#divider by jilval

[tilebytiles]

when the sun goes down - a.t. (part 1)

summary: your favorite barista is ... a vampire? word count: 5k warnings: animal death, mild violence

You didn't like going to the café near your flat much. For one, finding the energy to even drag yourself out of bed was difficult most days, but topping that off with interacting with and being surrounded by complete strangers? It was like a circle of Hell reserved for the socially inept and the painfully anxious. Still, you couldn't deny that the barista that made your drink nearly every time you did go there made it worth it.

You were pretty sure his name was Alex; you had never thought to read his name tag properly, since you thought it would be weird if you barreled in, going, "Hey, Alex, get me that mocha latte! And make it with oat milk!" However, the brief glimpses you'd gotten out of the corner of your eye told you his name, if it wasn't Alex, for sure started with an A. Andrew? Anthony? Adam? Aidan? Alan? None of those really fit him, and the first two didn't even seem like they'd fit on his name tag. Alex seemed the most appropriate.

It wasn't like you two had spoken beyond formalities. You came in, exchanged the usual greetings, recited your order, and then he asked for payment and called your name once your coffee was ready. That was the most you ever spoke to one another. You, being so socially awkward that even your therapist cringed on your behalf sometimes, could never work up the courage to go beyond the script you two had developed. You wanted to - he seemed interesting. His hair sat a bit shaggily on his head, getting in his eyes sometimes and only being restrained by the hat all of the baristas had to wear. He had big brown eyes and arguably one of the prettiest smiles you'd ever seen.

The barista that was possibly named Alex had been the subject of a number of artworks, some being simple sketches and some being full-fledged paintings. There had been a couple of times where you'd gone to the café just to study him. You were aware it was all probably quite creepy, but in your defence, he was an easy subject to study and also your favourite. Everyone was made differently, you were well aware, but you didn't think you'd ever seen anyone that looked like him. The fact that he was so unique made you want to devote entire sketchbooks to studies of him. Besides, no one except you ever saw the pages of your sketchbooks or the canvases lying around your flat, so it wasn't like you were trying to get attention from his likeness. It was mostly just for your own enjoyment.

"Y/N?" The sound of your name being called made you jump a bit, and the pen you'd been mindlessly sketching with jutted across the paper awkwardly. You dropped the pen onto your sketchbook and got up from your table, heading to the counter. As you approached, you made sure to read his nametag this time - it was Alex.

You took the portable cup from him, and even with the sleeve it sat in, it still warmed your previously cold hands up. Your name was scrawled on the sleeve in the handwriting you'd come to recognise rather quickly. You smiled at him. "Thank you. You could have just left it on the counter, you know."

He returned your smile and shook his head a little. "Nah, it's alright," he said. "I just don't want a repeat of the time your coffee almost got stolen."

Brief glimpses of Alex trying to get the attention of the customer that had taken your coffee, mistaking your name for hers, without being any louder than he had to flashed through your mind, and you had to stifle a laugh. You'd felt bad for him - you could tell he wasn't the greatest in social situations, either, even as a barista, and since he couldn't really leave his spot behind the counter, he was left awkwardly calling, "Ma'am? Um, ma'am, excuse me - ma'am?" until she finally turned around and realised he was talking to her.

"So," he said, shifting his hat atop his head, "will you ever show me what's in that sketchbook?"

He'd seen you with it before, and he'd asked about it, too. You had been vague every time, too embarrassed by the idea of him opening it just to find dozens of sketches of his face from all angles. There were a few full-body sketches, and you used those to draw out different outfits on him; you wondered what he'd look like in a suit, or clad in leather, or in a cosy jumper. You imagined him in different poses, too; crouching, kneeling, sitting thoughtfully with his head in his hand, leaning against a wall. Some of the sketches had the privilege of being coloured in, but the rest were just line drawings with some shading.

You sighed. "Probably not."

His lower lip jutted out in what you guessed to be a pout. "Why not?"

"It's not very interesting. I don't know why you want to see it."

"Because I'm sure you're a great artist."

You snorted at that. "Just drop it, please."

He didn't. Instead, his pout only seemed to intensify, and his eyes practically glimmered in the light. You couldn't tell if they were just naturally that way, or if he was about to start crying. "Please?"

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, trying to fight his pleading, but it was no use. You groaned and said, "Fine."

His face did a complete 180, and he practically beamed at you. "Thank you."

You quickly looked away before you started staring.

You remained in the café for the rest of the day, something you’d only done once before. It felt a bit strange to watch customers come and go, come and go, come and go, and then just go. About twenty minutes before closing, you began packing up your things to head home. You hadn’t brought much; just your bag, your sketchbook and a few different pens. Your coffee cup had long since been drained, and you made sure to throw it away before heading out the door, a small chime signalling your departure.

You made a swift left and went down the sidewalk, subconsciously avoiding any cracks you encountered. Sometimes, you counted how many steps it took to cross one square, although you weren’t sure why you did it. You weren’t very far from the café, however, when you heard a metallic thumping. The sound made you turn, but when you looked around, you couldn’t immediately see anything wrong. You were about to dismiss it when you heard it again. It was coming from the dumpster by the café.

You knew there was the chance for you to become something out of a horror film; a ruthless killer would jump out from behind the dumpster and stab you to death, then throw your body in, and eventually, you would end up compacted into a trash cube like the ones in Wall-E and no one would ever find your body. Despite that, you approached anyway, albeit rather slowly. You figured if you didn’t rush over, you’d have more time to see if there was a killer waiting with the feasting mice. Your shoes were virtually silent as they moved along the asphalt lot. You heard a faint snapping sound, like bones breaking, which made you cringe.

When you got close enough, you could make out a figure that was crouched down beside the dumpster, turned away from you. You squinted at them and studied their attire … the knot of what you guessed was an apron, pressing into their lower back … an unruly mess of hair that swept against their shoulders … wait. “Alex?”

The figure froze and turned to face you. It was Alex, but something was very, very wrong. There was a dead mouse in his hands, the white fur of its neck stained red with blood. Blood was smeared on his hands and around his lips, and glinting in the light of the nearby street lamp were two perfectly pointy fangs. Your eyes widened, and every synapse in your brain seemed to fire at once, screaming at you in a ghastly choir to get the hell out of there. You remained stuck in the same spot, though, with you and Alex just staring at each other.

