#could you imagine if i updated twice in as many months

[solvskrift]

hi hello I haven’t disappeared again I had family in town and now I have 🎵coviiiiiid🎶 but between naps I’ll hop on and try to answer some asks

[cleo-fox]

As the Clock Strikes Midnight - Part VIII

Series Masterlist Chapter Summary: In which you lie to yourself. Chapter Warnings: Sex, p in v sex, dirty talk, praise kink, wall sex, semi-public sex, library sex, unrealistic refractory periods. Tag List: I don’t have a tag list for this fic, sorry! The best way to hear about updates is to follow me on Tumblr or subscribe to the fic on AO3.

You don’t know what this is and you don’t know how to navigate it. 

Every night from dusk to midnight, you are in his bed. He makes you no promises and you don’t ask him to. You tell yourself that it’s meaningless, harmless, a bit of fun.

You ignore the fact that most sensible people would not define bedding a prince as a harmless bit of fun. Especially not when you’re a servant. Especially not when there’s so much that you could lose.

You ignore the fact that the longer it goes on, the more the meaningless parts start to feel substantive, the more it nudges at something in the center of your chest.

You ignore it all because if you don’t, if you stop and think very carefully about it, that’s when you will realize that you’ve wandered too far down a path that you ought not to have taken in the first place and by that point, it will be too late.

It is getting late and you are trying very hard to keep your eyes open. Your head is resting on Loki’s chest, your ear pressed against his heartbeat. His fingers have been trailing up your spine and into your hair and back down again. It’s soothing and it also gives you chills—a pleasant contradiction, much like Loki himself.

“I must leave tomorrow,” he says suddenly. “I have business on Midgard.”

“Oh,” you say. You’re not really sure how to feel about that. You’re not really sure whether you’re supposed to feel anything about that. Probably not. “How long do you expect to be away?”

He sighs. “Two months, at least. Likely more.”

“Long enough to cause trouble, I imagine,” you say lightly. There is an unexpected lump in your throat, but you’re doing your best to ignore it. There’s no reason there should be a lump in your throat; therefore it does not exist. You repeat this to yourself confidently, like saying it more than once will make it true.

“Well, naturally.” He rolls over, pulling you with him so that you are on your back and pinned beneath him. “I am the god of mischief, after all.”

“I suppose you are.” You recognize that look in his eyes. “And what mischief are you planning now, your highness?”

He hums and presses a kiss against your collarbone. “The usual sort.” He is growing hard against your belly. “I must have you at least once more before I depart on my journey.”

Despite all your complicated and confusing feelings, your body is warming to his touch, that all too familiar aching need stirring in your hips. “Only once?” you say as you open your legs to him.

“I said at least once. Try to pay attention, darling.”

In the end, he has you twice more, though the last one is quicker than you’d like, motivated by the lateness of the hour. He helps you dress and delays you once more at the door with a long and lingering kiss that you will find yourself returning to many times over the next several weeks.

“I really must go,” you murmur against his lips. “I’ll be missed if I’m away much longer.”

“Surely another minute won’t hurt,” he says, lowering his head to nuzzle the place where your neck and shoulder meet.

“I’m afraid you underestimate the power of very nosy kitchen maids.”

“Well, we can’t have that. I shall speak to Fritjof about the staffing.”

You know he’s joking, but there’s still a flicker of fear that runs through you at the sound of Fritjof’s name. “You wouldn’t,” you say, forcing your voice to sound light and unbothered.

He laughs quietly. “You’re right. I avoid speaking to that old bat whenever I can.”

You are used to hiding your true feelings about Fritjof. “He’s particular,” you say.

“He’s abhorrent,” says Loki. “If I were king, he would be the first I’d release from service.”

You can’t help but feel a little relieved by this statement. Sometimes it’s easy to feel like Fritjof’s unpleasantness is all in your head, or even just an overreaction.

You can’t say any of this, though, so you keep your expression neutral and polite. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“I’m sure you do,” he says, a hint of a laugh evident in his voice. “You’re simply accustomed to being well-mannered about it.”

“I certainly wouldn’t say so if I was.”

He laughs quietly and runs a fingertip along your cheek. “I suppose not.”

There’s a beat of silence and the lateness of the hour strikes you once again. “I really must go,” you say.

“I know.” He looks at you carefully before leaning in to kiss you. It’s soft and gentle, almost tender in a way that makes you want to indulge in silly daydreams.

But the kiss ends, though his hand remains cupped against your cheek as he rests his forehead against yours. “I’ll send for you when I return,” he says.

You want to believe him, but there’s a part of you that’s afraid that this might be the end of your extraordinary little dalliance. Surely his attention will wander elsewhere once he returns. You hastily dismiss the thought and force what you hope is a believable smile.

“Safe travels, highness.”

You’re surprised by how immediately you feel Loki’s absence. 

It’s not just the sex, though you certainly miss that. You miss his company, his dry and sarcastic remarks, the way that his eyes light up when you say something sharp or clever. His smile, his quiet huff of laughter against your shoulder, the way his long fingers curl around yours. The way he listens, the way his brow furrows when he’s deep in thought.

You try very hard not to think about what any of that might mean.

You resume your clandestine trips to the library, but you find it’s hard not to think of Loki in a space that you associate so closely with him: here is a book that you know he likes, there is the chair he prefers. The memory of his kiss burns on your lips, the ghost of his touch seared into your skin like a tattoo.

Deep down, you know what this means, though you won’t admit it just yet. Not even to yourself.

The first few days are difficult, but after a few stumbling missteps, you slowly find your way back into the rhythm you found back before Loki upended your days.

You’re soon reminded, though, that these forbidden trips are not without their risks.

It’s only blind luck that saves you. You are coming back from the library, cutting across the dining hall to save time when you notice the lace on your boot has come undone. You bend down to tie it and it’s only then in the sudden silence that you hear footsteps approaching.

You draw back quickly into the shadows, pressing yourself flat against one of the large stone columns. From this vantage point, you can just see the doorway at the far end of the room.

A figure appears and your heart nearly flies out of your chest.

There in the flickering torchlight is Fritjof. 

You hold your breath as he crosses the room. It might be your imagination, but you would swear he looks more sinister in this light, with his beady eyes and the torchlight casting gloomy shadows across his face.

He’s a little past your column when he pauses, the sharp flare of his nostrils the only sign of life in his eerily still frame. Your heart is pounding so hard that you worry it might somehow give you away, impossible as it seems. He doesn’t know about the library, you tell yourself, willing it to be true. He doesn’t know I’m here.

His gaze sweeps over the room, his eyes squinting against the torchlight. The permanent line between his eyebrows deepens, almost as if he knows something is not quite right.

But finally, after a long moment, he seems to think better of it and continues on his way, footsteps echoing ominously in the large room.

You only let out your held breath when he leaves. You wait until his footsteps fade and then you make yourself count to one hundred before you tiptoe your way back to your room, your heart pounding the whole way.

If you were sensible, you would give up going to the library. You know that.

But with Loki gone, it’s the only thing you have to look forward to, and for that reason, you can’t quite convince yourself to give it up, though you do start taking a different route back.

And agonizingly slowly, those first four weeks pass.

On the first night of the fifth week, it occurs to you that you’re a little over halfway through. Assuming, of course, that it’s only two months and not longer like he thought it could be.

Assuming, of course, that he still wants you when he returns.

You decide that you’re not going to think about either possibility or the little blip of melancholy that creates strange tightness in your chest. It’s nothing. Nothing at all.

On the third night of the fifth week, you hear footsteps in the stacks.

It must be Fritjof.

You try not to panic as you set the book carefully on the shelf, listening intently. There was always part of you that knew that this was too risky to continue, that being discovered was always the inevitable conclusion. He’d nearly caught you once already, why didn’t you think this time would be different?

A voice comes from behind you. “And what business does a kitchen maid have in the palace library?”

There’s about a half second of terror before you realize that the voice is not Fritjof’s. 

It’s Loki’s.

Before you can turn around, strong arms are wrapping around your waist from behind, a broad chest pressing against your back. You relax almost instantly, your fear turning to something that you will later recognize as joy.

“You’re shaking,” he says, pressing a kiss against your neck.

“You frightened me half to death,” you say, your heart beating wildly, half from joy and half from fear. “I thought you were Fritjof.”

“Such grievous attacks on my character already?” he tuts against your neck, though you can feel him smiling. “Any sensible man would be offended by such a comparison.”

“He nearly caught me last week. And you’re much earlier than you said—I didn’t think to expect you.”

He presses a soft kiss against your neck. “Are you disappointed?”

“That depends on how churlish you intend to be,” you say.

He laughs and it only makes you ache for him. He turns you around and before you can get a proper look at him, he’s pulling you flush against him and kissing you deeply.

The restless, yearning ache that you’ve felt in your soul since he left finally stills when his lips touch yours. Kissing Loki feels like coming home—it feels so perfect, so right that it would scare you a little bit if there were room in your heart for any feeling other than joy.

It’s a minute or so later when he finally draws back just a little—only enough to speak. “Did you miss me?” he breathes against your lips.

Happy as you are, your first instinct is to deflect. You can’t be vulnerable. Not yet. “I would ask the same of you,” you say.

Instead of answering you directly, he presses his hips against yours so you can feel the hard length of him already straining at the confines of his trousers. You suck in a breath through your teeth.

“Now give me a proper answer,” he says, his voice dipping into a slight growl that awakens that familiar, aching heat low in your hips.

A shiver snakes up your spine. “Yes,” you say. “Very much.”

His eyes flash and suddenly he’s pressing you back against the shelf and kissing you deeply. Desperately. You arch against him as his hands palm your breasts before dropping to your hips to pull you closer still, close enough that you can’t help but feel the hard press of his cock against you.

He pulls away abruptly, grabbing you by the wrist and leading you deeper into the stacks.

“Where are we going?” There’s a breathy quality to your voice that you hope doesn’t reveal too much.

“You’ll see.”

His destination is a dark, secluded corner near a collection of atlases. Before you can ask more questions, he’s pressing you up against a wall and you realize with a thrill that he intends to have you right here in the library.

“We could be seen,” you say as he hitches up your skirts and hooks your leg up around his waist. But your voice lacks conviction and you can both hear it.

“It’s late and no one ever comes back here.” His hand slips between your thighs, pushing your undergarments aside. “And I need you now.”

It’s a thrilling admission made all the more compelling by his long fingers stroking your slick folds and circling your clit.

“Oh, you did miss me,” he breathes as he slides a finger inside of you. “My poor little kitchen maid, so slick and unsatisfied.”

You are aching and a whimper catches in the back of your throat as he presses the heel of his hand against your clit. You grab his shoulders as a second finger joins the first. “Please, I need—”

“What do you need?” he purrs as he curls his fingers. “Do you need to come before I fuck you into this wall?”

You nod, panting. “Please.”

He chuckles darkly. “Darling, you know that’s not good enough.”

Your clit is throbbing as you tense around his fingers. You’re so close and his time away has left you needy and desperate. “Make me come, Loki. Please.”

His grin is wicked. “Good girl.”

His eyes take on a particular kind of focus that you only ever see when he’s got you hot and bothered and chasing an orgasm. His fingers are fucking into you with a slow precision, the heel of his palm grinding against your throbbing clit, nudging you closer.

“You’re so close,” he says, looking at you hungrily. “I love it when you’re like this, all wild and wanton.” He licks his lips. “You’re going to have to be quiet, though. Can you do that, darling?”

You manage a nod, but barely. The leg that’s not hooked around his waist is trembling.

“I’ve got you, sweet,” he murmurs, his arm firmly squeezing your waist. “Let go. Come for me.”

Your breath is coming in quick, shallow bursts. The instruction to be quiet seemed doable at first, but the feeling that’s cresting inside of you is so much bigger and stronger than you thought. You’re not going to be able to keep quiet.

“Loki,” you gasp in the last few seconds. “I can’t—”

Somehow, he understands your meaning because he covers your mouth with his, muffling your cries as you come hard, your fingernails digging into his back as you shake so hard your leg threatens to give out.

He doesn’t stop kissing you until the last shudder pulses through you.

“Oh, that’s lovely,” he says reverently. “Just lovely.”

“Please—”

You don’t have to say any more. He fumbles with the fastenings on his trousers and frees his cock. There’s no teasing, no delay as he positions himself at your entrance—he wants you too badly to play his usual games, his desire heightened by your weeks apart. He slides into you easily, lifting you fully off the floor as he sheathes himself in you. You whimper and he sighs, mumbling a string of curses under his breath.

“Norns, I missed this,” he murmurs, leaning back in to kiss you.

If you’d planned things properly, you would be back in his room or somewhere private where you could be as loud as you needed to be. This reunion has awoken something primal and hungry in both of you and staying quiet is a struggle. His hips take up a quick pace, driving into you with a speed and force that speaks to the profound need that had brought you to the corner of the library in the first place. He quickly finds the angle that makes you see stars and soon enough, you’re trembling around him.

“You take my cock so well, darling,” he mumbles against your throat, teeth scraping against the tender skin. “So good for me, so tight.”

“I’m so close—”

“I know, lovely, I can feel you.” He presses his forehead against yours, emerald eyes intent. “Come with me,” he grits out.

You keep your eyes locked with his until the force of your orgasm tips your head back against the wall, your eyes fluttering shut as you clench around his cock. He is close behind, gasping out your name as he buries his face in your neck.

It’s a good minute or so before he withdraws, and he seems reluctant to do so. There is something decadent and scandalous about his spend dripping down the inside of your thigh, but you decide you rather like the feeling. It makes you feel like his in a very raw and primal way.

You try not to think about the fact that you have any desire to be his.

He takes your hands in his and a green light spreads over the two of you. When it dissipates, you find yourself in his chambers, in front of his bed.

“You couldn’t have done that earlier?” you ask.

“It requires some concentration and my mind was singularly occupied,” he says. “I can’t imagine that you would have been very pleased had we arrived in separate places.”

He is right, but you don't want to say as much.

“I’d thought that your skill with magic was too great for such silly mistakes,” you say instead.

“I see my absence has not blunted your tongue.”

You smirk. “I hope you didn’t expect it to. I could not bear for you to be disappointed.”

He chuckles. “Not at all.”

He kisses you again and it’s slow and intimate in a way you don’t expect, in a way that warms you from the inside out.

“I’ve quite forgotten what you look like in my bed,” he murmurs against your lips.

“I suppose I could remind you,” you say.

He kisses you once more. “Turn around.”

He undoes the buttons on the back of your dress with achingly slow precision, pressing soft kisses against the back of your neck and all along your shoulders and spine. Your dress and then your shift and undergarments fall to the floor until you are bare before him.

His fingertips lightly trail along your rib cage and under the curve of your breasts. You suck in a shaky breath. You’ve just had him, but you’re already aching for him again.

His thumbs brush against your nipples and a soft moan falls from your lips.

“You can’t possibly need me again so soon,” he says, but you can tell from the rasp in his voice that this is not one-sided in the slightest. “You’re still dripping with my seed.”

You arch your back so that your ass presses against the growing bulge in his trousers. “You speak as though I am the only one with such a need.”

He hums, pressing back against you. “Perhaps you’re not.”

You look over your shoulder. “Well, your highness?”

He laughs low in his throat, one hand sliding between your legs, gently circling your still sensitive clit. “And here I thought you would be too sated for such boldness.”

“Perhaps you’ll have to try harder this time.”

You’re immediately gratified by the feeling of his bare skin at your back and you barely suppress a shiver. Typically if he resorts to magic to remove his clothes, it ends quite enjoyably for you.

“Perhaps I’ll fuck the boldness right out of you,” he says, his voice growing dark in a way that makes the muscles of your cunt ache in anticipation. You bend at the waist, bracing your hands against the edge of the bed to support yourself as he drags his cock along your dripping folds. “You speak sharply now, but we both know that you turn into a whimpering mess the moment you have my cock in your tight and greedy cunt.”

Quite suddenly, he’s at your entrance and pressing into you, his passage eased by the heady combination of your slickness and his come from earlier. Your back arches and you push up on your tiptoes, trying to take him deeper.

You can’t quite help the sigh that escapes your lips, even though it causes him to chuckle because it proves his point. His fingers massage your clit and you shudder, letting out a soft moan.

“Oh, you’ll have to do better than that, darling,” he says. “It’s been weeks since I last heard you scream for me.”

You cast a glance over your shoulder. “Like I said, highness: you’ll just have to try harder.”

His eyes darken in a way that makes you shiver. “You’ve grown bolder in my absence, love.”

You smirk. “Then teach me a lesson.”

Your intention is to goad him into fucking you hard enough to make the ache of these last few weeks disappear. His wide, feral grin makes you think you might have succeeded.

“Well, darling,” he purrs, his hips snapping hard against you in a way that makes your toes curl, “if you insist.”

He slips easily into a brisk pace, his fingers rubbing languorously at your clit. The contrast between the two is enough to make you moan in a way that’s so so wanton it’s almost embarrassing. 

“Yes, I want to hear all of your lovely noises,” he purrs. “Let me hear how much you missed me.”

