wary of me several months after I had moved in.

The library closed at seven, but I didn’t get to go to my car until half an hour later. Late April still meant that it was dark out when I left work, but the building was in the middle of New Hope, the forest a ways off. I dashed to my car through the rain, the water from the puddles splashing up as my feet crashed down in them. 

My fingers were wrapped around the car’s door handle when  a cold rush of air blew through my denim jacket, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I froze as the door automatically unlocked, the sound as loud as a gunshot despite the sound of the rain. Something in the reflection of the car window caught my eye.

Someone was behind me.

I slowly turned around, trying not to startle it. Meanwhile, my mind was racing in confusion and fear. Nothing came out of the woods. The town was safe.

The boys couldn’t help me if something were to happen to me out here.

So what was the shadowy figure doing in the middle of a parking lot?

It didn’t move as I stared at it. It was almost formless; I could just make out the thin, vaguely humanoid shape of it. Even if I wanted to say something, my throat had closed shut. The chill of the night increased, the wind picking up and sending some bits of trash skittering across the asphalt. But it didn’t disturb the shadow. 

I opened my mouth to say… something? Shout at it to scare it away? But another voice startled me into screaming. I whipped around. 

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Taylor!” Rachel swore, hand on her heart. She was standing a few feet away under her umbrella. “What’re you still doing here? Are you okay?”

“Uhh… yeah. Just thought I saw something,” I said. I turned back around.

Other than us, the parking lot was empty.

The smell of food coming through a cracked window greeted me as I stepped onto the front porch. My knees felt weak at the thought of Nick cooking after the heart attack I had had. I took a moment to compose myself, exhaling as I turned the doorknob and stepped into our home.

It was indeed Nick cooking, as he stood in front of the stove. His long black hair was tied up in a bun, and he was wearing his thick-rimmed glasses. “Hiya,” he said, not even turning around. 

I dropped my backpack onto one of the chairs at the kitchen table, immediately walking over and hugging him from behind. “Woah, hey. Everything alright?” He asked. His hand moved down to cover both of mine.

I should tell him; I need to tell him. Instead, I nodded into the space between his shoulders. Even though a part of me knew that the creepiness of the town's legends were true, I still couldn't believe that something would come out of the woods and into the safeness of the streets.

So what I said instead was, “I missed you,” into his shirt. 

“Missed you more,” he said in return, despite seeing each other this morning. 

“What are you making?” I asked, peering over his shoulder. 

“Just some hamburger pasta. Thought it would be good for an easy night, since it's just the two of us until later tonight.”

“Really? Not even Folio?” I asked. 

Without looking up, Nick pointed over at the kitchen calendar with the spoon in his free hand. A little black circle was drawn on today's date and the next two days. The New Moons meant that Folio was stuck in his Grim form until the first sliver of the moon shined. Kind of like a werewolf but opposite. 

“It'll be done in a few. Go get comfortable and I'll put on a movie,” he said, his own way of shooing me out of the kitchen. As I parted with him, I saw that he hadn't done the same with Lydia, who was watching from the floor with her hungry eyes. 

As I changed into some lounge pants and an old sweater of Nick's, I tried to think of a way to bring up the encounter with the shadow person. There was no way that he wouldn't get upset about it, that was a fact. Maybe after we ate.

When I came back out into the front room, Nick had helped himself to making my plate and putting it on the coffee table. I sat down next to him, I pulled my plate onto my lap. He had pulled up Rise of Skywalker for us to watch.

“So who’s coming later?” I asked as he started the movie.

“Noah,” Nick mumbled. There was an undercurrent of something in his voice, so I guess Noah had transferred something to his mind that annoyed him. 

“That's fine,” I said, squeezing his thigh. 

After eating, I curled up into Nick, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “We should dress up as Kylo and Rey for Halloween again,” he said.

“Your hair’s getting too long for you to be Kylo,” I said, poking the side of his head.

“Yeah, because Rey is totally a blonde.”

“It was last minute!”

We kept up the light commentary for most of the film. I was fine up until the part when Rey sacrificed herself to kill the Emperor. As Ben Solo sacrificed himself to resurrect her, I threaded my fingers through his. A moment passed, and then Nick squeezed my hand. 