You finally opened your mouth to scream, and Alex jumped up, dropping the mouse. “Don’t,” he said in a low voice. The seriousness that coated his features now, creasing his brow and darkening his eyes, scared you so much that your mouth immediately snapped shut. He sighed and looked down at his hands. He moved to wipe them on his apron, then seemed to think better of it and held them awkwardly away from his clothes. “I know this looks bad.”

“Of course it does!” you hissed. “What are you doing?”

“Uh.” He looked off at the street, watching a car as it sped by. He was still tucked away in the shadows of the building, meaning only you could see him. “If I told you,” he said slowly, his gaze sliding back over to meet yours, “you wouldn’t believe me.”

You released something that was between a scoff and a laugh. “And I’m just supposed to pretend I didn’t just see you covered in blood with a dead mouse in your hands?” He nodded slowly. You wanted to smack him. “I’m not leaving until I get some answers.”

He sighed and nodded, looking down at the asphalt. “Fine. I’m a vampire.”

You blinked. “A vampire,” you repeated slowly. “But … I thought vampires killed people.”

“We can. Some do. I don’t.”

“So you feed on the mice instead?”

He nodded. “I don’t feel great doin' it, but it’s the only way I can survive.”

“Right.” You tried to keep your voice level, but you still wanted to scream. You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs and run down the road, flailing your arms, and if you accidentally got hit by a car in the process, would that really be so bad?

“I need you to promise me something.”

Your jaw worked slowly. You wanted to be snarky and demand something in return, but you were too nice to try and blackmail him. “What?”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“I was totally planning on telling my therapist,” you replied sarcastically.

The joke drew a small chuckle from him, but the hint of a smile that came with it was instantly gone again. He sighed and tilted his head back, looking up at the endless void of stars. “I’m sorry, really. I … I hate when people find out like this.”

That caught your attention. “This has happened before?”

“Not exactly like this, but my, um, my friend, he - he found me with a mouse in his flat. It had gotten caught in one of those wooden mouse traps, and I hadn’t fed in a couple of days by then, and I felt weak, so I took it out and … and then he came in. He was nice about it, but, you know, it still sucks.”

“Was that a pun?”

He blinked and lowered his head to look at you. “You know, I hadn’t even realised when I said it.”

"Right. So ... how long can you go without feeding?"

He looked off towards the road again, seeming to think about it. "A few days at most, maybe. I eat normal food, but if I don't get blood, it's like ... dyin' of dehydration."

That made you wince a little. You'd always heard of how terrible dying of dehydration was, and you felt bad knowing that was basically what he was at risk of all the time. It wasn't like he could go around and kill mice every day, and he seemed reluctant to go after anything else. "Are your friend and I the only people that know?"

He shook his head, still staring at the road. Another car sped by. "My parents know, along with a couple more friends of mine. You're the only stranger that knows."

"Am I really a stranger if you've made my coffee for months?"

That made him smile again, and this time, it stuck around longer than the previous one had. "That's true. I know you hate regular milk, you love lattes, and you never order iced coffee 'cause you're cold all the time."

You were surprised he'd even remembered you nervously rambling about that once. That wasn't important, though. You let out a quiet sigh. "It ... it's getting late. I should head home. Will you ... be alright?"

He finally looked at you again and nodded. "I can get myself cleaned up just fine."

You nodded. "Okay, um ... goodnight, Alex."

"Night, Y/N."

You slowly turned and began to walk back to the sidewalk, your mind still reeling from all the information you'd just received. When you glanced back to see if Alex was still there, he was already gone, and the mouse had been left near the dumpster.

•••••

Lucky for you, you had therapy the next day.

Your leg bounced anxiously as you sat in the waiting room, nestled into the far right side of one of the leather sofas. Your elbow dug into the arm of the sofa, and you had your head in your hand while you stared out the window, observing all the passersby. You saw a man on a bike; a woman with a child; a couple, holding hands as they went; two girls chatting and presumably laughing (you couldn't hear them) that you were 99% certain you went to uni with. All sorts of people passed by the window every time you were here, and it was slowly getting to the point where you could pick out the ones that made this sidewalk part of their regular route.

"Y/N, you can come on in, I'm just gonna pop off to the bathroom first," your therapist said, making you turn your head. You watched as she walked across the waiting room and into the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind her with a soft click. Her name was Mary, and she'd been your therapist for the last two years. Initially, you were hesitant and reserved with her, having never done therapy before and being unsure of exactly how much you were supposed to share - revealing personal details about yourself to a complete stranger scared you, anyway, even if they were there to help you. She was understanding, though, and after a couple of fluke sessions where you didn't say much, you finally began to step out of your shell with her. Initially, you'd thought you'd only do it for a few months and then cope with the rest yourself, but it turned out that your brain was like the world's biggest jumble of cords and it would take a lot more than a few months to unravel it. Two years later, and there were still some rather stubborn knots that needed taking care of.

You pushed yourself up off the sofa and walked out of the waiting room, heading down the hall and into the first door on the left. The office was an old house that had been bought and remodelled, meaning that every room had a homely feel to it. Mary's office was no exception; in fact, you were convinced the at-home feel was entirely her idea. There was a sofa pushed up against the wall the door was in with a couple of throw pillows on it, and across from it was Mary's desk. There was also an armchair directly across from the door that she sat in during your sessions; she only sat in her desk chair when she was scheduling your next appointment. There was a window that let you see out onto the street, and a tall plant of some sort beside it; her degrees were framed and hanging up on the wall above her desk; she had a number of pictures, both on the wall, on her desk, and on the bookshelf that was beside the sofa; and in the center of the floor was a fuzzy circle rug that you wanted to run your hands through. You never did, though.

You plopped onto the sofa, sitting in the center this time, and lifted your legs up, crossing them beneath you. You waited a couple of minutes, and then Mary came in, shutting the door behind her with the same gentleness she'd shown the bathroom door. She grabbed her teal-coloured tumbler and sat down in the armchair, smiling at you. "How have you been?"

You thought back to what you'd seen the night before and quickly tried to shove that memory out of the way; you might have joked to Alex about it, but you were absolutely not telling your therapist the barista you had a small crush on was a creature of the night. "I've ... been pretty good," you said slowly.

She rose an eyebrow at your hesitancy, but didn't say anything. "Have you been working on getting out of your flat every day?"

You nodded. "It's helped my mood a lot, surprisingly."

"Well, I wouldn't tell you to do something if I didn't think it would help." She offered you another smile, then asked, "And the nightmares?"