His slow pace on your clit is still at odds with the way he’s fucking you and it’s driving you absolutely wild. You’re only getting the added stimulation on every other thrust and while it feels good, it’s not helping you get any closer to coming.

You tolerate it for as long as you can stand, but eventually you can’t help but moan. “Please, Loki.”

“Please what, my love?” he asks and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“More.”

He knows your body well enough at this point that he doesn’t have to ask what you mean—he simply begins massaging your clit in time with the thrust of his cock, making you keen.

“Like that?”

You can only moan in assent and he lets out a low chuckle as he continues with his new pace.

This is what you really needed, you think. His large hand firm on your hips, fingers on your clit, his movements just a little rough, his skin slapping against yours as he drives into you with hard and steady thrusts. You can feel the edge starting to approach, all of your muscles tingling and tensing in anticipation of your release. 

He knows your body well—too well, perhaps—and he recognizes how your muscles tighten and twitch around his cock right before you come undone.

And he stops, withdrawing from you completely. “Not yet,” he says.

The whine you let out is perhaps the most pathetic noise you’ve ever made in your life. “Loki, please.”

He turns you around, silencing your protests with a slow, deep kiss. “I need you closer,” he mumbles against your lips.

You let him guide you down onto the bed. While you like it when he takes you from behind, there’s an intimacy to having him on top of you. You can catalog his expressions, count the flecks of gold in his green eyes. You feel simultaneously as though you are perched on a cliff of great height and peering down, but also warm and safe.

It’s a feeling that you probably ought to interrogate; instead you push it from your mind.

He kisses you as he eases back into you and you wrap your legs around his waist, urging him closer.

He’s slow and gentle with you. You thought you wanted fast and rough, but this…this is an unexpected perfection. You can feel every inch of him stretching and stroking the velvety inner walls of your cunt and every movement is somehow better than the last.

The buildup is slow and unhurried, the opposite of the library, the opposite of how he’d been driving into you mere moments before. He looks deep into your eyes, interrupted only when your lashes or his flutter shut against the rising tides within you both. It’s stirring something in your heart and you find yourself wanting to tell him that you missed this, you missed him, but the words stick in your throat and you suppose that’s probably for the best because these sort of things shouldn’t be spoken aloud when you are a servant who is bedding a prince in secret.

You shouldn’t be thinking about this. Not now. Probably not ever. Instead, you draw your focus to the coil that is slowly winding in the pit of your stomach and roll your hips up to meet his slow thrusts. You pull him down to kiss you, hoping that his focus on taking you to your peak eclipses the fact that there’s far too much feeling in your kiss.

And moments later, your toes curl one last time and you cry out as you completely unravel. He groans deeply and gives two more sharp thrusts before he succumbs to his own bliss.

He gradually slows to a halt, dropping his head to your chest as he catches his breath. You close your eyes, relishing the feel of him on top of you, still pressed inside you, the feel of his sheets on your back. You missed this. You missed him. You—

You shouldn’t continue that thought. You shouldn’t admit to that feeling, even to yourself. It’s stupid. It’s dangerous.

Don’t say it. Don’t think it.

Loki gives a satisfied sigh, breaking you out of your thoughts. “The next time I say I need to be away for weeks at a time, tell me I’m a fool,” he mumbles.

“I’ll tell you you’re a fool regardless of your travel plans,” you say.

His laughter rumbling against your bare skin might be one of the best sounds in the world. “I would expect no less.”

He eases out of you, vanishing the mess and quickly pulling you to his side. You rest your head against his shoulder and wrap your arms around his chest, draping your leg across his stomach for good measure.

“Did it go well?” you say after a moment of quiet. “Your business on Midgard, I mean.”

He sighs. “It was tedious. I’d rather have stayed here.”

You wonder if he means here on Asgard or here in bed with you. You’re not foolish enough to ask, though you are foolish enough to hope.

“I think it sounds exciting,” you say. “I’ve never left Asgard.”

“I’ll take you, someday.”

The promise in those words—and their sheer impossibility—raises a lump in your throat. “I rather think that would be frowned upon,” you say lightly.

“All the more reason for it.” He strokes a hand along your thigh. “And how did you occupy yourself without my stimulating company?”

“Oh, nothing terribly exciting,” you say. “I started reading in the library again.”

“I suppose I have been monopolizing your evenings,” he says, fingers tickling your thigh. “Though I don’t understand why you don’t simply take a book to your quarters.”

You swat at his hand. “You know that’s not permitted.”

He catches your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “Neither is this, technically.”

“Yes, well.” You clear your throat. “I’d rather not give anyone more reasons to look more closely at my evening activities for that reason.”

“Am I to understand that you prefer my bed to the finest Asgardian literature?”

“That may be your understanding, but that’s not what I said.”

“Well.” He presses a kiss against the top of your head. “I suppose I’ll have to make my bed more tempting, then.”

It’s the sort of offhand comment you write off as a silly flirtation—he doesn’t mean anything by it, surely. It’s entirely forgettable.

Except…the next night, there’s a stack of books for you beside his bed.

“What’s this?” you say, trying to ignore the lump in your throat.

“I told you I intended to make my bed more tempting,” he says.

His eyes are glittering with mischief, but the gesture itself is achingly sweet, one that plucks at your heartstrings and reminds you of all the feelings that you’re pretending you’re not having. He had retrieved the book you’d been reading last night, along with titles by authors you mentioned liking back in the garden so many weeks ago. 

That night, he makes you read aloud from a book of love poems while he buries his face between your thighs, his tongue moving in iambs and dactyls on your clit until you come with poetry and his name on your lips. In the afterglow, you curl up next to him and read while he does the same, until you need each other again. It’s a new part of your routine, one that you’ll repeat many times in the coming days.

It’s there in the hazy paradise between prose and the bliss of his touch that a small, secret voice inside of you begins to admit that as much as you say it’s a harmless bit of fun, the situation has spiraled out of control in the worst possible way:

You’ve fallen in love with him. And you know it’s only a matter of time before he breaks your heart.

Next chapter coming soon

[multiheadcanons]

I SIMPLY AM NOT DONE WITH THEM! THE BLU TEAM AND LOVE.

scout: ultra mega cringelord loser. he is literally bragging about you to anyone who will listen. teammates while they’re taking enemy fire, the enemy team while he is actively shooting them, pauling when she calls for an update on a solo mission; hell, he’ll call hale’s secretary and gab all day if he can. everyone is wondering where he is finding the time between jerking his own ego off and dying on the field. there comes a point they genuinely just don’t think you exist. there is no way this dweeb had enough social wits for anyone to be willing to tolerate him for an extended period of time. objectively the safest merc to be in a relationship with, because he has convinced everyone by being so extremely overbearing, and oversharing literally every detail of your life to them, that if they wanted to they could verify your existence in seconds. but they just don’t believe him. they’re not even willing to give him the respect to see if he’s telling the truth. loves going on dates! thoroughly enjoys a roller rink date, a drive in theatre date, a walk in the park, he’ll do any and everything with you! and then turn around and tell the team exactly what you did, exactly what you said, and your exact stance on every single one of them. they are going to implode if they ever find out you’re real.

soldier: jane doe is honestly… such a cool guy when he’s in love and loved by others. casual is finally a mode he can enter. it’s like a secret unlockable where he takes off his helmet and goes from soldier to jane doe. he’s quite funny! shockingly, a solid contender for the most Normal partner of the bunch. you get a date and he gets handsome for you twice a month or so, small gifts, usually bullet, battle, or america themed. likes bringing you the enemy scout’s dog tags. it’s more like his own little counter for how often he can get that scrawny twat every time he adds to it. always, always gets you flowers. he doesn’t arrange them, but he can get his spy to with a nice enough tone, and maybe some money. likes to take you to the lake. he’s not particularly needy as long as you seem satisfied. every once in a while he might ask you to join him on an odds and ends mission, but you have to stay in the car. he doesn’t know what he’d do to himself if something happened to you. but he likes to have you around! it’s almost like a test. the job is a big part of his life, so he needs someone who can handle it.

pyro: every day that pyro can wake up and look themselves in the mirror and say they are loved and then someone can immediately back that up with “that’s true, because i love you” is a day pyro will shed many, many tears. pyro did not ever think there could possibly be a day they could look at the mirror and say they are loved and actually mean it. actually be telling the truth. they were enough to be loved. they are enough to be loved. by someone other than themselves. they hug you tightly. they never leave your side. they genuinely couldn’t imagine it. they would cut their own arms off before they refused to hold you. they would cut their own legs off before it meant they couldn’t come to you when you call for them. and they are just so thankful. thankful for the opportunity, thankful for your company, thankful to be alive and breathing air in the same general location as you. every step was worth it. every ache was worth it. every bitter day and lonely night was worth these precious moments.

demo: he’s so certain this is closest he will ever get to feeling complete. he doesn’t feel an urge to drink as much, and for a while he is… a less than stellar man. and he will resent himself for the fact he didn’t do this before he met you until he is dead and buried in the ground. he may disappear for a while on a path to… less frequent states of drunk. and when he gets where he wants to be for you, he comes back the same, yet different. dedicated, and domesticated. still humorous, still intense, still wildly entertaining to engage in a lengthy conversation with and still a terrible person to involve in an already bad plan. but he has long term plans for what feels like the first time… ever. he feels like he’s got a reason to be something greater than great. instead of feeling like he’s in a rat race. there’s a point to the money. there’s a point to the fight. and the most important part, there’s a reason to stop this war.

heavy: he is in an almost constant panic. you might as well not exist to him in public. and it does you best to do him the same. the less you interact where people can see, the better it is, because when you’re alone… he’s sickeningly sweet. he won’t leave you be. he will eat what you leave, he will watch what you watch, do what you want to do, tend to you, care for you, proclaim his unfettered devotion… inside the house. and ignore you in public. there is a gnawing fear mikhail has, that he can’t place the origin of, that at any moment he will lose everything he’s ever cared for. and he’s okay if all he loses is guns, and objectives, and money, and himself. regularly. but the idea of losing others can send him into a spiral. and he gets so mad because it only takes a second. a moment of weakness, one instance of him dropping the ball and he will turn around and everything he cares for is gone. he is cruelly reminded on a daily basis. it costs him his teammates’ lives. and he chooses to not care about them, because otherwise he would quit this job. he understands the wall he is to the people who dare risk relying on him. he cannot handle any more responsibility than he has already taken. but for the right person… he just wouldn’t be able to help himself. the social control he exercises becomes a fountain to you. take from it when you need. use who you must. he will be there to ensure your success.

engineer: are you ready to meet the man with the biggest dick energy. he just exudes cool calm collection. it is like every question he ever had is answered. he knows the world is good because you are in it. he knows he is good because he is loved. because you love him. and he knows he is good because he loves you, too. he is not a fool in love. he takes his responsibilities as your partner seriously. you will never want for anything. you will never need anything. and he just blossoms. confident, motivated, inspired, some could even call him cocky. but he’s not cocky. he’s just loved. and he’s a man in love. a provider and a friend. a shoulder to cry on. and much more vulnerable. actually willing to talk about why he has the views he does. conversations are much more common. and he likes to show you off. anything he can find to brag about you, he will. it really does annoy the rest of the team. they didn’t realize there was a time they would miss the silence the man provided. but confident dell takes that confidence everywhere. and that includes the battlefield. gets downright stupid out there sometimes. he feels like a teenager again.

medic: love hits the doctor like a goose hits an airplane engine: faster than he can mentally register. it is an epiphany in the middle of the night, it is consuming him, it is a bad idea, and it will kill him before he can let it go. he can’t let it go. he finds himself too… light. too “happy���. too considerate. none of these things ever come across to you. he really doesn’t seem to change unless you know him. his syntax changes. he picks positively coded synonyms when he would otherwise use a neutral or negative leaning term. he’s a little more open to taking a break, or setting things off. his face softens, he relaxes. he feels good, and it doesn’t take work to get there. he just feels… okay. and everything is okay. hesitantly touchy. he social distances himself away from you, and over the course of ten or so minutes eventually you’ll feel the shuffle of fabric as he has crept his way to your side. then you feel the weight of his head on you. he will not move from there. tight hand holder, chronic sleeper. don’t ask this man to watch a movie with you; that’s asking him to take a nap. face buried in your neck, or your chest, or your lap. when he’s bold, he’s a hard biter. he loves to make you screech. it’s funny to him when you try to push him off, but he’s quick to retreat. you’re just fascinating to him.

sniper: ohhhhohoho, he likes you! this is also when you realize snipes is… kind of a loser. he gets a little big for his britches. starts calling you his “main thing” when you’re his only thing past work. makes crude, awkward, and sometimes incredibly funny jokes. but usually you’re now getting what are his absolute worst jokes. he’s testing them. seeing which ones land. big, dopey smiles under the hat. plays unnecessarily cool in public. yeah, you’re his partner. his mate, even. get it? he’s nudging your shoulder as he says this, by the way. he cannot play cool long because he is an absolute nitwit. and he gets one look at you and he can’t help the grin spreading across his face. he’s almost waiting for the rug to be pulled from underneath him. he’s waiting for you to leave. he’s pretty confident you won’t though. he thoroughly stresses himself about your death, and when it will occur. it’s like a quarterly occurrence, on a bad day in battle, that he will come to you, and he’ll almost be mean. and if you call him out on it, eventually he will break down on you. tell you about what he does for a job. and he can’t stop thinking about it. if something happens to you, you won’t come back. he doesn’t even know how long he will keep coming back. there’s a real chance he just doesn’t, because he doesn’t know. is he even himself when he comes back? when he gets it all out, he feels a little better. he holds you tighter. he really doesn’t want to let you go.

spy: stupid, desperate, hopeless romantic. and a chronic homemaker. if a beautiful wealthy older person approached him and said he’d never have to work a day in his life and he’s at the top of the will nobody would ever see this man again. all he wants to do is cook, clean, and care for a kid or two. or four. or none! what matters is if you give this man the option he is more than happy to let you be the breadwinner. he will still dress to the nines. breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks, bath drawn when you’re off work. you don’t even realize you have laundry half the time because spy gets it done. and when he deems his work done, he will join you shortly. you will never have to lift a finger to do anything more than get your ass up and go to work. the home will never be a responsibility you have to worry about. he is screaming to the night sky for someone to turn him into a trophy husband. he’ll feed the animals. walk the dog. clean the toilet with his personal toothbrush. please god someone come get him so he can quit this job.

[alwritey-aphrodite]

cozy sweaters with jamie tart PLS!!!! <3 ur amazing

2024 Fall Blurbs

As much as you love Jamie, you’re of the opinion that his fashion taste could use a little work. You know that he puts time and care into buying pieces and putting together outfits, and you love that he knows the styles he feels best in, but there are only so many expensive matching sweat sets and tracksuits you can look at in your closet before going insane. He knows how to clean up well, has an extensive repertoire of date night outfits and clothes for events, as well as more casual outfits, but you wouldn’t be upset if all of his puffer vests magically disappeared.

“I got you a present,” you say as you enter the kitchen, throwing your shopping bags onto the table before turning to Jamie with a grin. “Ok, it’s really a present for me, but the physical object is for you.” You’d been doing some window shopping, with the desire to find a few pieces to spice up and update your cold weather wardrobe, when you’d stumbled into a shop you’ve never heard of, drawn in by the colorful knitwear in the window.

The whole store was full of sweaters and vests and scarves and hats, any sort of knit object you could imagine, in an array of decadent, rich colors and yarn so soft it seemed obscene. You could have spent hours in there, inspecting every single piece twice over, when you managed to find the most beautiful sweater imaginable. It’s a rich, deep green, perfect for the fall and winter months, and while you’d expected it to be at least a little scratchy, slipping it over your head was like entering a cloud. You’d barely looked at yourself in the mirror for a second before you made up your mind about purchasing it, certain you’d regret your decision forever if you left the store empty-handed.

As you made your way to the register, you passed by the men’s section, and you were so excited you could have squealed when you saw the same sweater you were currently holding, only this time in Jamie’s size. It was as if your hands were moving on their own accord as you snatched up the second sweater and marched towards the checkout, coming to outside the shop with two new sweaters, one for you and one for Jamie.

“Just try it on, ok? And keep an open mind?” You ask as you hand Jamie the shopping bag with his sweater, your matching one tucked in with the rest of your purchases. You can tell that you’re freaking him out a little, and that any normal item of clothing wouldn’t come with so many caveats, but he leaves the kitchen all the same, giving you just enough time to throw on your own sweater before he reemerges.

It takes him a few seconds, staring at you as your grin threatens to split your face, but then he’s laughing, doubling over with the force of it.

“Babe, this is ridiculous,” he says once he can breathe again, crossing the kitchen to wrap you in his arms.

“I know, that’s why I bought them,” you explain, rewarded for your joy with a kiss to your forehead.

“We’ll have to wear these tomorrow, when we go out for dinner,” he proposes, resisting the urge to laugh again.

“It’s like you read my mind.”