When the credits rolled, I tried to get up to take our dishes back to the kitchen sink. Nick pulled me back down. “And where do you think you’re going?” he asked, pulling me onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around me.

“Was gonna do the dishes, since you made dinner,” I said.

He pulled my head gently to rest on his shoulder. “Just stay here. With me,” he said, quietly. He would do this if he thought I was about to have one of my moments. 

He started playing with my hair, making my eyes flutter shut. “Okay,” I said. 

He kissed my forehead, but as he was pulling away, I reached up to cup his face and direct him further down. His lips brushed mine before pressing down once, soft and tender, but then he tried pulling away again. “Are you su–”

“Nick,” I pleaded, his name coming out in a rush. If he had any resolve before, it came crumbling down within milliseconds.

He was still a bit hesitant, flicking his tongue against my lips. But I wasn’t made of glass, so I pushed his chest until his back was pressed onto the couch cushions. I crawled up him until I was straddling his hips, my knees pressing into the sides of his waist. The kiss never broke.

It didn’t take long for him to harden beneath me, and I couldn’t help the small, satisfactory grin that rose to my lips. I ran my hand down his chest, down his stomach to the waistband of his shorts. When I finally parted with Nick, his hand shot up to curl around the back of my head. “Bun–”

“Can I touch you?” I asked.

“Oh, fuck yes. Please,” he pleaded.

I lifted myself a little bit, just enough to give me some room to slip my hand underneath the waistband of his boxer-briefs. The angle might’ve been a little bit awkward, but it didn’t really matter when I wrapped my fingers around the considerable size of him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, throwing his head back against the pillows. The movement caused him to bare the pretty tan skin over his throat, and I practically descended upon it. The minute I mouthed over his pulse point, his hips rolled up, rutting into my hand. On the upstroke I rubbed my thumb over the tip, and he made my favorite sound of–

Click.

We both froze, my hand down his pants. I quickly raised my head and our eyes locked on each other at the sound of the door unlocking. As the front door opened, I quickly rose up to stand on my knees. Noah stopped dead in his tracks, confusion written on his face. 

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said immediately, Nick echoing my words from below me.

Noah’s eyes roamed over me for a second, and his face hardened. “Please, continue. I don’t want to interrupt you guys making out in–”

Nick sat up, crawling out from underneath me. If he stood up, Noah could easily see that we were doing more than making out. “When we agreed on later, I mean late.” 

“It’s after eleven. I think that’s late enough,” Noah said, striding across the kitchen to the fridge, where he took out a beer. 

As Nick straightened himself, I caught the look on his face that said he was communicating with Noah through the bond that he had with everyone. Was there something agreed upon that didn’t require me knowing about? 

My thought was all but confirmed when Nick put his hand on my waist. “You wanna go to bed, Bun?” he asked, looking up at me with big green eyes. In this lighting, they were dark as the evergreens outside.

“No, I’m not tired,” I said. I fixed him with a look that said that I wasn’t going to be kept in the dark. Again.

He sighed. “Hang on, I gotta get the hex book,” he said, standing up. He then walked to the spare bedroom.

I looked over at Noah, who was leaning back against the fridge. He perked an eyebrow. “How was work?” he asked before taking a sip of his beer.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I was gonna tell him.”

“But you got distracted, didn’t you?”

“Fuck off, Bambi.”

“Oh, I’m about to do worse than that.”

I tilted my head. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Nick came back with a small, leatherbound notebook. He tossed it onto the kitchen table, as if it personally offended him. “We’ve been doing this all wrong,” he said. He practically collapsed into one of the chairs. 

“Doing what wrong? What is ‘this’?” I asked.

“There’s a reason why the Valley has been getting worse these past few years. More things showing up, resurfacing, growing bolder enough to where people can catch glimpses of them. Pale Things showing up shouldn’t be a surprise, really.” He was babbling, practically. But then he took in a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“Those sacrifices weren’t just for Vessels. They were also to keep the Woods from getting worse.”

Noah’s lips thinned. “I told you, I’m not killing any more innocent people.”

“Yeah, I know, and I think I found a way around that, but…” Nick trailed off. He then silently opened the hex book and flipped to a page he had marked. He then held it out towards me.

“Why me?” I asked.

“I’ve already seen it,” Noah said. 