You tensed up a little and looked down at the fuzzy rug, wishing now more than ever that you could lie facedown on it and never get back up. "They've gotten worse recently. I'm not sure why."

"Has anything happened?"

You quickly racked your brain for any potential triggers and slowly shook your head. "Not that I can think of."

"Any additional stress?"

"No."

"Hmm." She sat back in the armchair and took a sip of her drink, glancing out the window. "What are they about?"

There it was. The question you'd been secretly dreading. "It's like ... I'm stuck in a building, and I can't get out."

"Describe the building."

"It was ... it was kind of old looking, at least inside. It reminded me of one of those old Victorian houses. The walls were a dark red, and there weren't many lights. It was like a maze. I kept running through halls and making different turns, but no matter what I did, I couldn't get out."

"And then what?"

"I ran into him again."

"The tall man?"

"Yeah." The man that had been appearing in your nightmares with increased frequency over the last few months or so was only referred to by you and Mary as "the tall man." You couldn't recognise him at all, but every time you saw him, he terrified you. And then you'd wake up. The first time you'd mentioned him to Mary, she grew worried that he was from a traumatic event you'd blocked out. You didn't think he was, but his recurring presence in your sleep still scared you. Sometimes, you wondered if you were just going insane.

Mary sighed. "I still worry it's from trauma, Y/N."

"I don't know," you said. "If it was, I feel like I would have nightmares about the same thing. I don't, though. Every time he shows up, it's in a completely different place."

"Did he say anything this time?" You shook your head. "Right." She looked down at the rug, chewing on the inside of her cheek, and then looked back up at you, managing a small smile. "What about that boy?"

You blinked. "That ... boy?"

"You know! The one from the café? How are things going with him?"

Ah. Alex. "Well, I mean, he makes my coffee. Uh ... he asked about my sketchbook yesterday."

"And what did you say?"

"I said no."

"Y/N!"

"What? I don't need him thinking I'm a creep!"

"I think he would be flattered," she said with a shrug. "It's not every day that someone gets whole sketchbook pages dedicated to them."

You looked away as your cheeks flushed. You had to admit, you'd had that exact line of thinking before, but you could never convince yourself of it. You got the feeling that the flattery would take the backseat in comparison to the creepiness of it all. It felt stupid and weird to even have a crush on him in the first place (you were barely willing to admit you had a crush on him at all); you two only spoke to each other because you had to. If anything, maybe he found you annoying. Maybe he didn't like how often you'd started coming in accordance with Mary's "get out of the flat" regime. Maybe he hated making your coffee. Maybe he hated you. Now that you knew he was a vampire, maybe he'd break his no-humans rule and kill you and suck all the blood from your body until you were nothing but a lifeless husk.

"Earth to Y/N."

"Huh?" You looked at Mary, who just smiled and shook her head. "Sorry, did you say something?"

"You zoned out on me. I was starting to think you'd never come back into orbit."

"Oh ... sorry."

She shook her head again. "It's fine. I was just saying that I think you should try and talk to that boy more often."

"But I only ever see him at the café."

"Then work out a way to meet up with him outside of work."

"I don't know."

"You need the social interaction. Your resolution this year was to be less of a hermit, right? You can't really do that if you don't talk to anyone."

You knew she was right. She tended to be. "Fine," you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. "I'll talk to him the next time I see him. But what should I say?"

"Try to find common ground. Figure out his interests and go from there."

The rest of your session went about as smoothly as any therapy session could go, and your next appointment was exactly three weeks out. Although you were tempted to just head straight home, you decided to finally bite the bullet and get the conversation with Alex over with. You weren't sure how stable any friendship you might form with him could be, considering you knew his darkest secret before you knew his last name, but you tried to remain optimistic. You took the bus to the stop that was closest to the café and forced yourself to take a couple of deep breaths to keep calm before walking inside.

The café wasn’t that busy, which immediately made the tension in your shoulders lessen. There were a few people already in line, though, so you slowly made your way to the counter, suddenly finding it impossible to stand still. Your eyes darted to every crevice of the café they could possibly reach, although you avoided looking at any faces on the off chance someone would look at you at the same time and you’d have to awkwardly look away. When it was finally your turn, Alex looked up from the till, his face falling slightly. “Y/N. What can I get you today?”

Fuck. He was already annoyed that he had to deal with you after last night. “Uh, just the usual, please.”

“Will that be all?”

Yes. “No.” What? “Uh, I wanted to ask, um …” He stared at you, waiting for you to finish, and you blurted out, “What do you like?” Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Maybe today was the day you’d run into traffic.

His brows knitted together as he seemed to process what you’d just said. You wanted to sink into the floor. “You wanna know what I like?” he asked slowly. You nodded. “Alright, well, uh, I think the croissants are pretty … swell. I like the cakes, uh-“

“No,” you interrupted, “that’s not what I meant. I meant, like … interests.”

You watched as realisation dawned on his face, his brows raising and his mouth forming an ‘o’ shape. “I like music. I like, uh, readin’ books. Um … I write sometimes, too, although I think I’m shite at it. I like those old black and white films. Why are you askin’?”

“I was going to see if we could be friends, maybe,” you mumbled, looking down at the counter. This was all suddenly incredibly embarrassing. You felt like a child again, and you absolutely despised it.

“Oh.” You looked back up at him, rather hesitantly, expecting him to look annoyed or disgusted. Instead, he was smiling. It was faint, but it was still there. “We can be friends, Y/N. You coulda just started with that, though.”

“Al, you better not be flirtin’ with the customers.” The sound of someone else’s voice startled the both of you, and you both looked at the barista that was currently frothing milk. His name tag said Miles, if you were reading it right.

“I’m not,” Alex said sharply, glaring at him. Miles just grinned and winked at you before turning his attention back to the device he stood in front of. Alex rolled his eyes and turned to face you again. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” you said, although the implication of Miles’ wink that Alex could flirt with you made your cheeks go red. “Um, is it alright if I give you my number?”

•••••

Alex stretched himself out on the grass, letting out something between a groan and a sigh. A beam of sunlight filtered through the branches of the tree you were underneath, casting him in an otherworldly glow and turning his irises into pools of honey behind his sunglasses. "God, I love sunny days," he sighed.