[jklpopcorn]

*crawls out of the in stars and time timeloop, visibly disheveled and exhausted after spending 33 hours playing + Another 2 hours mass reblogging with friend* WE MADE IT TO THE END, OH LORD, WHO SAID THAT THE GAME WAS ONLY 21 HOURS LONG

Hiii! This is an update on my last ask pertaining to finishing Start Again and starting ISAT. It tooked another session to completed SAAPAand then over ten 3 hour sessions over the course of a month to beat but we did it!

Thank you for bring this game on my dashboard! Truly, one of the games of all time

Some highlights of those 33 hours of stars and timing.

Both of us just STARING at isat Siffrin during acts 1 and 2 because holy shit, they're so joyous and filled with whimsy and the timeloop horrors hasn't hit them yet. <--- used to saapfrin's depression

The two of us experiencing the dawning horror that is all the callbacks to Start Again in act 3+4

LOOP HANGOUT IMPLICATIONS THAT SIFFRIN HELD THE PARTY BACK BC THE PARTY WAS ABLE TO MAKE TO THE KING ON THIER OWN DESPITE HOW THERES SO MANY POTENTIAL SOFTLOCKS

I (person who knew that saapfrin is loop since the beginning and that loop is a Siffrin) had to desperately gaslight the streamer friend when they randomly joked that there could be multiple Siffrins across different timelines in act 2 (they didnt remember saying that when we were chatting at the end credits)

Destroying Odile's old women kidneys via making her drink 8+ bowls of salty broth whenever we fought the king

Yelling HOW ARE YOU STILL STANDING??? When odile froze Siffrin in time at the 5th act finale like Ma'am using timecraft even for a second is said to cause the user to turn to dust?? And you're like 80

Heartbreaks during the 'Odile stands in front of the party after Siffrin disposing of sadness too excitedly" '"We cannot trust Siffrin" clocktower act 5' and 'Odile uses papercraft against big Siffrin' because she's the oldest and logical one and she must protect everyone/make sure everyone is prepared to fight the king even if her actions seem too extreme

Got a beautiful moment at the secret loop bossfight when the streamer friend learned loop is a siffrin and I no longer had duct tape over my mouth and could finally tell them that loop is our saapfrin (been talking about what happened to saapfrin in general during the playthrough)

SBXUXBUDHXUDHCUCCU I am SO glad you enjoyed the game :DDDDD

I also thought the game would normally take 21 hours but I was prepared for it to take longer since I love to investigate more 😭😭 yeah it did take longer, 41 hours in 4 days to be more precise, twice as long 😭😭 loved every second of it 😭😭

I can imagine seeing act 1 and 2 siffrin would be such a whiplash! When I learned that sasasap may contain spoilers and reused scenes i went straight to isat so I first got used to the whimsy of the act 1 and 2 siffrin and then saw the slow descent into the poor meow meow in act 4 😭 i was actually surpised when i played sasasap that the little guy skipped all of that and is lowkey worse off than isat siffrin 😭 Loop truly did make a difference when it comes to sif's sanity (and like... actually helping him get out of the loop too ^^)

I was actually surprised they went into an actual breakdown in act 4 and 5. Didn't expect the creator to explore how a person would feel after dying and looping a hundred or so times! I was fully expecting for sif to go "well that happened :)" with no consequences like some games/movies like to do... But within the first 5 minutes of playing I could bet that the creator was a tumblr user so I had hope that our little fella could go a little feral later on <3 i was not disappointed <3 (but honestly, the game reeks of tumblr at times /pos /pos /pos <3)

I suppose that without Sif during the Loop hangout the party got both super lucky and searched even more thoroughly for keys and such since their main guy was out! Not that it really helped them in the end...

I guess it's just canon that that old woman's immortal. Speed and running are her only weaknesses 😔 and mommy issues 😔

Also her truly wanting the best for the party and also taking the least shit from siffrin the moment they could be a danger to her family 😭 violence is not always the answer odile you saw what happened to siffrin 😭

Loop..... nooooo......

[not-poignant]

hi pia i just wanted to respond to what you said in your tags about the burnout w chronic illness. and i dont mean to condescend or blame but i think your burnout came about because you are an absolute beast of a writer!!!!! the amount of words you were pushing out consistently had me wondering what kind of spell you must’ve been on. (in a good way, except it turned out to be harming you) you worked really really hard for a long time, i think harder than many healthy people even (my chronic illness could never). i know you also enjoyed writing (we enjoyed it too!), but that workload honestly never looked sustainable. the astounding part is not that you burned out, but that you managed to push for so long, despite your handicaps and hardships. want to be careful not to sound like im praising/blaming you. but you’re really just build different than a lot of folks. i hope you had time to recharge so far and keep taking it easy. i do miss your updates but i can assure you im fine waiting, as are your other readers! its really okay! get better soon 💐🐀💓

Hi anon,

This is very kind of you to say, but tbh, I don't think many people know how much some writers can, well, write.

I might seem like an over-achiever, but there are writers out there who easily write around 6000-10000 words per day, and release a book per month. I have met successful authors who aim for 150k or 200k at NaNo, because 50,000 words is 5 days of work to them.

It's hard for me to comprehend, because I know I can't do that. But likewise, I think many folks don't realise that I actually used to write a lot more than I do now!! For some years it was normal for me to write 50-80,000 words every single month. NaNo was a joke. That caused burnout, and so I adjusted down to a 25,000 minimum monthly wordcount which sometimes felt so easy that it was absurd. I now have a maximum which I have to adhere to per month (50k), because it's too easy to go past it.

For me, writing is relatively easy. It's still work, yes. I still need to put time into it. But I don't need to put in the same amount of time as someone who hasn't done it for thousands and thousands of hours. I don't need to put in the same amount of time as someone who can only touch type at 80 wpm, when I touch type at 120-150 wpm.

The amount of stories is an issue, and the number of chapter updates is an issue, but the actual output re: words themselves really isn't. In fact I've written more words this month than I did last month already, and will very likely hit my monthly minimum with the next chapter.

The things that contributed to my burnout are multifaceted. Getting a puppy. A death in the family. Not having access to the mental health drugs I need to function for a long period of time. Friendship disintegration. These things can cause burnout in anyone, even if they are working very sustainably, because they all require separate labour on top of the labour that someone is doing for their job.

When I come back from hiatus, I will not be writing less. I don't believe the wordcount is the issue and haven't for a long time. I will be scheduling out less chapters, because admin is overwhelming to me. If you told me that my job wasn't writing anymore, but I had to schedule + figure out when to post twice as many chapters, I'd fail, lmao.

So I will be addressing admin stuff! But the amount of words I was pushing out, anon, was completely sustainable, and in fact a highly reduced number compared to what I was pushing out 6/7 years ago. Anon, I have been pushing out this many words or more for 5 years without stopping until now. It's felt comfortable. It's been so much less than what I used to make myself write.

So yeah, again, it can be hard for people who don't do this professionally to imagine writing at this level. And all professionals are different. I couldn't write 150k for NaNoWriMo, but the people writing 100k a month find that extremely easy to do. How I feel about their output - that it's impossible (because it is for me) is not how they feel about their output. For them writing 50k a month to make it easy might be extremely laughable to them, like, 5 days of work and then they get 25 days off. That's sometimes how I've felt about 25k (though it's more like 10 days of work to me - which is great, because I have chronic illness lol, so I need a lot of rest days and periods).

The amount of words I was pushing out consistently will be the amount I go back to because that is truly the most sustainable part of my job. I don't expect folks who haven't plugged in as many hours into writing, and who haven't written millions of words to understand, but the fact is the more you do something, the faster you get at it. The more practice you have, the more competent you become.

That was actually how I knew the burnout was so bad, because the easiest part of my job - the words + the writing - was impossible last month, and I only ended up with 14k for the first time in 5 years, and had to make a call.

The reason the hiatus is so frustrating is that so much of it is being caused by external factors, and not actually the job itself. Like yes, I am working on too many stories, and I can address that, but I was actually doing much higher wordcounts when I was working on less stories.

It's all the extra stuff that becomes very overwhelming! But I'll get there anon, and my wordcounts aren't going anywhere.

[flightlessangelwings]

Kinktober day 1: Face Sitting

Face-sitting || Cream-pie || Anonymous sex

Logan Delos x afab!reader

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: smut (18+ only), oral (reader receiving), no use of y/n, smut with no pronoun use

Notes: Kicking off kinktober with my favorite bisexual disaster bottom lol! I had a LOT of fun writing this one too! Kinktober list provided by the lovely @the-purity-pen! And feel free to follow my update blog too to stay up to date with my fics @flightlessangelwings-updates​. Enjoy!

~

You were bored.

This was supposed to be the event of the year: the Delos gala at the Ritz Carlton hotel to celebrate another successful year. It was all glitz and glam and beautiful people whenever you looked. This was your first time attending, and you had looked forward to this for months. But now that you were here, you were bored out of your mind. All anyone wanted to talk about was money and all the fancy things they bought with their fortunes.

You weren’t like that, though. It was just a job to you, and even though it paid well, you were nowhere near the level of riches that many of the attendees were. Not that you cared about it anyway. As long as you could take care of yourself and those around you, you were happy. So, you absent-mindedly listened to the conversations around you as you sipped your drink.

Then, a voice broke you out of your head, ‘“Enjoying yourself?”

Startled, you jumped a bit and almost dropped your glass, though luckily it was empty. With a gasp, you tightened your grip to keep it from happening as you turned toward the voice. Your mouth dropped open when you realized who the voice belonged to, “Logan?!”

Logan chuckled as he waved a server over and took two fresh glasses from his tray. He wrapped a hand over yours and slid the empty glass out of your hand and replaced it with a full one. Your heart hammered in your chest when you felt his soft skin against yours.

“You look bored,” Logan sounded amused as he clinked his glass with yours and took a big sip.

You suddenly felt flustered under his gaze, “I… Sorry,” you dropped your gaze.

“Don’t be,” Logan brought a hand under your chin and tilted your face back up to meet his eyes again, “These parties are dull as shit.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his bluntness. During your time working for Delos Inc, you saw Logan in passing several times. You’ve had brief conversations with him, but the two of you weren’t necessarily close. But, you couldn’t deny your immediate attraction to the tall, handsome man. You thought he wouldn’t look twice at you, that he was way out of your league, but the intense way he stared at you made you swallow hard.

“How about you and me get out of here and have a better party?”

Logan’s blunt offer made your heart pound in your chest and you were sure you had the stupidest dumbfounded look on your face. You stammered for a moment only to be cut off with his laughter, and oh how beautiful his laugh was. Quickly, you gathered whatever courage you had and answered with a hushed, “Yes.”

“Come on, beautiful,” Logan held a hand out to you and it was like the rest of the world melted away.

His hand felt warmer that you imagined and his grip was surprisingly strong. You let Logan guide you through the glitter that surrounded you until you were in an elevator with him. The moment the doors closed, he was on you and had you pinned against the wall. His large hand that once held yours was now on your face as he tilted you at just the right angle to meet his lips.

Logan’s kiss was heated as he took your lips with his own. He wasted no time in tasting you as his tongue darted out between your lips and you immediately parted them for him. You met his passions with your own as you clung to his silky suit jacket and moaned into his mouth.

“You taste so good,” Logan purred in your ear, “I can’t wait to taste the rest of you.”

You couldn’t even reply because the ding of the elevator cut you off, and Logan’s hand was back in yours. You couldn’t help the giddy grin on your face as he led you to his penthouse suite and locked the door behind you. Again, he pinned you against the door the moment you were truly alone and his lips were back on yours in a flash. 

Logan peeled you off the door and led you through the lavish suite into the bedroom. Along the way, you each tugged and pulled at each other’s clothes, desperate for the prizes underneath. Once you finally got him free of his jacket and shirt, the sight of Logan before you completely took your breath away. He definitely noticed, and with a sly grin of his own, he slid your dress off your shoulders.

“You looked pretty in that,” he motioned to your discarded clothes while he spoke in a low tone. Logan’s gaze bore into you as he ran his hands up and down your sides, “But you look even better like this.”

“Logan…” you breathed as you watched in awe as he shed his pants in one swift motion. You wanted to tell him how beautiful he was, and how many times you imagined having him like this, but any words were caught in your throat. Instead, you lunged forward and took his lips with yours as the two of you crashed onto the bed, his body underneath yours. But, when you tried to run your hands down his body, he stopped you, “What…?”

“Later,” Logan said softly, “First, I want you to sit on my face.”

“Are- Are you sure?”

Logan kissed you again before he guided your body up his own. You were hesitant, but you let him do what he wanted until your thighs were on either side of his face. When you looked down, you lost any air in your lungs as he looked up at you with those dark eyes. Wasting no time, Logan wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you down until your pussy made contact with his tongue.

You let out an embarrassingly loud moan as Logan immediately dove his tongue into your folds. You rocked your hips against his face as he swirled his tongue around all your sensitive spots. It was as if he had a map to your body, since he found every place you liked. You held onto the bed frame to hold yourself up while Logan licked and sucked at your pussy. 

“Logan…” you moaned his name as you felt the heat build up in your body, “I’m…”

It didn’t take long for you to completely come undone on Logan’s face, and he did not let up until you were a whimpering, trembling mess. You leaned forward and rested your head against the bed frame while Logan pepperd soft kisses all along your inner thigh. He made no attempt to move, however, content to lay underneath you for the time being.

“You definitely taste better than I imagined,” Logan murmured as he slowly kissed your pussy again, “Ride my face again, baby.”

That was when you discovered how insatiable Logan really was, not that either of you had any complaints. You’d return the favor whenever he decided to let you off of his face.

~

Ben Barnes characters 

@addriaenne @kaqua​ @fific7​ @purple-poppy​ @katedrexel​ @things4your​ @rachlovesactors​ @eternallyvenus​ @datrie​ @lilypad-55449​ @coldlilheart​ @sam-hollandsgirl​ @carlywhomever​ @practicalghost​ @recklessworry​ @evyiione​ @eginv-blog​ @bisexualbilly​

Logan Delos

@stardust-danvers​ @wvndasmaximoff​ 

[dreamkidddream]

I’d like to request hc’s of the Brothers and Diavolo reacting to an MC that’s so cute, she could pass off as a doll. If she stands perfectly still, she could pass off as a full sized doll until she moves again. She has adorable doe eyes, wears cute clothes (Lolita fashion or just has an anime girl style), and even makes cute desserts. If the usual MC was weak and frail to them already, Doll!MC seems so dainty, precious, and fragile; these guys would ban paper if she ever got a paper cut.

Oooooo this is really interesting! I can just imagine Doll!MC just making everyone so scared every time she moves because they could probably hurt themselves just bumping into a wall because they look so fragile lol. These were short, so hope you enjoy!

Update: here’s part 2 with the other Undateables!

The Brothers and Diavolo Reacting to Doll!MC

Lucifer

...maybe he made a mistake in picking you for the exchange program after all

You just look so delicate, and just so pure. 

You have definitely made cute little snacks and brought it to him while he locked himself in the office with paperwork

He lowkey highkey likes it no matter how he brushes it off with the usual thanks. Keep doing it, MC, he really appreciates it

When you get in trouble and he gives you the usual lectures, he can’t look into your eyes for long

Geez, he already can’t stay mad at you for long but now he can just feel his resolve cracking

If you get hurt oh Diavolo prepare for helicopter parent Lucifer

As soon as you accidently cut yourself in the kitchen (it would be the tiniest cut, barely noticeable),  you’re no longer allowed in the kitchen unsupervised and can’t handle anything with a sharp end (whether its a butter knife or kid proof scissors that would be safe for Luke to use unsupervised)

“Let me do it for you, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Lucifer, thank you but I’ll be okay. It’s just a frosting spatula it’s not sharp-”

Will punish his brothers 10x worse and demons 100x more if he finds out you got hurt (doesn’t matter what the injury is, could be so much as a paper cut there will be hell to pay)

Constantly checks on you when he can’t see you in person

Handles you so lightly that you barely feel his touch

Move over Belphie, you’re the baby of the house now 

Mammon

Protective x100000

Is still tsudere around you, but doesn’t insult you as much

Who are you kidding as soon as he looks into your cute doe eyes, he forgets what he’s saying 

Complains about having to do stuff for you but doesn’t mind at all really. He loves it because it feels like you’re depending on him, and that makes him feel worth something.

“C’mon human, let the Great Mammon carry your books! You’re gonna hurt yourself and I don’t feel like hearing Lucifer’s mouth today!”

It was just your planner and a small recipe book that Luke gave you, and it weighed less than 10 pounds but okay. You don’t complain either when you see that he genuinely wants to help and do these things

Basically your loud guard dog and secret service agent rolled into one

He’s gotten into trouble more than once for “protecting you”. A student barely bumped your shoulder and Mammon already tackled him. Lucifer was not pleased (but he secretly understood)

He can’t help it that you’re weak and surrounded by hungry demons! It’s a pain to go through this much effort to just protect you, since you look so helpless

MC he’s just worried that you easily break if a demon so much as breathes on you but he likes that he can protect you because he knows that he can keep you safe. You’re just too cute and sweet okay??