I took the book and glanced at the pages. It wasn’t in any readable context: Granny wrote in some kind of “language” that had been passed down through her family as to keep their practice a secret from others. Nick had been slowly translating them over the past few months into his own notebooks.

“What is this?” I finally asked. 

“It's a… Fertility Ritual.” Nick swallowed thickly. “My ancestors would send someone into the forest so the Forest would be… sated.”

“A sacrifice. Like what happened with you guys.” I waved a hand over Noah. 

“No! Well… sort of,” Nick said. He bit his lip. 

“That was more the Black Stag's version. Though it wanted sacrifices so it could take a mortal form.” Noah folded his arms over his chest. “This is a… less bloody version.”

I skimmed over the page again, and it finally clicked. “When you say ‘fertility’, you mean… Noah's got to knock someone up?”

“No!” The two shouted at the same time. “God, fuck no,” Nick sighed. “But the baby making process is the main part.”

“He has to have sex with someone?” I asked incredulously. 

“Not just someone…” Nick lowered his voice to a mumble. “Someone with a… someone of the opposite sex.”

“Well how the fuck is he gonna do that?” I asked. “Everyone around here will recognize him, and then you got the antlers to deal with.”

The two were quiet suddenly. Nick put his head in his hands. “Bun…”

“What?”

“He's talking about you,” Noah put bluntly.

tysm for reading! If you enjoyed this, please reblog to share the word of the Revered Father. Next chapter coming soon.

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[sirdolraan]

Recovery

(( DWC November 2024 Day 7, Peculiar/Theory, CW: None; @daily-writing-challenge ))

"This is Tinker calling Sapper, come in Sapper!" the radio came to life as Drogar sat at his desk, reading the day's mail. With a smile, he lifted the receiver.

"This is Sapper, I read yeh Tinker! How are things in Dornagal?"

"Quiet for the moment, we're working on maintaining the peace and following up leads on the Harbinger. How's my boy?" she asked, her reason for the call now clear.

"Stroganoff is still recovering, spending his time in the lava flows. I am, in fact, starting to suspect he's pretending to still be sick so he can stay down there and eat all meh food!"

Lorellai's laughter echoed through the radio static. "I mean, it's not impossible, but I also know he'd want to be with meh if he was really healthy. He's smart enough to find portals if he feels a need."

"I'll take yeh at yer word for tha', lass. Speaking of, though, I'd feel better if I knew yeh 'ad a boon companion, should I send one of my robots through for yeh?"

"Dunnae worry about that, Sapper, I've managed to befriend a cinder bee, he's a little clumsy but he's responded well to training, the earthen here gave me really good advice!"

"A cinder-bee, eh? Send me some photos, that sounds like somethin' worth seeing!"

"Will do, Sapper, but I should probably get going. We're going to try and help the storm-riders recover their mounts, and the team will be leaving in just a half-hour."

"I won't keep yeh then, glad to hear from yeh Tinker, I love yeh!" he said, returning the reciever to its holder, and looking out the window at the Hornswog below in the magma flow, without a care in the world. He might not be on the front lines anymore, but he could at least take care of one incredibly hungry dragon frog, he supposed.

[pushspacetocontinue]

"I highly doubt that would stop him. From what I know, you just simply don't tell fae what to do," Leofric said, "But we shall see, won't we?"

"You were right. As I said, if I was proven wrong, I would put my hands up and admit it," Bill said, with a nod, "You did tell me, and I am glad you recognised me too. You were a bit out of it. Oh but he's not here. You don't have to worry about him."

"Then that balm should hopefully help," Leofric said, "It might be worth getting something to protect the lungs, given that Russell had breathed in some toxins."

"So you need to rest your body," Bill said, "I can always read you a nice bedtime story."

Antonio was a bit relieved to be able to see a bit more clearly. He made sure to take in the details of that description. A notepad was taken from his pocket and he started to write down what Russell said.

"Th-thank you," Russell said, "I uh, I was doing my best in those circumstances.

"I'm okay with that," Antonio said, although some concern crept into his face when he saw her properly, "Don't worry about it. You take as much time as you need. You've given me plenty to do."

And he had plenty of time and solitude for planning right now. But then he couldn't help but look at Bill as well, as the orb was presented to him. Bill sighed. He was going to have to do this in front of everything.