It was the next day, and after the two of you had exchanged numbers, Alex had suggested hanging out since he didn't have work that day. It wasn't like you had anything else to do besides rotting away in your flat, so you agreed. Another day of getting outside meant another sticker on your calendar. February was almost complete. You'd stopped by the café beforehand anyway, though, just to get coffee and a snack. You were sipping at your perfectly toasty mocha latte, and Alex had already managed to down half of his black coffee.

He looked up at you as you bit into your cookie, catching the crumbs with the white paper bag your treats had been slipped into. He didn't say anything for a few moments, just watched you. Then he asked, "You haven't told anyone, have you?"

You lowered the cookie back into the bag. "No," you said. "I saw my therapist yesterday, funnily enough, but I kept my mouth shut."

Amusement danced in his eyes as he remembered your remark. "I'm sorry you have to deal with this now."

You shrugged a little. "It's fine. Adds a bit of excitement to my life." Now it was your turn to eye him. "If you're a vampire, how come you're not a pile of ashes right now?"

He barked out a laugh at that. You quite liked the way his laugh sounded. "Honestly, I was scared to go outside when I got turned, but when I finally did, I was ... fine. I guess it's 'cause I'm not a purebred or anything."

"Oh. So what vampire perks do you get?"

"Well, I can run really fast, although I don't really use that one 'cause I don't run anywhere. I can see in the dark. Erm ... I can sunbathe and not get burnt?"

It was your turn to laugh. "No wonder you're so pale."

"My skin glistens. Like I'm covered in a bunch of tiny crystals."

You set the paper bag down in the grass, deciding to forget about your cookie for now. "Does all the regular stuff still hurt you?"

"Yeah. I mean, I haven't tested a stake to the heart, and I don't plan to, but everythin' else ..."

"Do you not age anymore?"

He shook his head. "I mean, it's hard to say. You don't change much in your twenties, I don't think. But after I got turned, I just ... knew. It was a weird feeling. It still is."

That made you frown a little. You were beginning to wonder if he even enjoyed being a vampire. "I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that you were turned against your will."

He nodded slowly, turning his head ever so slightly to stare up past the branches, watching the clouds as they drifted by. "It was over a year ago. There was ... there was this man in my dreams." His hands, which had been supporting his head, were now waving around in the air, adding gestures to his words. "Every time I saw him, it freaked me out, although I didn't understand why. It was like seein' him triggered somethin', and I'd immediately wake up. It went on for a few months, and then one night, when I was walking home from work, someone jumped out of an alley and knocked me out. I don't remember anything that happened afterwards, but when I woke up, I had the strangest craving for blood."

Although his story did make you sad, your mind immediately latched onto one detail in particular. "Wait, you saw a man in your dreams?"

"Yeah, he was a fuckin' creep. Dunno who he was."

"Was he tall and wearing a black cloak with his hair gelled back?"

"Yeah." He looked back at you, his brows furrowing. "What are you gettin' at, Y/N?"

"I ..." You gulped. "I've been seeing that man in my dreams since November."

Slowly, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, still staring at you. If you looked hard enough, behind those sunglasses, you were pretty sure there was a hint of fear in his eyes. "November?"

You nodded. "I didn't know what to think of it, and my therapist thought that maybe it was related to trauma, and-"

"Y/N," he interrupted, his voice much graver than it'd ever been, "you're not safe. They're gonna come for you."

tags: @elexnorislingtxn / @edandmollydeservebetter / @sagegreensimmr / @billyseye / @supernaturalandpain / @not-a-big-slay

[fictionfordays]

Merperson

Misc Corner | Art Room

A/N: So, this is not good technically speaking. The shading is messy, I'm terrible at backgrounds, and realistic hair is not my forte. That being said, I still really wanted to try out some new techniques and get a better grasp of Clip Studio! I don't usually mess with the layer types and I don't usually have NEARLY as many layers, but I wanted to try something new and I think it looks cool considering! Maybe when I eventually master the techniques this is a piece I can try again and it'll look even cooler!

Taglist: @nanamis-wifey-reye @eunoiaastralwings @blackfire2013 @manjirwo @stopisa @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @dabismoon @qichun @littleoanh @linpunny @shadowwing15 @fuyuswifey @vacantstarlight @serenesaku

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♡All content creative rights are reserved to Wallabypirate©2024. Please do not reupload, repost, copy, modify, feed to AI, or claim my work as your own.

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𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐮 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐚

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He had me in Niagara Falls missing all your calls, We was in the moment losing all control.

Cherry Hill - Russ // Man on the Moon - Zella Day // Love Affair - UMI // Like Real People Do - Hozier // Smooth Operator - Sade

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ XILONEN of The Children of Echoes

[niftykin]

The blood of the innocent ones

Starring: Silver | Twisted wonderland

Sypnosis: You died while defeating malleus, trapped in the thorns that finally took your life away, leaving Silver with no time to tell you how strong his feelings were for you

Prompts:"I still think about you, day in, day out" "I still miss you" "And I… I still love you, even after all of this time"

A/N: Reader is portrayed to be Yuu/Magicless

Warnings: No happy ending, major death, angst, mentions of blood.

The blood of the innocent will always be thrown, will always stain the hands of everyone that stands on the way; its a shame the only reason they are remembered is by their tragic endings and the tears that spread on their graves will never be seen for anyone else; The pain and the sorrow will be something you wont face, the rest and the peace is something they pray and beg to anyone for you to have finally.

Green thorns adorned the head of the grave that described your name, reminding of the ending you had to face for yourself; When no one could hear you, help you or think of you, where you were unnoticed and unprotected. He should have known.

You helped everyone you could. You were weak, He admired how strongly you could stand for anyone even if they didnt really liked you. So stupid; He let that happen. He loved you; he admired your determination, your resiliance, your kindness, but most of all he loved you for who you were, not for what you did to others, it wasn't important. He knew that he didn't have to lose you when Lilia said he was going to leave, "I still miss you" Silver knew that he had to say what he felt before it was too late; Ink splashed into the room, thunders could be heard outside the palace, and the green fog made everyone sleep.

He slept while you suffered, and woke up too late to accompany you.

Silver was always loyal, even when his heart sinked when he looked into the green eyes of the man who some day he said was his friend, seeing your reflection in them, completely covered in ink, green thorns and an almost unoticable fog; "I still think about you, day in, day out" Green was the color he despised the most, black was second, it reminded him of how he found you on the ground, how he bled with the thorns while he tried so desperately to remove them. He reminded him how fragile you were… How fragile you two were.