Also stand in his room after watching a horror movie to freak him out and he’ll be sounding like Mariah Carey lmao

Leviathan

RURI-CHAN IS THAT YOU??!

Is for sure having an otaku/weaboo freakout moment

You blend in with figurines so well, every time you come into his room he asks you to stand next to them so he can feel that his collection is complete 

He does it sometimes when he streams so people can think he has a rare limited-edition life sized doll that they can’t get. Makes him feel superior 

DRESSING YOU UP IN COSPLAY 100%

You’re like an anime character but in real life and he does not know how to handle it 

Can’t stare into your eyes, it makes them too flustered because he’s used to seeing it in his otome games and not from an actual person that he likes

Who needs maid cafes when he has you? You even dress and make anime themed desserts (once he built up the courage to ask you to make it for him)

Has to calm his beating heart every time he talks to you, you’re too precious for him MC! 

Your like his very own idol, minus the singing and dancing. However, if you can sing and dance....

Levi.exe has stopped working 

Satan

Thought you were a real doll until you introduced yourself

He really thought that someone brought you to life Pinocchio style

You looked like a princess from the many stories that he read, and he was smitten

Treated you so graceful and elegant like until he had his rage moments, which he told you to stay far, far, far away from him until he calmed down completely

Secretly placed a hex on you to where if someone tried to attack you or touch you with harmful intentions, they would be somehow be subjected to looking at their worst fear

You were wondering why that random stranger was just staring wide at you with extensive terror, but then you saw Satan grinning, so you left it alone. You thought it was just some weird demon thing

Loved when you made him cat-themed desserts

If you wore cat ears while doing it, he will turn extremely red

If you meow for him, he won’t know how to handle himself 

Asmodeus

You are just the cutest thing he has ever laid his eyes on!!

Besides from himself of course, don’t get it twisted he’s still #1

He has most definitely had more than one photoshoot done with you both. And you guys have been trending on the Devilgram a couple of times already

Really you guys trend at least twice a month, and his fans love you!

They always ask where he got the doll from but he always laughs and says that “it’s a secret”

Imagine their shock when they see you walking and talking at RAD, some are amazed and some are downright scared

Fashion shows! 

He lives for dressing you up in cute clothes. Your style already suited you and he had great tastes so the new outfits he got you were just *chef’s kiss*

The cute little desserts that you made for him, he always posted it on the Devilgram before he ate it. They were just so cute MC and he couldn’t not show his fans!

Is the most careful brother when it comes to keeping you out of danger. He refused to let his body or skin damaged, and he wasn’t about to let it happen to you either! You are both way too dainty and fragile to let anything happen

Also spa days and self-care nights weekly!

You’re the perfect match made just for him MC

He finally has someone that can understand his struggle of being beautiful, bless you MC

Beelzebub

Soft boy is scared of touching you :(

He towers over you, and he’s scared to even be near you

It takes some time, but he starts to warm up to you

Is always gentle with you, no matter the scenario

Holding hands? He is hardly gripping your hand, said hand fitting loosely in his

Getting hugs? He’s meagerly holding you, not wanting to crush you

You once complained to Beel that it wasn’t fair to get half done hugs (if you were hugging, you were getting a real hug, not a scared one). 

He made you swear that if he was hurting you to let him know, so now you have your very own signal to use for him just in case

He was very tempted to wrap you in bubble wrap and just carry you around like that

He LOVES your sweets, even more than Luke’s and Barbatos’

No matter the size, he loves them, mainly because you made them and it was made with love, just for him

It always makes him feel so warm inside, and he doesn’t feel his appetite gnawing at him like usual

No one is dumb enough to try anything with you both in his presence and not, unless they want to end up either a: deep into the ground or b: into his stomach

You just make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and he just loves everything about you. He just loves you

Belphegor

Hm, you look cute 

For a human

Acts like he doesn’t care, but you’ve caught him blushing before (he still does it too)

Won’t outright admit that you’re charming in your own little way, but he does in his sarcastic way like usual

“MC, you’re such a half-pint. You’re like my personal sized teddy bear.”

Has cuddled with you like you were his personal teddy bear (and still does, but you don’t complain at all)

Has a secret sweet tooth and eat your desserts whenever you make it just for him (and he doesn’t even share it with Beel, that monster)

Demons just have to look Belphie in the eyes, watch him flex his claws, and they all of a sudden forget about whatever they were planning. Good

He hates that you look so fragile, but at the same time he kinda likes it

You just look so soft, and you’re just so kind

It makes him feel like he’s protecting and caring for you, and that makes him feel calm and peaceful 

Please make sure that he’s okay MC, he’s scared that he’s gonna mess up again

Diavolo

The Prince of Hell is both surprised and pleased at your appearance

Do all humans look this charming or is it just you??

If someone as soft as you can survive living and going to school with demons, then this is great

Knew that you weren’t a doll, but still liked to admire you like one

Has asked more than once for pictures, you are just too enchanting!

Wants to have a portrait painted of you so he can hang it up in the castle

LOVES you baking for him! Loves when Barbatos does it too (even though it is kinda part of his job), but it feels different with you. It feels...domestic in a sense. Makes him feel like Diavolo, your friend and very interested in being your boyfriend, instead of Lord Diavolo, the prince that will be residing over Hell in the future

No one would be foolish enough to hurt you. If someone was, they wouldn’t even get the chance to lift a finger before they were directly dealing with him. Don’t take his kindness for weakness, he still is a demon after all, the future King of Hell to be exact

Was scared of touching you at first, but quickly grew out of it! He can handle his own strength, and you guys also have a signal to use just in case he does squeeze a little too tight

Will want to dress you up in royal clothes (if you were okay with it). Nothing is wrong with your current style, as a matter of fact it suits you! He basically just wants to play a fancy game of dress up/have a fashion show with royal clothing

Will take 100s of photos, no exaggeration

Asmo will be jealous, so be warned

Plus, he wants to know how his future lover/ruler would look in a crown so he can start taking measurements. You can never be too ready, right MC?

[boltthrutheheart]

Daryl and Beth: Honey and the Moon

Hey guys…I’m don’t really get personal about my life online…on any sort of open forum or platform, but I guess it is time to open up a little. Writing Bethyl fanfiction has been such a passion of mine since…well, since I first binged TWD in early 2014, and Beth and Daryl, their story, and all of their possibilities (before Still and Alone aired) captured my heart and imagination. It has been such a constructive creative outlet for me, and although through the years, my fic writing went from posting chapters sometimes twice a week to having a more complicated life that only allowed me to update once a month, to even less than that, a few times a year, I have always held my fics very dear to heart. When Covid came around, the uncertainty of life during that few year period really sucked my creative spirit right out of me, and I hoped it would get better as we learned to live with Covid and we got back to normal life. But then something all the worse happened. My Dad got really sick in October of 2021. His doctor didn’t take him seriously…until he did…but by the time he was taken seriously and sent to a specialist in early December, my Dad was mostly bedridden, and it was too late. He had a very aggressive form of cancer, and it was at the terminal stage. With Chemo, we were able to buy some time together…my Dad was my best friend and my business partner…and I am an only child to boot, so it hit me as hard as anyone can imagine. In the spring, the doctors saw some improvement that they thought might give us a substantial amount of time…but in the end, those results were somehow read wrong, and by the beginning of July, my Dad passed away. During all the time he was sick, I was his caretaker (at the end, 24 hours a day), and I was happy to be there for him, I wouldn’t have had it any different, but needless to say, there was no time or inspiration for me to pursue any sort of thing that I used to have passion for. I would peek in on the fandom from time to time, but I was mostly separated from it. Even now, two months after my Dad’s passing, I am still so devastated and bereft that sometimes I can’t even comprehend what happened over the last almost year, but I am trying to find ways to get back to who I used to be…trying to get back into the creativity that I love and need so much.

Then…inspiration just found me…a prompt for the UBFL summer writing contest. I just sat down and found it in myself to write again, and at the end of my little one-shot, when I read it back, it brought me warmth, a sense of sweetness that is still possible in the world, and a sense of accomplishment that I didn’t know I would or could feel again. And then this little one-shot went on to win the contest…when I found out, it honestly made me tear up…in a good way…which hadn’t happened in a very long time. So it is with such a sense of delight and accomplishment that I get to share my newest Bethyl fic with the fandom. I want to thank anyone who voted for me…I am humbled by it, and I really appreciate it more than I can say. It came at the time I needed it the most. I would also like to say that it made my heart happy to see so many wonderful writers submit fics to the contest. The Bethyl fandom might not be as active as it used to be…but those people who still share their creations so freely with the fandom bring such heart, love, and passion to those who still wait so eagerly and need the stories that present all the possibilities of the lives Beth and Daryl could and should have shared. Also...thank you so much @ultimatebethylficlist for continuing to bring us events to keep the fandom active and inspired.

 So, again, thank you all so much for this opportunity to share my fic and find my creativity again. I can’t say that I will be back to writing on a regular basis anytime soon in regards to my long WIPs. I am currently in a certification program since I am pursuing a new career for this new chapter in my life, but I hope by the new year when I have received my certification that I can dive back into fic writing with my full heart.

 My Bethyl fic, Honey and the Moon, can be found on both AO3 and FFnet at the following links:

(x) Honey and the Moon AO3 (x)

(x) Honey and the Moon FFnet (x)

The title as well as the lyrics in the fic are from the song Honey and the Moon by Joseph Arthur.

[erotikkook]

I'm Back!

𝐀 𝐒𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 Hi there, everyone! It's been a hot minute since I've been active (i.e. over 6 months), but I wanted to give you a long update on where I've been, what I've been doing, etc.! If you're not a big reader, I'd skip past this post - it'll be kinda lengthy. possible tw: mental health/physical health, potential cursing, mentions of sex in relation to tumblr content - ALL SECTIONS WILL HAVE TW ACCORDINGLY

NOTE: THERE IS ALSO AN ANNOUNCEMENT ABOUT SOME UPCOMING FICS. IF YOU'RE NOT INTERESTED IN MY PERSONAL LIFE BUT WANT TO KNOW ABOUT WHAT TO EXPECT HERE IN TERMS OF MY WRITING, JUST SCROLL TO THE CATEGORY LABELLED "FANFICTION"

𝗠𝗬 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟 𝗟𝗜𝗙𝗘

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙠 I've spent extensive time going from one job to the next. I'm making a very similar transition again, hopefully for the final job. It's an even better full-time job that would make me twice as much as I make now. I was offered a position which means I'm well on my way to renting an apartment and getting a better car!

𝘽𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮 By the time you see this, it'll be my 20th birthday! So just a little happy birthday to me and all my other April babies.

𝙋𝙝𝙮𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙈𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙩𝙝 (𝙏𝙒) TW for this section, mentions of physical + mental health and mentions of weight. Please skip this if you're uncomfortable. I've also spent a lot of time being physically and mentally ill. I'm now officially diagnosed with several things. This means I'm on medicine, which makes me very tired, unable to do a lot, and made me gain weight as a side-effect of the medication. I've always had issues with my self-esteem, weight, and relationship with food - thus, I spiralled for a while and, being as stubborn as I am, refused to get help when I was suffering mentally. I still need help, but I'm happier and feel healthier too! I've learned to accept myself as I am and to love how I look. There was a ton of internalized fatphobia that I hadn't realised existed, and I've since been working through that. I'm also very slowly becoming friends with food again. Wish me luck! You're all good for TW now! Read on!

𝙈𝙮 𝙃𝙖𝙞𝙧 I've been grappling with other parts of myself too. My hair is one of them. It's been very feminine my entire life, and thus I've grappled with the length of it. It's also, at the same time, been my only source of comfort - something I could control and do with as I pleased. I've since come to terms with myself in many ways, so I've chopped all my hair off! I know it might not be a big deal to most people, but it took a lot for me to do that and admit that my obsession with it was unnerving and unhealthy. Imagine a mini mullet. If you're a close friend, you've probably been bombarded with pictures of my hair, but I'll leave the rest up to the crowd's imagination!

𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗧𝗬

𝘼𝙣 𝘼𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 I'd like to very formally announce that I identify as genderfluid! For those who may support the LGBTQ community but don't quite know what the term means, I think WebMD sums it up pretty well for just a vague understanding: "Someone who is fluid -- also called gender fluid -- is a person whose gender identity (the gender they identify with most) is not fixed. It can change over time or from day to day." Usually, this will switch between he/him & they/them for me on a personal basis, so if we're ever having interactions and you're unsure, those are your best bet! 𝙈𝙮 𝙉𝙖𝙢𝙚 I'd also like to officially announce that my preferred name is Declan! This was decided after almost six months of thought. Ngl, there were a lot of sleepless nights, but here we are, and I'm very happy with who I've become! I don't intend to explain my decision. I've talked with my support system about my feelings enough for the life of me, but nevertheless, thank you for your support in advance!

𝗙𝗮𝗻𝗳𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻

𝙁𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙎𝙤𝙤𝙣 A few fics are coming your way. I'll announce them here but will probably make a separate post too! Here's what's set to come out (note, no dates are listed as of this moment, I'm bad with dates, and I no longer want to make promises I can't keep):

Desperate For You - Seokjin x Reader - based on Desperate by Jonas Blue & Nina Nesbitt

take it and run - Taehyung x Reader - based on Friends by Chase Atlantic

Fallin' Without Caution - Namjoon x Reader - based on People Watching by Conan Gray

checkmate - Yoongi x Reader - based on Lost The Breakup by Maisie Peters

I have about 31 requests (I counted, holy shit) to get through, so I'll also complete those. I know it's been over a year, but I appreciate the unending patience!

[jatp-spinsb]

Chaos prompts: 3 + Reggie/Ray

Chaos prompt 3: "We do not need that many tiny pumpkins."

This is set in Innytoes’s ABO au. The gist of the world building is that omegas aren’t legally people, and they have to be registered to an alpha. Reggie is an omega who is registered to Ray and Caleb (both alphas), who are married. The concept is dystopian, but fluffiness abounds.

Once Ray and Caleb realized that all Reggie did with his new credit card was buy groceries, they agreed to give him access to their Amazon account. At the very least, they wanted him to be able to watch things on Amazon and, Caleb hoped, he’d become bolder about buying things he wanted for himself. (Caleb’s ulterior motive was to spy on Reggie’s purchase history so that he could get a better idea of what sorts of things Reggie might like as gifts.)

This ended up backfiring when Reggie realized he could buy Halloween decorations on Amazon.

Ray logged into his account, noticed the number of new items in the cart, and started rubbing his temples as he tried to sort through the dozens of Halloween-themed decorations Reggie had added (he hadn’t bought any of it yet, but clearly the man loved Halloween).

“Reggie,” Ray called as the omega passed through the dining room where Ray was on his laptop, “remind me to show you the box of Halloween decorations we have in the loft in the garage.”

Reggie froze, facing paling (more than usual). “You’re on your Amazon, aren’t you?”

“You’re not in trouble,” Ray assured him quickly, and Reggie relaxed a fraction. “It’s just that we already have enough decorations to put up around the house. I don’t know where we’d put,” he paused, scanning the screen and picking an object at random, “30 tiny plastic pumpkins?”

Reggie cleared his throat. “It’s actually 60. I put it in the cart twice.”

Ray gave him an incredulous look. “We do not need that many tiny pumpkins.”

“I know,” Reggie said, somewhat dejectedly. “It’s just, Halloween is my favorite holiday, and I’ve never lived with anyone who wanted to decorate for Halloween, so I might have gone a little overboard imagining all the different ways we could decorate the house.” He gave a half shrug. “It’s stupid. Halloween’s not even for a couple of months, anyway.”

Ray walked over to Reggie and wrapped him in a hug. Reggie wrapped his arms around Ray in return. “Reggie, it’s not stupid. It sounds like it’s something you’ve wanted for a long time, and no one’s ever given it to you. But in this house, we do decorate for Halloween, and you’re welcome to help us make the house look extra spooky, if you want to.”

Reggie nodded against Ray’s shoulder. “I would love that.”

Ray smiled. “And who knows? Maybe it’s time to update some of our decorations. Do you want to go through the Halloween bin with me and see what we might get rid of to make room for some new stuff?”

Reggie pulled back, eyes wide. “For real?”

“Of course! We can even do it right now, if you want.”

The grin on Reggie’s face lit up the whole room. “Race you to the garage!” And with that he took off. Ray, knowing it was a race he would lose, was just happy to see Reggie excited.

When Caleb came home, he found them knee-deep in the Halloween decorations that were spread all over the garage floor. Confused as he was, Ray walked over to him, gave him a peck and whispered, “It’s for Reggie.”

Later, Ray showed him what he had found in the Amazon cart, and Caleb was delighted to realize that he now had new gift ideas for Reggie.

[artemis-entreri]

[[ This post contains Part 3 of my review/analysis of the Forgotten Realms/Drizzt novel, Glacier’s Edge, by R. A. Salvatore. As such, the entirety of this post’s content is OOC. ]]

Genre: Fantasy

Series: The Way of the Drow: Book 2 | Legend of Drizzt #38 (#35 if not counting The Sellswords)

Publisher: Harper Collins (August 09, 2022)

My Rating: 2 out of 5 stars

Additional Information: Artwork for the cover of Glacier’s Edge and used above is originally done by David Palumbo. This post CONTAINS SPOILERS. Furthermore, this discussion concerns topics that I am very passionate about, and as such, at times I do use strong language. Read and expand the cut at your own discretion.