"Antonio, I am sorry for accusing you, and acting like a real bastard about it as well," Bill said, "You took it pretty well to be honest. So I also owe you some other way to make up for it, all right. You give it some thought while you're in there."

"I accept that," Antonio only said.

"All right, now that I've gotten that done," Bill said, "What I want to know is how you got out of there, Russell, and relatively unscathed at that, breathing in toxic crap aside."

"Well, I uh, I wouldn't wanna, uh... like, um, bore you?"

"I'm curious too," Antonio admitted, "And I highly doubt it would bore us."

"Well, um, okay... but you know, just stop me if, if it gets boring, all right?" Russell said then, "And, and some of the details are, are still a bit fuzzy at, at the moment, so, um, yeah."

"Don't worry about that," Leofric said, "Just let it come to you. You can go from there."

"He knows when it's illegal to get up." Rook replied, "Well, I was right, wasn't I? So first of all– I told ya. Second, I'm glad I recognized you because all I could think was how dad was going to get mad because I broke my bike."

It didn't make sense in retrospective, but she supposed it was another consequence of the shock.

"Well, it's better than nothing and I only need something to protect the spots my armor doesn't cover well." Rook replied weakly, sitting down, "I'm a night owl. My body just thinks my bones are still mush."

But now that she was sitting, it was a bit easier to reach into her pocket to retrieve the orb. It was probably a good idea to let Antonio hear the description too, as vague as it may be.

"It's definitely going to help." she reassured, "Between that and what Lucien could recall, we have a good idea of who to keep an eye out for. You did great, Russell. We might actually have an edge now."

She then raised the orb to address Antonio. "Sounds like you got a full schedule waiting... I just hope you don't mind waiting a little longer, my magic isn't responding well right now."

The reason as to why that was the case was perfectly visible on her face. But she still had the strength to hold the orb up in front of Bill.

"But Bill's got something to tell you in the meantime!"

[raylazuko]

Two all 2 people who follow my tumblr

GUYS THIS IS REALLY IMPORTANT

If you’re of voting age in the US and not registered, PLEASE REGISTER NOW!

I’m endorsing Kamala Harris for president.

The fact that’s it’s even close makes me sick to my stomach.

You can disagree with Harris or Biden or their administration on a lot of things, but not seeing that she is clearly the better option is scary.

Queer people’s lives depend on this.

If you care about us, PLEASE VOTE

If you are mad at Harris for not stopping the genoc1de, remember that Trump will absolutely not stop it either and that he’s a moron who no one respects. I’d rather have a g3nocide overseas and have queer people (and poor people, women, poc) in the US protected than have a g3nocide overseas and not have them protected.

And if you say “well Roe v Wade overturned and other conservative laws happened under Biden” Remember this was the CONSERVATIVE supreme court that did this. And another Trump term will make the court even worse for decades. The implications of this are huge.

People are on the fence, it’s simple. If you care about your queer, disabled, poc, poor, female loved ones VOTE HARRIS. If you’re centrist and won’t vote because you don’t care you’re a pushover and a coward. If you’re farther left and think she isn’t left enough, yes you have a point but this is all we have, PLEASE use your brain and stop being chronically online and self impressed.

I don’t care if I lose followers for this at this point, I’m just out here doing everything I can, not to panic and want to hide who I am. A lot of people don’t have the options to move to another state let alone country and we just want to live.

I’m lucky to live in a very safe state but I’m still terrified.

Please care about us. Please vote.

[deoidesign]

.

[purpurussy]

writer's block is debilitating atm. i want to write soooooooooo badly but im just sitting here staring at google docs with 0 neuron activation

[nostalgia-tblr]

What do English people call a close? You know, the stairwell bit where all the flats are in a tenement? If you go to visit someone at their flat, what do you call the bit where you wait for them to answer their door? That communal stairs… area?

("Modern AUs don't require research" MAYBE IF YOU'RE ENGLISH THEY DON'T 😭)

[edwinisms]

literally I have not written this much in the span of a couple weeks since like. mid high school. so around 7-8 years ago. what has this show done to me

[tanicus-caesareth]

guarana drama, damage control

[sskk-manifesto]

What a good episode. Maaaaaan