His person made its way to the ramshackle dorm, on the egoistical hope that your spirit one day will appear to be trapped there; to acompany him, the only straw left for his sanity to keep him on track was to think that you finally could be back at your own world, that your death here was the portal that made you go where you yearned and that was the reason why Crowley couldnt find your way home. Was it his fault? Malleus fault?, was it anyones fault to be honest?, when you deal with lost the way he did it was to blame others, but was there a culprit itself?

The dreams, the sleeping, the things he liked the most after you were the ones reminding him of his sins; He lost everything now, and he didnt care, even if the only time he got to see you again was in his nightmares he was going to face them, after all your memory was the only string that bringed him back to his sanity. He hoped that in any place you could ever be, happiness and joy surrounded you.

Taglist: @miriamladyvoid @caspirino

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[daily-orange-character]

⋆⊹˚₊ Run by @almond-tofu-chan 🧡 ₊˚⊹⋆

i had to complete the rainbow character blog set, and it just so happens that orange is my favorite (under appreciated) color! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

i'm just having fun and being silly ^.^

Rules for submissions:

── ⋆⋅♡⋅⋆ ──

♥︎ say the character’s name + what they’re from

♥︎ check out this guide to see if your character fits the bill before submitting

♥︎ also, if you ever disagree with a decision you're free to contest it, and i'll almost always listen (please call me out if i'm being stupid lol)

♥︎ no real people, unless the person in question is playing a character that also them. In simpler terms: YES vtubers, genloss characters, smp characters. NO: mcyt (unless playing a character), twitch streamers, celebrities

♥︎ no racism, homophobia, or any bigotry whatsoever

♥︎ you can ask en masse, just specify each characters source material if they’re from different medias

♥︎ OCs are fine, just link refs

♥︎ spam liking and reblogging is a-okay

♥︎ be nice ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

About me:

── ⋆⋅♡⋅⋆ ──

any pronouns

free palestine 🇵🇸

follow all the other color blogs please!!

watch me be normal abt my favs :3

[your-dearest-historian]

"I will rewrite history... my way."

"Greetings! My name is Honey Butter Cookie, do you have any questions? Feel free to ask me!"

The mod for this roleplay account is @luminescent-pearl. If you have any other asks unrelated to roleplays, asks, or OOC, just ask that account instead.

RULES :

1. Please do not send in NSFW asks. The mod is very uncomfortable with those.

2. Other OC's or canon CRK characters are able to interact if you want to!

3. Any ships are fine. As long as it isn't anything involving pedophilia, yandere themes, or anything disgusting in general.

[lop-witch]

Fangs of a Leporidae!

pt: fangs of a leporidae !

Hello! I'm Lepi or Oats, it/vae/lop, 20s yo. This blog is for creating pronoun flags, suggesting pronouns or names, NPTs/ID packs and similar!

request rules · to do list · anons

[princesspastel8]

Things aren't always...as they seem

The Definition of Darkness

~• A Dark Gravity Falls Fanfic •~

《 A Collection of Chapters》

◇

• Synopsis

• Chapter 1: Gravity Falls

• Chapter 2: "I'll Wait"

• Chapter 3: Secrets

• Chapter 4: Animal

• Chapter 5: Monster

• Chapter 6: "It's good to be back!"

• Chapter 7: "You know what you did!"

• Chapter 8: Finally

• Chapter 9: A night to remember

• Chapter 10: "They were right..."

• Chapter 11: Captured

• Chapter 12: Torture

• Chapter 13: Awakening

• Chapter 14: Escape

◇

"Look at those meatsacks squirm beneath you pinetree....look at all that you've accomplished!"

"All that WE accomplished Bill."

Theme

《 This book is EXTREMELY DARK and DISTURBING and holds many triggering moments that may be unsettling for some readers. Viewer discretion is advised

《 Dipper Pine is EVIL in this fanfic and aged up as well. This IS a BillDip fanfic

《 The unedited versions of this book are on Wattpad and Ao3. Links will be listed below

《 Wattpad

《 Ao3

Divider credits used throughout this story:

@anitalenia

@bunnysrph

@div1nepetal

@jilval

@animatedglittergraphics-n-more

@grungenglam

@enchanthings

- If any of the art used throughout this story is yours PLEASE let me know so credit can be given!

[tilebytiles]

when the sun goes down - a.t. (part 2)

summary: your favorite barista is … a vampire? word count: 4.4k warnings: mention of suicidal thoughts, violence (a fair amount and kind of graphic), death part 1

You had to kill a vampire.

You were sat on the floor of the living room of your flat, sipping at a diet Coke and watching Alex as he paced back and forth. He stopped every now and again, turning to you and opening his mouth, and then he'd mutter something to himself while shaking his head and go back to his pacing. You were starting to get a bit sick of his inaction. "Alex," you finally said, "can't I just, like ... I dunno, pelt him with garlic bulbs?"

He stopped and looked at you, and you were thankful when he didn't start pacing again. "It would probably hurt a bit," he said, scratching at his chin, "but from what I can tell, he's ... powerful. We'd need more than garlic."

"Silver, then."

"Do you have a silver sword?" You shook your head slowly. "Our best bet is to behead him."

"Behead?"

"If you take a vampire's head, they can't come back. They're dead for good."

"Oh." In hindsight, that probably should've been obvious. "So we behead him. But we don't even know where he is."

"Not yet." You watched as he walked out of the living room, disappearing through the doorway of your bedroom. You wondered if he could see his reflection; probably not. There was a thump as something fell, and then he came back in, carrying one of your pillows with your blanket trailing behind him. You rose an eyebrow, but didn't move from your spot on the floor as he set the pillow and blanket up on your sofa. "You have a connection to him," he finally said, standing up straight once the pillow was fluffed to his liking. "He's in your dreams. My theory is, the locations you've seen him in aren't coincidental. You'll go to sleep, hopefully have a nightmare, and then he'll show up and maybe we can find out where he's hidin'."

"And if he doesn't show up?"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. You questioned if it had ever been neat. "We keep tryin’ until he does."

You got up and set your Coke down on the nearby table, then laid down on the sofa, pulling the blanket up to your shoulders. Alex perched himself on the opposite arm, watching intently as you closed your eyes and attempted to fall asleep. You'd never been very good at falling asleep when you wanted to, and you anticipated it taking a good few minutes before you did slip into a state of unconsciousness. Although you weren't sure exactly how long it took, when you opened your eyes, you weren't in your flat anymore. You appeared to be back in the Victorian maze you'd detailed to your therapist, the deep red walls surrounding you on all sides. This time, however, one of the walls housed a door.