As of this point, I am still finishing this document. I will be posting the subsequent sections. The table of contents will be updated when it is complete.

Contents:

Introduction

I. Positives I.1 Sublime Similes and Marvelous Metaphors I.2 Other Effective Imagery I.3 Consistent Lore and Decent Worldbuilding I.4 Respectable and Respectful Characterization

II. Neutrals

III. Negatives (Technical Writing) [you are here] III.1 Punctuation Problems III.2 Shameful Similes and Maladroit Metaphors III.3 Other Imagery Issues

IV. Negatives (Characterization)

V. World Breaks

VI. Religious Commentary

VII. Ego Stroking

VIII. Problematic Themes

IX. What’s Next

Negatives (Technical Writing)

While not valued by some, correct technical writing, such as spelling, punctuation and grammar, go a long way towards a book’s fundamental readability. Although I consider Salvatore’s errors in the technical department minor compared to the crimes he commits against, for instance, characterization, I will point out the errors in Glacier’s Edge both for the sake of being thorough, but also because it’s pretty embarrassing for an author that touts his status as a multi-time New York TImes Bestseller to have so many issues occur in his technical writing. Some of these instances appear to be typos that were also overlooked by his editor, but some appear to be, appallingly, conscious choices that Salvatore made.

Punctuation Problems

The first example of bad technical writing occurs in the very first sentence of the prologue:

This is one of those shockingly bad conscious choices. “And the cold.” is not a proper sentence, as it lacks both a subject and a predicate. I believe Salvatore was trying to achieve a sense of isolation, with emphasis on the dark, quiet and the cold, but this is a really clumsy and not at all evocative way of going about it. While it’s true that brevity is the soul of wit, it does not mean that one should abandon basic writing rules, especially when doing so doesn’t gain anything at all to convey one’s point. The above construction would work better if it, for instance, told us more about either of the three qualities of dark, quiet, and cold, and then drew a comparison of the other two qualities to the one that’s being specified. As it is, with just those two sentences, dark can be anything from sunset to the lightless areas of the Underdark, quiet could be anything from a classroom during an exam to a soundproofed room, and both a Floridian in New York during November and a Swede in the second month that the sun hasn’t risen would both be cold. Adjectives just flung out there do leave more space for the imagination, but that lack of specificity also fails to convey the qualities of the setting.

The next error is a basic one:

The absence of the comma feels strangely like seeing a car painted a really ugly shade like baby shart green. It’s not a big deal if it’s some old, run down vehicle from an age long past, no one’s going to look at it twice anyway and if they do, the paintjob isn’t what they’d worry about. However, in this case with Mr. Mutli-NYT Bestseller, who believes that his work is more akin to a Ferrari, looking at that painfully basic error is like looking at a freaking Ferrari painted baby shart green complete with textured details in shades of brown and yellow.

The baby shart green car phenomenon reappears with:

I’ll leave it off here rather than coming up with another overly detailed and gross analogy for this technical and very basic error.

Another example of a technical and very basic mistake is the following:

Everyone makes typos, but not everyone throws their weight around boasting about how they’re multi-time NYT Bestsellers and how they “created the drow of the Forgotten Realms” (by the way, he didn’t. Dude didn't even create Lolth or her cult, let alone other drow deities, faiths, cultures, and cities). This kind of thing is just embarrassing for someone with decades of writing experience and access to the editors of one of the world’s top publishing companies.

Shameful Similes and Maladroit Metaphors

While Salvatore has pulled off some successful similes in Glacier’s Edge, the following is not an example of one:

The sad thing about this fail is that it seems that Salvatore had the right idea, but instead of actually describing a delicious, flavor-filled scent from a far-off land, he just leaves it feeling like notes to an editor or ghostwriter to do the actual work. It is understandable that specificity might prove to be a turn-off to some readers, as people’s tastes vary vastly. However, it’s still better to use something specific and evocative, and there are a lot of things that are pretty much safe bets across countless cultures, for instance the smell of bread freshly out of the oven.

Salvatore demonstrates in Glacier’s Edge that he understands how to use similes, even understands how to use them well, but then passages like the following call that knowledge into question:

This is frustrating for two reasons: first, based on how we see that window of ice function, it is literally a trap by D&D standards. If we move away from D&D though, and consider this from the perspective of someone who’s never heard of D&D before, the comparison doesn’t really elucidate anything. This simile, if it can even be called that, is just confounding all around. The sad thing is, this sentence has an immensely easy and straightforward fix: remove everything after the comma and replace the comma with a period. If he’s really married to mentioning the trap comparison, simply remove the “like”, and bam, it’s better.

A successful simile not only employs an evocative image, the comparison should also possess the appropriate mood. The following is a decent comparison, however conveys entirely the wrong mood:

A frantic crab evokes chaos, incoordination, and most of all, retreat, as the only time that most people witness frantic crabs is when they’re trying to eat them and the crab is attempting to flee for its life. It doesn’t even evoke speed, as even a crab in full retreat is not the speediest of creatures. While this could be somewhat mitigated if one were to substitute “demonic” for “frantic” that still doesn't make it truly appropriate. After all, the Hunter, the name given to Drizzt’s primal battle alter ego that puts him in a higher state of instincts and enhances his combat prowess, is supposed to be more akin to an apex predator. Silent, precise and deadly as a great horned owl diving for its prey is more the vibe of the Hunter, not some unintelligent crustacean that’s pretty far down multiple food chains.

Another misuse of simile can be found in the following:

All it takes to fix this one is to change the simile to an explanation. As a simile, the passage fails like the earlier one about a trap reset. Rewritten as, for instance, “a hand reaching up from the floor as though some gigantic creature dwelled below the icy surface”, fewer words are employed, and becomes more evocative.

A good simile loses its effectiveness if used repeatedly. This is the case with the following:

The instance of likening Minolin Fey to a displacer beast is effective, but removing the tentacles and a pair of legs from the feline does not a new simile make. Much like how the first instance of something is unique but the second is a copycat and a poser, this low budget simile falls flat. That isn’t to say repeated and similar similes can’t be effective, for instance if the author wants to convey that a certain character has feline qualities, repeating variations of the comparison can solidify the impression. However, these are two totally different characters. By comparing them to similar things, it only serves to muddle the distinctiveness of their respective personalities.

I’ll take this opportunity to refresh what constitutes a simile: a simile is a figure of speech involving the comparison of one thing with another thing of a different kind, used to make a description more emphatic or vivid. Similes, alongside metaphors, all fall under the analogies category. Although it wouldn’t be totally inaccurate to describe the above passage as an analogy, in general analogies are more extensive and elaborate than a simile. Furthermore, analogies are a type of argument where there is a clear comparison and a relation between two different concepts or objects and similes are a literary device that makes a direct comparison between two different things. For this reason, the comparison being made in an analogy can be used to make an explanatory point, whereas a simile cannot be used in the same fashion.

An example of a bad simile is the one found at the end of this passage:

While the imagery of a terrified washerwoman stomping rats isn’t a bad one insofar as being evocative, the mood in the comparison is totally wrong. As a dragon, Tazmikella is among the apex predators of her world, which is true even considering that copper dragons are not the most powerful among dragons. The opponents that she is treading underfoot are certainly to her as at most rats are to a human woman, far less than rats if one is being honest, as the average rat wouldn't likely be eliminated due a a generic stomping, even if the stomper was terrified. Further, the mood of the situation Tazmikella is in compared to the washerwoman is severely off. The passage leading up to the last part projects confidence, ferociousness, and the coordination of a majestic creature dominating her enemies. A terrified washerwoman in contrast likely stomps more floor than rat, and while there might be an argument made for ferociousness, she is anything but coordinated, majestic, or confident in her endeavors. I suppose bonus points should be given to Salvatore for attempting to make an in universe comparison (in the sense that the Realms, as a fantasy world loosely based on medieval times has washerwomen like all such fantasy worlds do), however in this case that is not sufficient to save it from failing. The sad thing is, this simile could be greatly improved by a simple modification: the removal of the word “terrified”, or perhaps replacing it with something to the effect of “frenzied”. With either change, the lack of confidence and coordination can be effectively removed by the reader’s interpretation. The no longer specifically terrified washerwoman becomes one who is accustomed to dealing with rats as one of the aspects of city life, and is going about her routine of chasing them away from her work space. In such a scenario, both confidence and coordination comes from her familiarity with the situation. Better similes can be found for the situation, but the existing one is salvageable.

The final simile fail, which really takes the cake, is the following: 

What the serious heck is this analogy even supposed to mean? Taking it apart doesn’t help in making any more sense of it, starting with how the children sent to war part is supposed to be a positive, but even in Lolthite drow culture that is definitely not a positive practice. What exactly is Gromph feeling here? One would presume pride or perhaps determination, given the impressive scope of his attack and the formidability of his opponent. I think Salvatore might be trying for that Gromph is putting out meteors in a great quantity like some large birthing monster puts out offspring, but even taken in that context, it’s difficult to make sense of this comparison. Is Salvatore saying that Gromph has sent many of his children to war? That Gromph enjoys seeing his children burn? It’s honestly difficult to tell. This is most likely one of those things that he wrote thinking that it sounds cool, and of course those among his fans who believe that the most redeeming quality of women are their looks will be all like, “omg that’s so cool” without actually stopping and considering that it means less than nothing.

Other Imagery Issues

One of the most prominent and obnoxious Salvatorisms has been the “back on his/her/their heels” phrase. In the past, Salvatore used this phrase so much that someone was being forced back on their heels in almost every tense encounter, combat or otherwise. He has gotten better from abusing it so much, hopefully from the realization that people do not actually go back onto their heels when surprised, especially not expert masters of combat. In Glacier’s Edge, this usage appears only four times. One of those times actually has me wondering if Salvatore has indeed progressed enough beyond this old and awful trope to poke fun at himself for it:

As commendable as it would be if he were intentionally making fun of himself, unfortunately this passage is unsuccessful overall. While it is a decent example of using context to define the uncommon word “hallux”, unfortunately the understanding of the word is incomplete. The hallux is indeed on the back side of a bird’s foot, but it’s one of the digits of the foot rather than the actual heel. The hallux of a bird is more like our thumb or big toe, and a creature with bird feet would not want to go back on its hallux anymore than we’d want to put weight on our fingers or toes in the opposite direction that they naturally bend. What would more realistically happen, in the unrealistic scenario of going back on one’s heels, is that the vrock would go back to the part of its feet that’s most similar to our thenars, which are the rounded fleshy parts of the hand at the base of the thumb, or in other words, the “heel” of our palms. Please note that I’m not saying that the above passage would be improved with the incorporation of accurate technical terms. It would not be, and the best way to fix it is to drop this Salvatorism altogether.

Astonishingly, sometimes Salvatore seems to actually forget what a simile is, and/or how to use one:

The above is an utter failure of a writing device masquerading as a simile. The context of the situation is that Galathae and Allefaero are being pursued by polar worms as they desperately try to make their way to the ropes leading out of the worms’ lair. The entity whose side is blackened and smoking is one of the polar worms, who had been struck by one of Allefaero’s lightning attacks. The polar worm had literally been seared by lighting. There is no “as if” about it. The way that this is written is the same type of fail as, “the lamp sat there like an inanimate light-emitting object”, “the ice was as cold as frozen water”, “the fire was hot like burning”, you get the idea. Even if the argument were made that this passage is written the way it is because it’s being told from Galathae’s perspective and that she was really in the zone, that she didn’t know what Allefaero had been up to, it would make even less sense. Galathae and Allefaero had gone down as a two man rescue team, in a highly dangerous situation one doesn’t need to be a seasoned combatant to know to prioritize having each other’s backs. Furthermore, Galathae had seen Allefaero use devastating lightning attacks against the polar worms, and her witnessing his prowess had caused a conscious shift of her perspective of him. Finally, in that same scene, we’re told how sacred Galathae considered her duty of trying to save Allefaero and how she owed it to her god to do so. Given all of these, Galathae would either have to be not very bright at all or have less of a memory than a goldfish to see the polar worm’s injury and think, “Oh gee, that looks like lightning damage, I wonder where it came from?” rather than immediately making the connection between it and Allefaero. It would be easily fixed by dropping the “as if”, or just removing everything after the comma altogether.

Repetition is definitely not the soul of wit, but Salvatore sure enjoys engaging in it. Spamming the words, “magnificent” and “fine”, has long been one of the Salvatorisms, but thankfully with the recent books he seems to have been weaned off of the habit of using those two words. In my analyses of previous books, I noted that unfortunately he has replaced those two favorites with new words to spam. In Glacier’s Edge, he adds “strange creature” to his arsenal:

While in general, three times can hardly be called spamming, Salvatore only uses “strange creature” four times in the book, and three of those refer to Yvonnel 2.0. Moreover, each of those three instances of referring to Yvonnel 2.0 are done by different characters: the first by Sos’Umptu Baenre, the second by Kyrnill Melarn, and the third by Mez’Barris Armgo. Less of imparting to the reader that the Lolthites view Yvonnel 2.0 in a dehumanizing (de-drow-izing?) manner, the repetition of “strange creature” feels more like a memo had been passed around among the Lolthites denoting that this is how Yvonnel 2.0 should be described. Its almost as if Menzoberranzan's Facebook had Yvonnel change her status to “Strange Creature”. It would’ve been more effective for each of the matron mother listed above to have her own way of describing Yvonnel 2.0, but all to the same effect. However, Salvatore does not do this, perhaps out of laziness, or perhaps it was too difficult for him to come up with two variations of the concept of “strange creature”. Here are some alternatives that could’ve worked: bizarre entity, aberration, odd beast, incomprehensible personage. I didn’t use a thesaurus for those, but perhaps Salvatore could benefit from using one. However, a thesaurus is just a tool, and like any tool, its effectiveness depends on the abilities of its wielder. Knowing Salvatore, sadly, the most likely outcome of the employment of a thesaurus would be phrases that range from weird to cringey in nature. 

One of the ways to distinguish between a good author and a bad one is through gauging the amount of showing versus telling that they employ in their writing. Showing is using descriptions that appeal to the reader’s senses to convey an idea, concept, image and/or conclusion to them, whereas telling is directly informing the reader of the aforementioned things. Writing via showing is superior to writing via telling not only because it’s more poignant, but also it’s more difficult to pull off effectively. Salvatore’s writing unfortunately consists of a great deal of telling rather than showing, and just like there are varying degrees of success when it comes to showing, there are varying degrees of failure when it comes to telling. The following passage in Glacier’s Edge is an example of telling instead of showing, and a particularly incompetent case of it as well:

The failure that I’m specifically referring to is “distinctive-looking”, an adjective that conveys nothing at all in terms of characterization. Distinctive can mean being different from others, or having an uncommon quality. If we take the first meaning, it’s really a ‘well, duh” moment, because everyone looks different from everyone else. The second meaning doesn’t make the descriptor any more effective, for the traits that Salvatore elaborates upon, namely her thick copper hair and bigger than average blue eyes, are not qualities that are all that out of the ordinary. It would be far more effective to take out the waste of the two words and replace them with descriptions of other aspects of her features. For instance, how high and pronounced are her cheekbones? Do her ears have a slight point to them because of her true nature? What is the size of her nose, the height of its bridge, the flare of the nostrils, the shape of its tip? Since this is Ilnezhara, mayhaps she’d incorporate some subtle draconic features in her human appearance, for instance, do her pupils have a slight vertical elongation that only the most observant might note? Are her teeth just slightly too sharp for a human’s, only visible when she grins fiercely? Is her hair straight, curly, or any number of textures, and does it shine with a metallic gleam under sunlight? All of these are just some of the many many examples of how we could be shown about Ilnezhara, instead of being told she’s “distinctive-looking”. As it is however, Salvatore might as well be describing the protagonist of the live action Alita: Battle Angel movie, a film most remember by the realistic anime-proportioned character:

Change the hair and eye color, and we’d have the “distinctive-looking” woman described above. That’s truly a face that’ll stick in your mind because it’s so much unlike anything else you’ve seen before, hence distinctive. Sorry, not sorry.

Salvatore’s fight scenes might as well be treatises on telling instead of showing. In the more recent books, the fight scenes have gotten better, mainly through their decreases in length. The shorter sequences have reduced the likelihood of there being more words than clarity about what is actually happening. Often the earlier descriptions have played out like Hollywood C-list stop-action fight sequences, as this reader’s experience demonstrates:

However, this isn’t to say that the telling has gotten any better or is even reduced. Case in point:

Much like the earlier example with “distinctive-looking”, this passage serves us up a bunch of words with very little meaning. It also feels totally devoid of heart. In previous novels, Salvatore would liken Drizzt’s combat maneuvers to a deadly dance, now, these descriptors fall so flat that they don’t even possess the concept that they could leap off the page and lift our imaginations. Like all of Salvatore’s combat scenes, there is so much lost potential. Instead of making a grocery list of occurrences, the scenes would be much more evocative if they, like with all effective writing, appealed to all of our senses. Action scenes have the additional potential of throwing the reader into the midst of them by offering us glimpses of the participants’ thoughts and reactions, as well as what they see, hear, feel, smell, and taste, but of course, Salvatore doesn’t do that either. I suppose the one upside to the example cited above is that at least he didn’t actually cite a specific number of strikes and conceivable angles, which, given his track record, would’ve been laughably ridiculous in nature.