Cautiously, you walked over to it, a couple of the planks in the floor creaking beneath your weight. When you were close enough, you reached out and wrapped your hand around the handle - it was wooden, elegantly carved and smooth beneath your fingers. You pulled down on it and pulled the door open, poking your head out into the hall. There was a painting directly across from the door (Saturn Devouring His Son, if your memory served you right) with a small table beneath it, holding only a small white vase of flowers. They were roses. To your right, the hall seemed to end with another door, but to your left, it opened out into a bigger room. You emerged from the room you'd woken up in and took a left.

You were in a mansion, you thought, and you'd just stepped into the entrance hall, if it could even be called a hall. There wasn't much furniture, beyond a coat rack close to the front doors, and two large staircases on either side led to the second floor of the house. There were tall windows in the front wall of the mansion, revealing the full moon that hung in the night sky. To your left, an open doorway revealed a parlour room of some sort. There were half-full teacups on the low table in the center of the room, indicating there had been life here once. Tall cabinets with ornately designed glass panels in the doors held shelves full of ceramics that you thought might break if you got too close. There was a window in the wall on the other side of the room, covered by sheer white curtains. It was open, and a cold draft blew in, making you shiver.

"Cold?"

You jumped at the sound of a voice and whipped around, the colour draining from your face at the sight of the tall man. He didn't acknowledge your fear, though, just shrugged his cloak off and draped it around your shoulders. He then stepped into the parlour room and sat down in one of the armchairs, picking up a teacup and its accompanying saucer. There were flowers painted below the rim of the cup, their pastel colours a stark contrast to the moody palette of the house. He took a long sip of the tea, staring at you the whole time, as if he were waiting for you to speak first. You didn't know what to say; you were rather uncomfortable. Finally, you gathered up the courage to ask, "Who are you?"

He simply smiled and set the cup and saucer back down on the table, then sat back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. He was wearing a white button-up shirt with a black vest over it and a pair of black trousers. He had black socks on and his shoes ended in a point. His hands sat clasped together in his lap. "I've been watching you for some time, Y/N," he finally murmured.

The sound of his voice - deep, gravelly, perhaps even a little dry and raspy, as if he'd had to swat away cobwebs before speaking - made your skin crawl. "That doesn't answer my question."

He just smiled again. "You'll learn who I am in due time, Y/N. Sooner than you think. In the meantime, I think we should evaluate who you are."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Your life has no purpose, Y/N. You struggle to leave the house. You have no friends. You have a hopeless crush on the boy that makes your coffee. You're letting your degree waste away in a picture frame. You have no real direction. You're wandering aimlessly, waiting for someone else to give you the answers instead of seeking them out yourself. You've considered suicide before, but you've never acted on it. Why? Are you waiting for your Prince Charming to save you from your mundane, meaningless life?" He leaned forward in his seat. "Think about it. If you have to question if anyone would care if you died, doesn't that tell you exactly what you need to know?"

You gulped. Your hands balled themselves into fists at your sides. "You don't know me," you said, although the small wobble in your voice betrayed you. "I haven't killed myself because I know things will get better."

"Will they?" he asked mockingly. "Or do you just keep telling yourself that, and then nothing ever improves?"

"If you think I should be dead, why haven't you killed me yet? Why do you want to turn me instead?"

His smile grew a little crueler. "You're much more useful to me when you have to bear the weight of being a vampire - my vampire."

You hated the way he said that. "What are you talking about?"

"You're the one. Can't you see? I'll turn you, and you'll become ..." His eyes widened, his smile turning into an open-mouthed grin as he looked up at the ceiling, his arms outstretching. "... my queen. Your life will have purpose. You will serve me until the end of time." You could hear a faint rumbling sound coming from somewhere.

"No." His queen? Was he mad? "No, I'm never-"

"Too late," he said, looking back down to you. His eyes were still wide. "The plan is already in motion, Y/N." The rumbling drew closer, shaking the floor beneath you, and before you could react, the ceiling crashed down around you, burying you in rubble and dust.

You shot up on your sofa, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. Alex left his perch in an instant, kneeling down beside you and rubbing comforting circles against your back. "Breathe," he said softly. "You're okay. It's over."

When you'd calmed down enough to form sentences, the first thing he asked was, "Were you able to find out where he is?"

Fuck. You hadn't even thought to ask; then again, with the way the tall man had behaved, you didn't think he would've told you, anyway. "No," you mumbled, burying your face into your hands. But then you paused. Somewhere, deep in your mind, a faint flicker of a thought came forward for a passing moment, like a whisper in your ear from a familiar stranger. You slowly lifted your face from your hands and looked at Alex, whose brows were knitted together at your apparent revelation.

"Y/N?" he said slowly.

"I know where he is," you mumbled. His eyes widened.

•••••

You and Alex stumbled up the dirt path worn deep into the hill, the full moon that hung in the sky perfectly illuminating your path. You wondered if that dream of yours had been foreshadowing, but you tried not to think on it too much. The grass you passed by was tall and dead, swaying gently in the wind. If you walked too close to the edge of the path and brushed against a blade, it would curl in on itself and crumble into dust.

As you reached the top of the hill, the house from your dreams came into view. Beside you, Alex let out a breath. “You were right.”

There was a tall metal gate, and standing in front of it was a man. Something about him looked off, even in the darkness of the night; his eyes looked glazed over, his clothes were worn and torn, and dirt was smudged on his skin, as if he hadn’t bathed in days. His hair was dark brown and cut short, and from where you stood, his eyes looked like two black holes. He had a pistol in his hands, and when he saw the two of you approaching, he lifted it up, his eyes going wide. “State your names.”

“Put the gun down,” Alex said, stepping forward. “You don’t have to do this.”

“State your names!” the man shouted. His hands began to tremble around his pistol.

“You’re under his control, aren’t you?” Alex could barely get the last word out before the man pulled the trigger, firing at him. You covered your ears, expecting a deafening bang, but there was only a faint click instead. You looked over at Alex, swallowing a scream at the sight of the blood that was seeping through his trousers. He’d been shot in the left thigh. He looked down at the wound, then sighed and shook his head, looking back up at the man. “He didn’t even give you silver bullets?”

In one swift motion, Alex sped towards the man and knocked him down, the pistol skittering across the dirt. You heard a scream, but it quickly became gargled and then turned to silence. You hesitated, then finally asked, “Who was he?”

“Thrall.” He slowly stood up, holding a set of keys. He must’ve gotten them from the man. “A vampire’s servant, unwillingly. No idea how long he’s been out of control for. That’s why he looks a mess.” You approached slowly as he unlocked the gate, pushing it open with a thunderous creak. The man - thrall? - had died somewhat painlessly, at least; the only indication of anything having happened to him were the two red dots on his neck. You forced yourself to look away and followed Alex through the gate.

You eyed the red stain in his trousers warily and asked, "Doesn't that hurt?"

It was almost like he'd forgotten he'd been shot at all. He stopped and looked down at his leg, then shut his eyes. You knew something was happening, although you had no idea what; at least, not until the bullet popped out of his thigh and hit the dirt. You stepped in front of him and eyed the hole in his trousers. The skin of his thigh was perfectly smooth, as if he'd never been shot at all. He seemed to know what your next question was, for he said, "Healing properties. I have to be completely still for it to work, though."

"I don't know if I should be amazed or horrified."

"Maybe a bit of both."

The two of you headed up to the front doors of the mansion, ascending the stone steps. There were two large pillars on either side, connected to a stone arch that sat above the door. At least the tall man had good architectural taste. Alex reached out to open the door, but the handle only jiggled in place. "It's locked."

"We'll need to find another way in." You descended the steps and took a few steps back, examining the entire front of the mansion. You were hoping one of the windows would be open, but they were all closed. You thought back to the dream you'd had - the parlour room. You motioned for Alex to follow as you walked around the side of the home, making your way to the back wall. Sure enough, the window was open, the feeble wind shifting the curtains every so often. You climbed in first, and Alex followed.

Not much was different in the parlour room except for the teacups being gone. "It's a bit too quiet in here," Alex murmured. "Are there not even any thralls around?"

"It was this empty in my dream," you replied. "Maybe they're all hiding somewhere ..."

A sudden thump erupted from upstairs, making both of your heads snap up as you gazed at the ceiling. "Looks like that's our answer," Alex said.

You abandoned the parlour room and went back out into the entrance hall, making your way to the staircase on the right. There was a red carpet trailing down it that you did your best to avoid stepping on; a part of you was convinced it'd slip out from beneath your feet and send you tumbling down like something out of a cartoon. The second floor of the mansion appeared as empty as the first, although you immediately noticed something strange: all of the doors were open. You nervously glanced at Alex, who said nothing and pressed forward.

There was another thump not long after your emergence at the top of the stairs, much louder than the first. A few seconds passed, then another. Against your better judgment, you and Alex followed the sounds, taking a left, then a left, then another right ... how big was this place? The monotony of the halls and the paintings on the walls wasn't helping any. At least the thumping was getting louder, signifying some kind of progress - and, simultaneously, something positively terrible. After a few more turns, Alex came to an abrupt stop, and you almost crashed into him. "What?"

Silently, he lifted his arm, pointing at something not far ahead. You peeked over his shoulder. Only one door was shut, and behind it, something violently thumped, increasing in speed with each step you took. When you were right in front of the door, Alex grabbed the handle and yanked it down, pulling the door open. The thumping stopped, and you both stared in confusion at the contents of the room. White sheets were draped over different pieces of furniture, and a window sat in the opposite wall with the curtains pulled back. There was no sign of life; the moonlight that filtered through the window revealed the dust on the floorboards.

"We can't have just imagined it," you said, stepping into the room. "We both heard it, we-"

The door swung shut behind you, and you gasped, whipping around to face it. You ran over and tugged desperately on the handle, but the door wouldn't budge despite being unlocked. On the other side, Alex began banging on the wood. "Y/N!"

"Alex!" you shouted. "What's happening?"

Cold hands wrapped around your ankles and forced you down onto the floor, pulling you away from the door, far away from the room and the mansion. Darkness surrounded you as Alex's shouts grew fainter and fainter until the silence absorbed them completely. You were alone. It was so dark that you wondered if you'd closed your eyes without realising, but blinking a few times instantly proved you wrong. A bit shakily, you pushed yourself up from the strangely solid chasm beneath you and looked around, hoping for anything to pop up before you and allow you back into the real world. But nothing ever came.

Somewhere in the distance, music began to play. It crackled and popped every now and then; it must have been some old record. You felt reluctant to follow it, but what choice did you have? The darkness felt cold and hot, real and nonexistent, loud and silent. You hated it. After some time of walking, a room finally became visible, and it took everything in you to not break out into a run at the sight of it. You could make out the gramophone that was nursing the record, its needle following the path laid out in the grooves of the vinyl. The room was cast in a soft orange glow, and when you got closer, you realised there was a fireplace. It felt warm and inviting.

You crossed the threshold and entered the room, immediately enveloped in the warmth of the fire and the tranquility that accompanied the gramophone's music. There was a piece of paper beside the gramophone, full of ridges like a mountain range due to having been crumpled and uncrumpled, folded and unfolded. One of its corners had been torn off. The writing was shaky, sloppy, as if the author was in a rush. You slowly picked it up and read it.

'I don't feel normal. I know they did something to me. I don't know what. Something's wrong with me. I keep having this really strong craving. What did they do to me?'

"So sad, isn't it?" You jumped at the sound of the voice and turned around. The tall man stood in front of you, his arms crossed over his chest. His cloak was still gone. "They say that when you are turned, you grieve. You grieve the person you once were, the life you once had. Try as you might, you can never go back. Things can never be the same."

"Please just leave me alone," you pleaded. You sounded a bit pathetic.

He just smiled at you. "I don't think, Y/N, that you would have anything to grieve at all. I could give you a life so much better than the one you have now. Why, I could ... fix you."

"I don't need to be fixed."

That made him laugh. "Don't you? Have you taken a look at yourself recently? And I don't mean in the mirror, I mean inwards. You are so broken, Y/N. If you came with me, I could pick up the pieces for you. I could put you back together."

"I don't want to be a vampire, or your queen, or - or whatever sick shite you're into."

The smile that had curled his lips slowly faded, and an unsettling glimmer settled upon his eye. "I don't think you have much of a choice."

In an instant, he darted towards you, and you narrowly avoided being tackled by him as you dove out of the way, making him crash into the table behind you. The gramophone played a few warbled notes, then seemed to right itself. You scrambled up and ran for the door, swinging it open. You were back in the mansion, although you had no idea where. A hall led away from where you stood in every direction, and you blindly began running down the one on the right, forcing your legs to go faster when you heard the tall man emerge from the room.