It is difficult to say why the examples covered in this section exist, as many of them are easy fixes, or have corresponding successful instances as discussed in the Positives section. As that section showed, Salvatore can do better, but it’s anyone’s guess why he doesn’t. Of course, while it does happen with some books, it would be unreasonable to expect every book to excel throughout. However, this reader can’t help but feel that a little extra effort can go a long way into improving the quality of Drizzt novels, at least in the technical department.

It is difficult to say why the examples covered in this section exist, as many of them are easy fixes, or have corresponding successful instances as discussed in the Positives section. As that section showed, Salvatore can do better, but it’s anyone’s guess why he doesn’t. Of course, while it does happen with some books, it would be unreasonable to expect every book to excel throughout. However, this reader can’t help but feel that a little extra effort can go a long way into improving the quality of Drizzt novels, at least in the technical department.

[tonguetiedraven]

Prompt: long distance call?

This was actually weirdly hard for me because I really hate talking on the phone xD The moment I have to grab a phone I lose any conversation skills (which aren't many) I had. I need to see the person or I lapse into even more awkward silence. Apparently that extends to writing about the phone too, lol.

Thank you for the prompt, and I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing is Bon/Rin because I can, lol.

— — — — —

You have four new messages and twelve saved messages.

New message:

"Ryuuji! How are you doing, son? Sorry I couldn't call earlier. We got the last of the melons harvested, and your mother wanted you to know when you're coming to dinner. She doesn't care that you're in Italy and—"

"He's got the key! What's the point of those things if he doesn't use them to visit?"

"—and we miss you. Stay safe, son, and don't over work yourself!"

Message saved.

New message:

"Hi Bon!"

"Hi Bon--"

"Shima, give me back the phone!"

*Crash*

"Ow! Koneko, that hurt!"

"Then listen. Bon, we got the papers from the Egyptian branch. We've got Shishamo working on a translation, but—"

"Why didn't you tell us they were cursed, man?!"

"Stop talking! Yeah, uh, they've got some kind of seal on them that no one recognizes. We had to bring in some people from the Vatican--"

"If you see Raphael, tell him to put our stuff on priority—"

"Shima! We'll try and keep you updated about it."

"Talk to ya later, Bon!"

"Stay safe!"

Message saved.

New message.

"Ryuuji! Whatever Redarm tells you, it isn't true. Also, I'm going to need you to send that report to Yang and Liu. I won't be in tomorrow, and if anyone asks... Well, get creative. I didn't do what they say I did. Brooks has no proof. And, uh, maybe let them know I was with you yesterday."

*Laugh*

"On the other hand, I did get that book, so you can finish the research. I'll drop it off tonight. Don't work too late."

Message deleted.

New message:

"Ryuuji! Guess what guess what guess what! I got the gig! I'm going to be in Italy next month! I'm gonna text you the flight info and hotel shit, and if you're not waiting in my room I'm gonna be mad. Don't make me hunt you down. Or—"

*giggle*

"—do. It might be fun. Hmm... anyway. I'm gonna go to sleep. Call me back when you can? I wanna hear you. This voicemail thing sucks. I miss you, babe. "

Message saved.

— — — — —

Bon got up with a stretch and rolled his neck to loosen his muscles. He climbed out of the bed, pulled on his running sweat pants, went to the bathroom to take care of the rest of his morning routine, and pulled out his phone as he blended himself a protein shake.

The phone rang twice before Rin picked it up. "Morning, babe!"

"Hey," Bon pulled the shake off the blender and went to grab his running shoes. "how's lunch?"

"Fantastic 'cause I made it."

"Yeah?" Slipping the shoes on, he put one hand against the wall for balance and pressed the phone between his ear and shoulder to hold it in place. "Describe it for me. I miss your cooking."

Rin laughed and the distance between them felt bigger for a moment. He hadn't seen Rin laugh in ages. They should just video call for this bit. Then he could see Rin's handsome face. Though... though that might just make the ache of longing worse. Not that he imagined it could get worse.

"You know," Rin managed around his laughs, "other couple talk about what they are or aren't wearing."

"I know what you're wearing, Rin, and most couples don't have a cook like you. Your food shouldn't be legal."

"You're just sayin' that." Rin sounded bashful now, and Bon could feel his lips lifting in a smile as he left his apartment and headed towards the trail he ran every moment.

"Nope, I'm really not. Now come one, tell me what fantastic thing you made."

"You're gonna get upset."

Bon pulled out his most indignant voice. "You didn't."

"I couldn't help it! I really missed ya since we didn't get to talk yesterday, and every time I smell it I think of you and I just kinda made it when I wasn't paying attention?"

"How dare you. I'm over here drinking a shitty shake and you're eating curry."

"A protein shake?" Rin immediately sounded unhappy. "You're gonna have something else after your run, right?"

There were a few other runners jogging down the path, but it was nearly empty this morning.

"Yes, Rin." He picked up speed, slowing his response a little as he tried to keep his breathing even. "Same as every day."

"Sweet potatoes?"

"Probably. Still got some of the ones you sent me. Tell me about the curry."

"You shoulda eaten those already. Have you been skipping meals?"

"Thought I was supposed to be the mother hen."

"Ryuuji!" Bon almost tripped at the unexpected shout and had resist the urge to cringe and shrink in on himself. He was going to be in trouble now. "You promised!"

"It's just a few lunches, babe. Just when I got a dead--"

"I'm gonna kill Lewin."

Guilt welled up in his stomach. There was worry in those words. Worry and anger, and it was such a stupid thing, but he knew how much Rin worried about eating habits. Especially after all the shit that happened with Yukio in school.

"It's not like that, promise. I'm getting better, and Lightning's pretty good about pulling me away to eat."

"I'm going to make you enough curry for a year when I get up there."

"I don't have that big of a fridge."

"I'll get you another one."

"I'd like to do more than just watch you cook."

Rin's voice immediately dropped into a way over exaggerated sultry whisper. "Yeah?"

Bon grinned and slowed down.

— — — — —

When his phone rang at seven pm, he was immediately worried. He picked it up before the second dial, pulling the pan off the stove and bringing the phone to his ear with a worried "Rin?"

"I wasn't sure if you'd be up," Rin whispered in the quiet way that made him sound scared. "Can't remember what time it is over there."

"It's seven. Not late at all." It was three in Japan. "Why are you up?"

Rin went quiet for a few minutes, his breathing loud but labored like he'd been gasping a moment ago. "Babe?"

"I slept like shit," he finally muttered. "Uh, some... you know. Dark shit."

Bon turned the stove off. The omusoba could wait. "Yeah? Wanna talk about it?"

Rin sighed and Bon could imagine him pulling a blanket around himself. "Kinda? But not really? I just... it's so damn quiet here."

Bon's heart ached. Rin had never lived by himself before this stupid assignment. It was either Yukio or him, and then Bon had got transferred over here for six months and Rin had been handling the new live alone status like a boss, but it still had to be hard.

"You'll be over here in a few more days, right?" He tried to make his voice reassuring but it was hard to make his voice suffice when all he really wanted was to wrap Rin up in a tight hug.

"I miss you," Rin admitted, "and I know it won't be forever, but I just... I started thinking about if you didn't come back and--"

"I am. I'm coming back in two months. I'm coming back and I won't leave again with out you. Not for this long."

When Rin spoke again he sounded a little happier. "Yeah? Promise?"

Bon didn't hesitate for a second. "Promise. Cross my heart." He leaned against the counter and wished he was closer. "I'm gonna finish setting up that office, and you're gonna make us dinner, I'll do the dishes, you'll make me eat lunch and I'll make sure the laundry is actually folded."

"I'm gonna cuddle you all night."

"You better."

Rin huffed out a breath. "You're still not gonna get me up for your run."

"As long as you're there when I get back, that's okay."

They lapsed into silence for a moment while Bon went to grab the rest of the ingredients for his dinner.

"Can you do the thing for me?"

Bon shut his fridge and wished there was a way to hug through his phone. "Sure thing, babe. Anything in particular you want to hear?"

"Day by day."

Bon closed his eyes and wished Japan wasn't so far away. "Day by day," he murmured, "we magnify thee." He recited the ancient hymn quietly until Rin's snores filtered through the phone.

He left his phone going, listening to the familiar sound until the battery died.

Two more months, and he'd be there to hold Rin after the nightmares. He could hardly wait.

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH 1.

This is a reader insert I originally started posting on AO3. I’m cross posting here because I know some of the fandom still lives here.

Quick Disclaimer:

This is a fic I'm writing for my own comfort.

I was inspired by RaeBees (you can check out their works over on Quotev and AO3), and how they characterize the "proxies". Having always seen the characters different than most of the fandom I've interacted with I never really shared my thoughts until now. This work is only placed in the Creepypasta tag so it reaches its demographic. However, I am fully aware of the fact that no main character is considered a Pasta.

It may also appear to lean more Toby X Protag in the beginning but end goal is protag with all three, and Brian and Tim already in a relationship. How I picture it now is a slowburn but Toby and Protag will be in a friends with benefits relationship before either has any feelings, so I think that counts. Some may be confused by the asexual protag tag but it'll be explained in story, as an Ace myself I get frustrated with media that only show one version and say it goes for us all. That being said I don't represent the whole Ace community but I hope to provide a bit more representation for some others out there.

Protag will be depicted as agender, and will have a few tics that stem from their Autism. Again I don't speak for any others with Autism but I hope to provide some representation for those in similar positions.

Tags will be updated as the story progresses. Canon-Typical violence and mental health issues are to be expected if you feel uncomfortable with those aspects I advise you to not engage. This story will also have a lot of NSFW themes and scenes so I highly discourage anyone under the age of 18 from viewing this work. You will get warnings on chapters with NSFW and I will make it skippable as well.

I'm also very nitpicky and gave the main characters birthdays just because it irritates me when it gets mentioned once and you have to do the math or imagine your own conversation when a birthday was too close to a character's.

Tim January 1st, home state Alabama

Toby April 28th, home state Virginia (saw this years ago no clue if it's accurate)

Protag May 13th, home state Virginia

Brian May 23rd, home state Alabama

Connor the service dog July 18th, home state Kentucky

I've referred to Protag as Protag here but in story they're referred to as YN.

Everything felt impossibly dull; your senses, the dark room you're currently in, the noise coming from the fan just to the left of the bed on which you laid. Turning to the window beside your head you stare out into that weird midnight summer sky. More of a gray than a true dark blue night, cast in an orange glow that made the night seem closer to day than it truly was. While the time was just half past twelve, you felt it may have been more accurate to say it was closer to four in the morning.

You're exhausted but that true sort of exhaustion where whatever energy you have left buzzes all around. It consumes your entire being, dances between being deafeningly loud in your ears to giving you twitches in your legs. You'd laid down hours ago thinking you'd be tired enough to sleep once your tics started to spasm in closer intervals, but to no avail were you able to rest. That buzzing preventing you from dreamland. Maybe the hum of your body was right, you didn't really need to sleep, you just wanted it to feel normal.

Knowing the battle had already been lost you push yourself off the bed and grab a pair of shorts off the floor. Slipping them on you contemplate your options for the night. Going into town was out since it was Sunday...well Monday now, but there would be nothing but bars open and you were never one for drinking. And as fun as a drive sounds right now, you feel the buzzing in your bones grow stronger, you need to move. A late night hike should keep you occupied, with it being so quiet and the middle of the night you wouldn't even have to take your headphones to cancel out the sounds of other people, you aren't likely to run into many people tonight.

Deciding on a hike you grab a mask and car keys and make your way to your yellow Kia Soul. A going away present from your parents that they gave you the moment you got your driver's license after your 24th birthday. Having anxiety throughout your life you'd never been in the head space to start driving till later on, and while you still don't enjoy driving you are pretty good at it even with your “late” start. Surfing through radio stations as you let the car warm up you find your latest obsession, it's a conspiracy theory podcast that someone in Kepler managed to blast through the limited air ways of the town. Impressive considering Kepler was in a radio quiet zone and even cell phones couldn't work in the small town, luckily you lived just outside of the zone so you could send texts and call your parents every weekend.

It seemed today's episode was a rerun, Mothman: Murderer, Man, or Myth. It was actually one of your favorites, the paranormal stories tended to be more entertaining than hearing about how a man could murder sixteen people while working as a cop ruining evidence to lead the others off his trail. Humans could be more vial and cruel than any little gray alien from the future or tall Fresno Nightcrawler could ever be. And they weren't as entertaining to hear about, nor were their exploits as impressive. You could always see patterns, either connecting clues first or finding connections no one else saw, it was never hard to tell where a certain case would lead so you'd always end up disappointed in humanity when they overlooked such obvious clues. Though that often led you down a path of deep diving for information to see just how obvious it was, more often than not you'd find that the most logical conclusion was shady public officers. After investigating so many cold cases you're sure if you're ever in trouble you'll never involve the police, in the end they'd probably just ignore you and rule your case closed if anything ever did happen to you.

'I'd haunt them if they did.' You decide and you shift gears and begin driving to the Monongahela National Forest, as the timeline of Mothman sightings and events play out before for your ears.

Instead of going through town and possibly loosing the signal of the show, you drive on the old dirt road that runs along the very edge of the town, partially covered in trees. This over grown road is the main reason Kepler doesn't see many visitors, the second someone makes their way onto it coming off the interstate they floor it until they see civilization. Over the few months you've been here you've nearly been run right off the road by spooked tourists, trying to escape whatever ghouls their wild imaginations created. The only real thing on this road was a mini mart gas station, and even though it was shady as hell the cashier didn't bug you too much when you came in in the dead of night. Plus they had a cat, how could you not stop in and say hi to little ole Magnolia?

Speaking of which you should probably get a drink for your hike, you could already feel your throat drying out. Turning into the parking lot you're happy to see no other cars around, putting your face mask on you make your way inside. As usual the store is dead at this time, and Ronnie is manning the desk. What's unusual is the man also behind the counter, he has dark brown hair that he's tied into a small and low ponytail, thick sideburns frame his face. You immediately take note of the slight imperfections of his face, most would see the slit in his eyebrow as following the current trend or even just a genetic thing, but you can see the slightly off color of a healed scar that starts just above his eyebrow and ends mid eyelid, he has a few smaller discolorations on his crooked nose, you'd guess he's had it broken at least twice.

Briefly taking a glance to his brown eyes before looking away, today is not an eye contact day. Nodding in their directions, the best acknowledgment you can give right now, you make your way to the freezers. From the freezer section you can hear Ronnie “explain” you.

“That's YN, a regular mainly at night though. A bit skittish and rarely ever says more than 'thanks have a nice day'” Even though she's whispering you can hear everything. Including the high octave her voice takes to mimic you, it feels more like mocking.

If being mocked hadn't already put you on edge the eyes boring into you have. The eyes may not be roaming over your body but the icky crawling of your skin sure makes it feel that way. The feeling of being put under a microscope has always made you sick, the stares, the leers and sneers, and the judgment just makes you want to implode on the spot. Cease existence, be swallowed into the abyss. You're about to set yourself into an anxiety attack with all these thoughts.

'Mask, mask, mask' you repeat over and over in your head, it's the only thing you can focus on. You are wearing a mask, there is one thing they can't perceive, the face is the most important for humans to perceive, your mask protects you.

Without looking you pull a water bottle from the cooler. You don't think you like this brand but the sports mouth makes up for it, and you can't focus enough to grab another. As the imaginary spiders crawl their way under your skin and your breath hitches you make your way over to the counter head down, never looking up at the employees beyond the counter. Your vision is blurring in time with the beating of your heart, you can't tell if it's due to nerves or from being up for five days in a row.

“Hey YN, how're you?” Ronnie asks, her tone is different from the past times you've been in. It's higher and has a lilt in it that you'd expect from a teasing friend. But Ronnie isn't a friend and has never spoken to you like this, you hate it. You nod to politely move on with the process, between the crawling of your skin and the buzzing underneath it you feel sick. And you're now very aware of the existence of your eyelids, you try to focus on ignoring that awareness. You need to move.

“Hmm, that's good. Anyway this is Tim! He's just started so go easy on him.” you hear the sound of a hand hitting fabric and assume she's patted Tim's shoulder as she introduced Tim to you. Why was she doing this, what purpose could introducing you two have? You nod again, was anyone going to ring you out?

“Hi, this all?” a deep voice asked, it isn't extremely deep more of a standard baritone that has a slight raspy quality, probably a reformed smoker. You don't smell cigarettes currently so he could've quit after years. Unfortunately despite your efforts to stave them off your blinking tics emerge. Making it difficult to keep your eyes open for longer than a nano second.

Startled and ticcing you look up and catch his eyes, you see pity in them, before casting your glance back to the counter. You can never tell what's worse people seeing you as weird or seeing you as something needing to be fixed. Nodding again, Tim tells you the total; a dollar fifty eight, and you hand him two dollars from your wallet.

Tim doesn't ask if you want the receipt or a bag, he prints out the receipt and hands you your change. The change goes immediately into the cat food fund for Magnolia. She got diagnosed with diabetes about a month ago and having worked in shelters and pet stores you know just how expensive her prescription food is. After folding the receipt into your wallet, Tim gently slides the water bottle over to you.

“Have a good night.” he says it so low and gentle, as if he thinks you'll shatter in front of him. As kind as the gesture seems, you aren't that fragile...or maybe you are if you have to keep repeating 'mask' over and over in your head to ground yourself. With a final nod you turn and make your way to the door, and just as you open it you hear Ronnie call out.

“Awwww, c'mon YN at least say 'Hi' to Tim.” You really don't like how she squeaked out 'hi'.

Taking a deep breath you prepare yourself, you'll show them both you can do this simple task. Even if you can't stop blinking long enough to see straight. Once you've steadied yourself you turn and look at Tim. He's sending you a look that says 'You don't have to' all that's missing is a slow head shake to complete his unease with this “peer pressure”.

But you can do this you can say 'Hi, Tim.' Two words super simple, nothing complex like 'Hi, Tim, nice to meet you.' and so much better than the option of your next meeting saying 'Hi, Tim. Sorry for spazzing out the other night.'. Yup you can do this just breathe, you open your mouth and...and you've forgotten what to say. Looking like a deer in headlights, well at least the tics stopped, you say the first thing that pops in.

“Mask.” You've said it loud and clear both cashiers heard you.

Tim stares with wide eyes and you see Ronnie failing to hide her laughter. Out of all the ways this could've gone this was probably the best outcome for her. The blinking has started up again, this time growing more frequent. You can't even hold your eyes open, to the two cashiers it must look like you're in pain or crying. And while you want to die of embarrassment, crying is a bit of an extreme for you.

So with red face and the inability to see you leave through the door, and try to make your way back to your car. Once in you lock the doors, switch the car on, and rest your head on the steering wheel. Out of every way this stop could've gone, being perceived by a new comer and Ronnie was not what you expected. While this hadn't been the worst five minutes or so of your life, it definitely would be another thing keeping you up at night for the next twenty years.

Calming down in the cool quiet dark of your car your slowly brought back to the world by the beginning of a new episode. This one talking about the Tailypo legend. A favorite story of yours from when you were a kid living on the coast of Virginia. So with yet another deep breath and the wave of nostalgia, you pull out of the parking lot and slowly coast down the old dirt road. Heading yet again for the Monongahela forest.

It's nearly two in the morning when you roll up to see an RV parked by the forgotten entrance of the park. It isn't surprising at all to find an RV out here since the Monongahela Forest is one of the most beautiful parks you've ever been to. You also don't think anything of them being parked by this unused entrance because you use it all the time since finding it accidentally. Figuring they just wanted to camp and be left to their own devices rather than use the RV sites and be bothered with other campers here for the summer.

Climbing out of your car you notice the RV isn't new by any means but it isn't a total rust bucket either, looks like it's been passed around throughout the years. There isn't anything to suggest it's been here a while, nothing left set up outside, must have just gotten into town then. You do happen to notice dog tracks around the sandy dirt you've parked in, good to know they have a dog before you slammed your car door. Closing the door gently behind you so you don't startle a pup and wake up it's owner or owners, you make your way through the woods. No real direction in mind, with no real thought in your head. Just the thought of moving and to keep on moving.

You could walk the same path every time you came through and always find something different. In fact that's exactly what happens, you're almost positive that you've deepened the imprint of the path just from walking through several times a week. Following the same winding path you usually do, climbing over the fallen tree, and through a scattering of blueberry thicket's you find yourself on the edge of one of the forest's many streams. It's your favorite spot in the forest so far, and about as far as you've gotten considering these hikes of yours take place during the dead of night.

The wind picks up and sends a chill through you, taking that as a sign you slide down to sit by the stream. Vans placed to your side as you sink your feet into the cool water. It's peaceful out here, so cool, and quiet, save for the slight noises the stream makes, various bubbling and drips. You try to think on things like your recent move, your job, the embarrassing 'mask' incident, just life in general. But you can't seem to form a single thought, this happens a lot, you've recently been conscious of the fact that you've been running on auto pilot for the past two months, hell a lot longer than that. You think everyone must get like this from time to time, but you think you've always been this way. Keen to dissociating and slipping in and out of existence.

It's quite nice really, except for the times like right now where you'd love to figure out why the silence in your head is so painfully loud. The more you think on it the louder it gets and the stronger the buzzing under your skin feels. And right now the static in your mind has been getting louder and louder for the past few minutes. You feel your head jerk to the right of it's own accord, moving back in place it happens for a second time, and then a third, then jerks up, before jerking a forth time to the right effectively cracking you neck.

“There we go.” you mumble, you can relax a bit as the verbal tic indicates the end of this round of tics.

Sighing you look at the sky...that can't be right. The sky has been painted it's fresh baby blues for the day, but again that can't be right. You just got to the stream, that path is a thirty minute walk meaning it should be just about two thirty in the morning, but the sky suggests it's five or six at the latest. Reaching for your water bottle you find it empty next to you. You didn't fall asleep you know that much, perhaps you did dissociate tonight. Well this hike was disappointing if you knew you were going to dissociate you'd have saved yourself that embarrassment and stayed home. Maybe done some painting or tidied up.

Sighing you push yourself off the ground, collecting you vans you're about to put them on when you notice a figure off in the distance. You freeze out of shock and stare at the figure, it stares back. The figure is about ten yards away, god your near sighted ass should really remember to not leave your glasses in the car when hiking. The figure starts to make it's way to you and after a few steps you realize it hasn't moved from it's spot. Rolling your eyes you ignore the hallucination.

You'd really needed to get sleep last night, today is day six of no sleep and though you haven't had many episodes these past few days, you have a feeling they'll start to get more prominent today. Hopefully tonight you can manage to get some rest, the longer you go without sleep the more realistic the hallucinations become. But for today you're content with the knowledge that it's just shadow like beings that you'll be seeing.

After putting on your shoes you start the thirty minute hike back to your car. You're thankful for the weather in Kepler, nothing like back on the coast. Here you can go for a morning hike through the forest while a gentle breeze passes by and the sun starts to give the area a pleasant warmth. Back on the coast you couldn't run and grab the mail without getting drenched in moisture from either sweat, humidity, or a mixture of both.  The coast sucks, hell Virginia sucks altogether, you're glad to be in Kepler.

“I want to go home, home.” you say out of nowhere.

Before you reach the entrance you hear barking, oh the RV campers must be up. Should you be careful not to scare them, or just walk normally and say 'Good morning' in passing, maybe just nod your head in greeting. Oh and you've stopped just beside the entrance as you got lost in your rambling. You didn't mean to come to a stop here, and as you try to move you notice how silent it's gotten. Did the dog go inside, maybe they've already passed...no it's too quiet for that. No the silence is oppressive like the one you deal with nightly, there's a reason for the silence. The situation's making you feel uneasy, but that could be the sleep deprivation talking.

You're about to brush it off and move when you hear a whispered, “Seriously man, I don't think anyone's out there. Let's get inside.”

There's a noise of agreement before you hear shuffling. Oh no, you zoned out and now you look like a weirdo stalker. Just perfect, maybe if you wait around a little more you'll seem more normal or at least feel normal. Not knowing how long to wait you walk along the tree line for a bit, looking at the ground as you do making sure you won't step on any snakes. In you quest to not step on any snakes you spot something suspiciously off white. It seems purposefully buried under a dead blueberry bush and some fallen branches.

Having listened to too many true crime shows, you know better than to implicate yourself in a murder. Grabbing a stick off the ground you gently brush the foliage away from the supposed corpse. No way, you can't believe your luck, it's an actual fucking skull. An intact skull of a deer! That is so cool, you've only seen taxidermists on TikTok getting so lucky and finding these dudes. Since the jaw bone is connected by tissue it of course isn't with the skull but maybe it's close by? Clearly this got planted or hidden by someone, maybe they were planning on pranking a friend by 'uncovering' a skull later. Oh well, finders keepers and all that, you have way better plans for this guy, hopefully you can find that jaw bone.

You set off searching through the foliage and near by bushes with the branch while holding the skull in your other arm. After searching about three feet around and finding no more bones you decide that this is the only part of the deer's skeleton in this area. A little disappointed but still thrilled with your find, you decide it must be a good time to go back to your car.

Surely you won't look weird now. You a little forager with their treasure in hand. Looks like you'll be busy cleaning, then bleaching, and cleaning these bones today. Is that the order to treat found bones? You aren't sure but you can look into that later. Placing the skull in the trunk so it doesn't roll about and get damaged you make sure it's secure before closing the trunk and getting into your car and locking the doors.

Not once did you notice the pairs of eyes that had been watching you. One watching as you found the deer skull, and the other set seeing you place bones into your car. They kept watching as you fiddled with the radio while the car was starting up. They watched as you pulled out of the sandy dirt lot and drove back down the old road a little faster than before now that you could clearly see.

[watchmegetobsessed]

The best present - Harry Styles

Sequel to UPDATE

on demand, this is a fluffy little sequel to update, hope you’ll like it! tagging the people who asked for said sequel: @urdadbtch​ @f-vasquezp​ 

word count: 3k

masterlist

Harry has a soft spot for surprises. Especially if he is the one planning them for a loved one. The overflowing joy he sees in one’s eyes upon receiving a carefully planned surprise just gives him a different type of satisfaction in life, one he couldn’t live without.

His life has taken a pleasant turn ever since Y/N entered it, virtually and in a real dimension. It hasn’t been the easiest with his hectic schedule and her anchored life in Spokane, but with some time paid to adjusting to the situation they managed to make it work. He wouldn’t have settled for anything else, because he just simply couldn’t imagine his life without her anymore and luckily she felt the same way.

Harry fell in love with her quicker than what it took for the weather to turn cold in the fall. It felt like the most natural thing that has ever happened to him, to fall for her whole being, everything that’s her on the inside and outside. Harry often caught himself thinking what he did in life to earn such a beautiful person in his life. He hasn’t figured that one out yet.

Y/N was like a warm summer breeze on a hot august evening, easily charmed anyone and everyone Harry introduced her to. She slowly but surely met some of the most important people in Harry’s life and he just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that it felt like she’s been part of his life since forever even on the first meetings.

“She is wonderful, I love her,” his mother told him when they finally had the chance to meet upon a weekend they spent in New York. It was a lucky time when both his mother and Y/N were free and he took the chance to cook up a mini vacation in the city right away. Anne was thrilled to meet the woman that had her son wrapped around her fingers even before meeting.

Harry felt like he was on the top of the world when he saw the two women get along like they’ve been friends for years, it filled his heart even more.

The situation was quite the same with Gemma, in just a blink of an eye they were making plans on their own not including Harry, which hit him a little hard in the chest, but he was happy knowing they found the common ground.

“You amaze me so much,” he once told Y/N when they were spending the night at her place, one of those weekends when Harry flew all the way to Spokane just to spend less than 48 hours with her. Even with the long flights and hustle that came with the traveling he wouldn’t have done it any other way. If he could see her smile for just ten minutes he would have travelled days.

“I do?” she asked smirking up at him, putting her book aside as she rested her chin on his tattooed chest.

“Mhm,” he hummed with a quirky smile. “In so many ways.”

“Write a song about them so I can listen to it,” she told him as a joke. Little did she know that not even a week later that’s exactly what Harry did. It was another addition to the endless list of songs she inspired.

December creeped its way around the corner faster than they were expecting and in a blink of an eye every store was filled with Christmas ornaments and wrapping papers, the most iconic Christmas songs were played everywhere, making those who work at retail want to throw Michael Bublé and Mariah Carey right out the window for every having the thought of recording Christmas music.

Harry and Y/N had plans for the holidays. They agreed on spending three days from 22nd to 24th with his family and then fly to Portland to be with her family from the 25th to 27th before they head to New York City to spend the last few days left from the year together and celebrate the new year at a party Harry was invited to.

These plans were set in stone right until Harry decided to surprise his lover with the best gift he could think about. It was a tough call and took him weeks to arrange but Harry was able to get Y/N’s brother to leave for the holidays earlier, on the 21st instead of just the 26th.

“Why are we changing it again?” Y/N asks curiously as she sits on Harry’s lap when they are changing their plane tickets so they could start the holidays at her family instead of his.

“Mom is not going to be home until the 24th,” he lies and then adds: “Gemma is also gonna only arrive on the 23rd. Figured it would work better. We would be at your parents’ from the 21st to the 23rd, go to the UK from 24th to 26th and there is an early flight so we would be in Portland by the time your brother arrives.”

He had spent a long time figuring out how to manage the dates so she wouldn’t be suspicious. Seemingly, it worked, because Y/N nods as she stands up and walks over to the kitchen.

“Alright. But isn’t that too much of a hustle to go back and forth two times?”

“Not that horrible,” Harry smiles in her way, his fingers moving fast on the keyboard to make the right changes for their trips before she returns and sees that the dates are not exactly the same as he told her. Luckily, she hops onto the kitchen counter as he finishes up and closes his laptop feeling ecstatic about the surprise he has planned for her.

“It’s gonna be busy,” she points out as Harry walks over to her, placing his hands on each side of her on the counter.

“But we will be busy together,” he grins leaning closer to steal a kiss.

As the days pass by Harry is growing more and more excited about the surprise. He almost slipped a few times upon talking about the holidays, but managed to save the situation just in time. Y/N had no idea what he had in store for her.

“That’s all your stuff for our trip?” Y/N asks when Harry arrives to her place with his decent, normal sized suitcase that has his essentials for the next about seven days while they will be on the road. He glances down at his bag before walking inside and setting it down in the hallway.

“Love, I’ve learned how to pack in a smart way,” he tells her teasingly before pecking her on the lips while he takes his coat off and hangs it in the hallway.

“Yeah, but it’s an entire week. I’m going with twice this much.”

“’Cuz you are packing for New York as well. We’ll be staying in my place, remember? I don’t need stuff for that time,” he reminds her and he is right, but she is still amazed at how he managed to fit everything he needs into just one suitcase.

That night Harry lies awake with her sleeping form next to him. Looking around the room he thinks about how this is the same place he fell in love with her, but it was through just a screen. All the plants, the furniture, the bed he saw behind her in the videos are now his reality as well and in just a few short months they have grown so close to each other, he couldn’t imagine his life in a different way.

“What’s the matter?” he hears her groggy voice coming from next to him and looking to the side he sees that she is blinking at him in the dark.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, turning to his side to face her, noses almost touching on the pillow.

“Then why aren’t you sleeping?” she asks, sneaking a hand to his back under the covers and she starts to gently stroke his skin with his fingertips, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Just… excited about the holidays,” he whispers with a shrug. He can’t tell her that he is excited to meet your family, especially your brother since he is kind of the reason you ever got the chance to meet. He feels like he is too worked up about meeting her parents and cousins, but he can’t wait to feel like he is part of her family. What he doesn’t know is that she already sees him as part of it, has been since she realized how deeply in love she is with him.

“Mmm, excited about your gifts?” she teases him with closed eyes, but her fingers are still moving on his back. Harry lets out a soft chuckle.

“Especially about those.”

He brings his arm around her frame and pulls her to his chest as they make themselves comfortable under the covers, legs tangled, her face resting on his chest as he gently strokes her arms, soothing her back into sleep.

“I love you,” he whispers thinking she has already fallen back asleep. It wasn’t the first time he has said the words to her, but tonight just feels a little different.

“Love you too,” she mumbles back pressing a kiss to his naked chest before she sighs and lets herself fall back into sleep.

 Her family knew about the change in Sammy’s arrival, but Harry made them promise they won’t say a word to Y/N, keeping it as a surprise.

Her mother welcomes the two of them with warm excitement, the house already smelling amazing from all the different cookies she’s been baking, the dinner is also in the making on the stove.

“Finally here!” she hugs both of them, even though she hasn’t officially met Harry, only talked to him on the phone about Sammy’s early arrival. “Come on in!”

The two of them get rid of their winter attire before Harry turns to her mother holding out a hand to make their first meeting official.

“So nice to meet ya, I’m Harry.”

Instead of taking his hand her mother pulls him into another tight hug that he returns with a soft chuckle.

“I’m so happy you are finally here! I’ve heard so much good about you,” she tells him with a sly, knowing smile while Y/N is not looking. “I can tell you are a blessing to the family already.”

“Thank you,” he nods smiling.

Harry meets Y/N’s dad and two of her cousins who have arrived earlier and they all gather in the living room just talking at first, then soon enough they start playing board games. They get stuck on Activity, the pairs are Y/N and Harry, her mom and dad, and her two cousins. The competition is burning up the house, Harry can tell they all take the game very seriously.

Through the game Harry keeps glancing out the window, waiting for a car to park at the driveway. He has sent a car to pick Sammy up, but since he didn’t have his phone on him just yet he couldn’t let Harry know when he would be arriving exactly.

Just after he is done drawing in one of the rounds he sees the black car pull up at the house. Harry pretends to get a call and he can see the excitement grow in her parents’ eyes as they already know what this means, while Y/N is oblivious to anything that’s about to happen. Harry quietly makes his way out of the house hoping he didn’t draw her attention, and that’s when Sammy gets out of the car thanking the driver for the ride. As he turns around Harry is stunned to see how much the two of them resemble. He sees her eyes in his, their ears curl the same way and he has the exactly same hair color as her. There was no doubt the two of them were related.

“Harry, right?” he asks holding his hand out firmly that Harry takes smiling.

“Yeah. Sammy, I supposed.”

“The one and only,” he chuckles holding his bag’s strap over his shoulder.

“I would love to chat more, but I think we should move inside first,” Harry suggests and Sammy follows him up the few stairs that leads to the front door.

“Harry! Come on, we are up next!” Y/N calls out from the living room as the two guys walk inside.

She is seated on the floor, her back to the hallway so she doesn’t see when the two men walk in, grinning from ear to ear. She only notices something is happening when she sees her mother gasp happily at the sight of her son.

“What—“ she starts but turning around her words disappear as she stares up at her brother who she hasn’t seen in what feels like ages.

Harry overflows with joy when he sees how shocked she is, in the best way possible. He watches her leap to her feet and jolt right at Sammy, throwing herself into his arms as he lifts her up, twirling her around in excitement.

“Hi there, little sis,” he chuckles still holding her close as she is fighting with her tears upon the surprise she just had.

“How… What are you doing here early?” she asks in total awe as she tries to comprehend that he is truly here, in her arms.

“Ask you boyfriend,” Sammy chuckles looking in Harry’s direction. “He arranged an early leaving for me, I don’t know how, but he did,” Sammy adds letting go of his sister.

As her parents make their way to their son Y/N moves over to Harry, still in complete disbelief that he did this.

“How?” she asks, arms snaking up around his neck while his hands get a hold of her waist.

“I have… connections,” he shrugs shyly and she just shakes her head laughing before she pulls him down for the sweetest thank you kiss.

“I can’t believe you,” she sighs pecking his lips once again.

“What I can’t believe is that he could keep it a secret this long,” Sammy speaks up.

“Wait, how long have you known this?”

“A couple weeks. Got it finalized early December,” Harry admits, feeling proud that he could make this happen.

“So this is why we had to change the tickets!” she gasps in realization. “When do we have to leave for real then?”

“We are staying until the 25th, our plane leaves in the afternoon,” he smiles warmly as he sees her eyes light up. According to the original plans they would have had only two days with Sammy at home, but this way it’s almost four entire days. “This was the most I could get, Love,” Harry adds, feeling a bit guilty that they are leaving to see his family, but Y/N shakes her head.

“This is absolutely perfect. You gave me the best present,” she smiles cupping his face in her hands as she pulls him down for another kiss.

This Christmas goes down as the best one she has ever had. The time they spend with her family holds a special place in her heart, especially because she loves seeing her family and Harry get along so well. She now knows what he felt when she met his mother and sister. Seeing him be so kind to her mom and have loads of things to talk about with her dad and brother warms her in a way only Harry can make her feel.

The feeling doesn’t change when they arrive to his home. She feels like she is part of the family just as much as he is. They spend some splendid days with his extended family, enjoying the spirit of the holidays and she is almost sad when it’s time for them to leave.

“Come back soon, Sweetheart,” Anne tells her when they are saying goodbye at the airport.

“I will, if he is okay with bringing me next time,” she chuckles glancing at Harry by her side.

“Oh I sure am, Love,” he smiles kissing the top of her head.

Those couple of days they spend together in the city holds memories they will surely never forget. They finally get to spend time together without anything interrupting them, just enjoying the little moments, falling deeper in love with each passing day.

The last day arrives in a fast pace and neither of them can believe the year is ending so soon. They spend the day in bed mostly before it’s time to get ready for the party one of Harry’s friends is hosting in Manhattan.

It’s a nice way to end such a wonderful year, they mix and mingle with the guests but keep each other close, especially when they reach the last minutes of the year left. Harry takes her hand and pulls her out to the balcony to have some privacy before the countdown.

“Crazy how we are here,” he sighs as his arms are wrapped around her figure, warming her body as much as he can in the New York City winter time.

“Who would have thought?” she chuckles placing a sweet kiss to his jawline.

“Not me,” he admits laughing. “But I’m glad it’s my reality now.”

Y/N smiles up at him with gratitude in her eyes, just when the countdown starts inside.

“Have you ever had a New Year’s Eve kiss?” Harry asks as he pulls her closer, if that’s even possible.

“Sadly, I have not.”

“Then can I have the pleasure to be your first?” he smirks down at her and she just nods biting into her bottom lip.

“Three! Two! One!” the guests call out inside as the whole city erupts at the same time, fireworks go off and cheering echoes through the building, but it all fades into nothing as Harry leans down and kisses her sweetly. They spend the first couple of moments of the new year melted together until they pull back for air. The crispy winter air has turned his nose red quickly and she is lost in how adorable but handsome he still manages to look.

“Harry Styles,” she sighs feeling defeated by her own feelings. “You are one wonderful creature, you know that?” she wonders, as if she was saying her inner thoughts out loud. Harry chuckles as he presses a kiss to her forehead.

“That makes the two of us, Love.”

I’m opening a Harry taglist, let me know if you are interested in being on it!

[ggukkieland]

📕CURRENT READS (2020 October)

🌹 Fics I’ve enjoyed reading this October, with some few unread ones (still have 4 to 5 days to finish!). Waah I have read a lot 😲 I can’t believe I’m almost complete with this list 🥳. Usually when I post and organize the list, half of it are still on #toread status. I thought of curating Halloween-themed fics 🎃 but I ended up reading any genre anyway���.

Again, credit goes to these awesome writers! Sending them lots of love and virtual hugs 🥰🤗💜🥰🤗💜🥰🤗 .

✅ -  done reading   | S (smut) F (fluff) A (angst) 

🥕[Ongoing Series - to check weekly] 

Still reading the ongoing series from last month’s reading list, whenever there is an update 😊

I Feel You in my Heart by @purpletaecup - MYG |  exes au, second chances, some chapters have smau elements | A, S, F (really good story development 😭)

[7/?] nearly 2 months after their divorce, yoongi and y/n wade through the aftermath of the fallout by themselves. yoongi is moving on with someone else while y/n finds herself stuck in waves of anxiety and depression. soon enough, they are brought together again by an unfortunate accident

If it Harms None, Do What You Will by purpletaecup - JJK | smau, comedy, supernatural au, fantasy au, witch!reader, demon!jungkook | F, S  🎃

[6/?] it’s the beginning of October and green witch y/n has been preparing for all of the spooky activities she needs to do for all hallow’s eve. one of her older friends gives her a ritual candle for protection. a couple of drops of blood and a wonky magic circle later, there is a high level demon sitting on the floor of her living room.

We Live with a Ghost by @smaubts - JJK | smau, comedy, ghost au, roommates au | F  🎃

[6/13] when jungkook convinces his roommate, y/n, that their house is haunted by an evil ghost, they decide their best option is to contact with it and make it leave but end up summoning an actual ghost by accident.

Swan Black by CharWrites [AO3] - JJK | fantasy, supernatural, enemies to lovers, dark fantasy, apocalypse, Fae!Jungkook, Fae!Yoongi, Fae!Taehyung,  LOTR/Mortal Instruments/Labyrinth vibes | A, S (I love this! It’s like watching LOTR 😍)  🎃

[10/?] So's twin brother, Jimin, has been kissed by darkness: an evil that has spread across the land and has claimed many souls. They only have weeks until the darkness consumes him. Once consumed, he will be governed by the unsullied: a powerful race of Dark Fae that has overtaken the world.

So seeks out a rogue Fae Prince, Kook, who is her only hope, if she can survive his deadly charms and irresistible lure especially when he is much more interested in possessing her, mind body and soul.

Third Wheeling by @taetaewonderland - MYG |  strangers to lovers au, ceo!yoongi | A, F, S 🥰

[1/?] Min Yoongi is a strict man. Time is money to the CEO of Kisung Connected. He isn’t interested in conventional things or wastes of time. He’s an asshole. But, you didn’t realize until it was too late. Until you met him at the club and it changed your life forever.  

Bad Friends by @hollyxqx- MYG | friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, neighbor au, college au, fwb au | A, S, F (what a good angst 😥)

[1/3] hooking up with your childhood best friend was never your plan, but neither was falling in love with him either. he’s troubled but his heart is gold. when you move away for college, things start to take a turn.

House of Lilies by @suqakoo​ - JJK | mafia au, arranged marriage au | A, F, S

[3/?] Jeon Jungkook is the only heir to Dal Gurimja. He is the poster child for mafia bosses. He’s a feared hit-man among the underground world, and a successful CEO among the socialites of Seoul. Pair him with a castaway girl who’s been out of society for twelve years, and… what do you get?

Your Eyes Tell  by @njkbangtan - JJK | soulmate au, enemies to lovers au, roommates au, sugar baby (but not really), slow burn | A, F

[5/?] You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It’s simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if…Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?  

I hate u, I love u by @bbangpanmen - JJK | fwb au, friends to lovers au, smau | A

[17/23] he uses you to forget her; you let him because you love him.

Puzzle by @kimvvantae - JJK | fwb au, friends to lovers au, college au | A, S, F (I’ve read this before, around 2018-19 and I thought it was discontinued. Glad there’s an update ^_^)

[7/?] the line between friendship and something more has never been crossed  - but that changes after a break up and a drunken night, when you not-so-accidentally cross this line to something much more. what happens when after this accident your non-matching puzzle pieces seem to match in a way you’ve never imagined?

The Lesson/Min Boy by @adventuresinwonderlust - MYG | bad boy!yoongi, dom-sub elements, enemies to lovers, brat!reader | S, A, F

[6/8] No summary provided but it’s the twisted story between bad boy Yoongi with angsty backstory and this brat/rich kid. I really liked how it was written though.  I made a mistake of reading part 4:  Two Months Too Long, which should’ve been the 6th story to read if you follow the author’s sequence. 

Popular-ish by @hansolmates - JJK | popular!jungkook, college au, fwb to lovers, shy!oc | F, S, A

[9/?] drabble series: you are way out of jungkook’s league. Or is it the other way around?

Date Me by @latetaektalk - JJK | enemies to lovers, fake dating au, rich kid au | A, F,

[prologue + 1/?] when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.

All Over You by @zibermuda - JJK | enemies to lovers, nerd!jk, fuckgirl!reader | S, F 

[2/?] you don’t usually go for the quiet, nerdy type, but Jungkook’s by far the best looking guy in your year. You just can’t help yourself. You have to have him. Small hiccup; he hates you

Effortlessly by @gyukult - JJK | friends to lovers, neighbors au, 

[8/?] “Reciprocate feelings?” Jungkook crosses his arms before he continues, “They should know that you’re the only girl in my life.“ Jungkook has been your best friend and neighbor since you could remember, but what you can’t recall is when your feelings began develop for him. 

HEI$T: A JJK Fic by lucidly [AO3] - JJK | heist au, action, bangtan are thieves, vigilante au | A, S

[3/?] Six years after being thrown into the world of forgery, espionage, and heists, Mona and her team face competition like never before: The Bulletproof Boy Scouts, a fabled Korean gang of thieves that everybody seems to know, but no one has seen. When she comes face to face with all 7 of them, Mona knows: they're real, and this job won't be like the others. For years she has followed the money, but could it be time that she follow her heart instead?

🥕[Completed AUs/Series-  to read]

✅  - done reading (also there seems to be a lot of JJK fics)

Creep @xjoonchildx - MYG | S, pwp, yandere ✅

Guilty @xjoonchildx - KNJ | A, S, mafia au, second part of Guarded AU (an awesome JHS series) 

Chapter One: How Odd  Chapter Two: Incheon Mall Tube Tops  Final Chapter: Is Something Burning?  Epilogue: Better Than Okay

Paddle with Me @yoongs-jeontae - JJK | A, S, enemies to lovers, camp counselor au, pwp   ✅

Hate Me @themfchase - JJK | S, collegel!au, enemies to lovers au, fuckboy!jk, pwp  ✅

Devil in a Blue Suit @yeojaa - JJK | F, S, idiots to lovers, established au, good boy!jungkook  

main story  ✅ + drabbles  ✅

Sweetest Crush @minjoonalist - JHS | F, S, brother’s best friend au 

Fake Love @aquaminwrites - JHS | F, S, A, fake dating au, enemies to lovers  ✅

Faded Love @jamaisjoons - PJM | A, S, marriage au, infidelity ✅

Brown-Eyed Baby @vinterjeon - JJK | A, S, F, exes to lovers, single dad!jk 

01 02  ✅

Why We Got Married @ktheist - KTH | F, S, arranged marriage au, slow burn ✅

Lonely Hearts Club @dovechim - JJK | S, F, enemies to lovers, wedding au  ✅

Come to Me @jeonsweetpea - JJK | S, A, F ,friends to lovers, college au  ✅

Satan on the Strip @noir0neko - JJK | S, A, demon!jungkook  ✅  🎃

No Face @seokoloqy - MYG | A, S, F, demon au, supernatural au  ✅  🎃

Take a Chance @crystaljins - JJK | A, Hanahaki au, co-workers, very angsty but Seokjin provides comic relief

01 02 03 04 05 06 07  ✅

The Lottery Offering @skswriting - JJK | A, F, S, werewolf au, sort-of arranged marriage au  ✅

A Beautiful Epiphany @onherwings - JJK | A, S, F, friends to lovers, unrequited love, artist!jungkook  ✅

Au Naturel (sequel) - drabble, established au  ✅

Broken Dreams @ddaenysus - JJK | A, soulmate au, unrequited  ✅

And Mended Hearts (sequel) - A, S, soulmate au, college au   ✅

Coin Toss @yoondoze - JJK | A, mafia au, detective au, exes au, plot twist 👀  ✅

I Knew It Was You @hoseokmylovesworld - JJK | S, F, werewolf au, college au  ✅ 🎃

Little Blue @pars-ley - JJK | F, S, friends to lovers, college au, with TW   ✅

Little Blue Pill @dreamescapeswriting  - JJK | S, pwp, friends to lovers ✅ 

Smitten @megahwn - JJK | F, S, arranged marriage au, strangers to lovers au   ✅

Hit Me with Your Best Shot @namfine - JJK | S, pwp, martial arts, friends to lovers  ✅

Slow and Steady @yoonia - JJK | S, A, artist!jungkook, infidelity, established au   ✅

Cockblocked @mercurygguk - JJK | A, S, F, friends to lovers, roommates au  ✅

 everything I ever wanted (drabble) - morning after  ✅

What are you Afraid Of? @cupofteaguk - JJK | F, avatar the last bender au 

Part 2 (prompt: if you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed) - avatar au, F, S

demon-etized @jungkxook - KNJ | S, youtube au, ghost hunter au  🎃

Spellbound @jeonseok - JJK |  F, slight S, demon au, crack, romcom  ✅ 🎃

Raising Demons (sequel) - fluffy, smut, established au, crack  ✅ 🎃

What’s in a Name? @minsimagines - JJK | A, F, demon au, soul selling scenario, romance  

01 02 03 ✅  🎃

The Big Yellow School Bus  [15k] fringesofsanity [AO3] - JJK | S, A, F, noona, fwb au  ✅

once bitten, twice shy [5.6k] obiwrites [AO3] - JJK | A, F, implied S, exes au, parents au   ✅

Lose Somebody [26k] @kooala - JJK | A, F, slight S, exes au, camping au  ✅

Oh What a World [100k] @taestybae - PJM | A, S, F, fake marriage au, fallen idol au (been wanting to read this since July (!), will finally get to reading this 🥰)

series masterlist [18 chapters + epilogue]

🥕[Drabbles]

okay I just realized they’re all JJK drabbles 😅

Incandesce @eunoiabliss - 544 words | JJK | fantasy au, fluff  ✅

Forgetful Confession  @suhdays - 991 words | JJK |  fluff, slight angst, college au, friends to ???  ✅

Club @taleasnewastime - 2k | JJK | fluff, bestfriends  ✅

JJK Reincarnation drabble @ktheist - 571 words | JJK | F, reincarnation (?) | love love this 🥰  ✅

Pup @whipped-for-kpop-fics​ - 1.5k | JJK | F, humour, werewolf au, established au | this is cute and funny 🤣  ✅

A Line Crossed @underthejoon - 723 words | JJK | A, bodyguard au ✅

Rousing Rendezvous @rookiegukie - 1.5k | JJK |  smut, frenemies with benefits, modern royalty au  ✅