The hall, much to your dismay, ended in a short staircase that led up to the attic. Although the attic itself was a bit of a maze with all the wooden beams that stood erect, holding the roof of the mansion up, you knew you were screwed unless you got a weapon. "Y/N," the tall man called, slowly approaching the stairs, "you can't run forever."

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. You darted between beams and ran to the other side of the attic, ignoring the cramp that was starting to spread across the left side of your abdomen. There was a window that led out onto the roof, and you fought and fought with it until it finally opened, allowing you to slam the windowpane up into place. Nearby boxes held old relics, prized jewels, weapons from previous battles fought against mortals. The handle of an axe poked out in the air, practically begging you to take it. You silently thanked whatever divine being was watching over you and climbed through the window.

The axe was heavy - or maybe you were just weak. You made a note to yourself, if you got out of this alive, to hit the gym more often. You moved carefully along the shingled roof, some of the metal sheets slipping out and tumbling down to the ground below. You weren't sure where you were going, or if there was even anywhere left to go.

"Y/N," the tall man called behind you. You looked, watching as he slowly came out of the window. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because you're crazy!" you shouted, lifting the axe up. You didn't hold it very confidently.

He eyed the weapon in a way that made it clear he wasn't taking you seriously. You didn't think you'd take yourself seriously, either. "This is getting ridiculous." He stepped closer, displacing five more shingles with every step he took. "You need me. You're nothing without me."

Your grip on the axe's handle tightened. Off on the horizon, the sun was slowly beginning to show itself again. How long had you been in the mansion? "You're wrong," you said, staring him down as he finally came to a stop. "You're wrong about everything." Gulping, you summoned up what little courage you had left. "I did want to die at one point. I didn't see a point in sticking around. I didn't think anyone would even want me around. But ... that was before, and people change. I changed. I have something to live for now." You thought of the awkward barista with his big brown eyes and his pink lips and his hair that always got in the way and his lopsided grin and the way his nose scrunched up when he laughed and the way he made your coffee perfectly every single time.

"Y/N, you're being foolish. Do you think that boy really cares about you? He's just like me. He's going to use you."

"No." Your voice shook a little. "He's nothing like you. And he never will be."

The tall man dove for you, and with what little strength you had, you swung the axe as hard as you could. The world seemed to freeze in place, time slowing to a stop. The tall man's eyes stared at you, wide, empty, soulless, as his head separated from his body and fell, fell, fell, finally hitting the ground with a muted thud. A small circle of dust rose up around it. The body in front of you fell to its knees, then slumped forward, slowly rolling off to join the head down below. It wasn't as gruesome as you'd expected it to be; his flesh was kind of mangled, and you could see the vertebrae in his neck, but there wasn't any blood spewing out and getting all over you.

You stood for a minute or two and waited for the body to get back up, reattach its head, and resume its pursuit of you. It didn't, though, and after a minute or two of standing and staring at the corpse of a vampire, you forced yourself to head back to the window. The sun was slowly rising, shining down on the mansion that suddenly felt leagues more decrepit than it had before. That felt like a good thing.

It took you a while to navigate around the mansion, but eventually, you managed to find the entrance hall again. The hall, which had once been empty, was now littered with the bodies of thralls. There were even some on the stairs, and the sight made you queasy. Alex was knelt on the floor, finishing a thrall off, but when he heard your approaching footsteps, his head jerked around, blood smeared on his lips and creeping onto his chin. His gaze softened at the sight of you, and he dropped the body in his arms, getting up and walking towards you. "Did you ..."

"He's gone," you said. "He looked pretty gone, anyway. You know ... with no head." He let out a sigh of relief, and you hesitated before gesturing to your mouth. "You got a-"

"Oh, fuck. Sorry," he said, reaching up and wiping his face off with his shirt. It had been perfectly white before, but now it was blotchily stained red. The two of you stood there awkwardly until he finally spoke up again. "What are you gonna do now?"

You shrugged. "Go back to my daily life, I suppose. Café and all."

His brows furrowed. "You still want to see me?"

"Of course I do. Besides," you added, reaching out to grab his hand, "I think after all this nonsense, you owe me a date."

He looked down at your entwined hands, then met your gaze again, smiling softly. "Yeah. That is the least I can do."

As the two of you walked out of the mansion, he seemed to be deep in thought until he finally asked, "Does this mean you'll let me peek at that sketchbook?"

"One step at a time, Alex."

"Right, of course. But - eventually?"

"Eventually."

tags: @elexnorislingtxn / @edandmollydeservebetter / @sagegreensimmr / @billyseye / @supernaturalandpain / @not-a-big-slay / @indierockgirrl / @melasworld

[fictionfordays]

Rin Matsuoka - The Princess Bride

Anime Corner | Art Room | Cinematic Youniverse

A/N: Finally finished! Kept the background simple bc I hate drawing backgrounds :( We'll get there one day though. Thank you @saenora for hosting! This was such a cute idea, I really love it<3

Taglist: @enchantedforest-network @sin-and-punishment @nanamis-wifey-reye @fuyuswifey @blackfire2013 @bontensprncess @manjirwo @qichun

Wanna be tagged? Join the Taglist! || Ko-fi || Artistree

I do not own these characters. All rights to the original creators. All content—created rights are reserved to Wallabypirate©2023-2024.

[pantherxrogers]

poolside service - jun x fem!reader (smut 18+ only)

🌊 pairing: pool guy!jun x housewife!reader (both are in their late 20s)

🌊 warnings: smut (18t only), infidelity (reader's husband cheats on her. then the reader cheats on him but he totally deserves it 🤭), explicit language, dry humping, fluff (jun is down baaaad. so is the reader low key)

🌊 summary: you and jun have known each other for a while. you're a lonely housewife, and he's the friendly pool guy. you've created a unique, sweet friendship. but, maybe you both want something more?

🌊 a/n: divider by @jilval /i'm still incredibly pissed off about the svt US tour dates. but junhui's inherent sexiness has nothing to do with that. and i love him. so enjoy! :D

my masterlist

This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent real events or the actual personalities of any K-pop idols mentioned. All characters and situations are purely imaginary. This story is created for entertainment purposes only, and no harm or disrespect is intended toward the idols or their fans. Enjoy!

jun came here to do a job.

he’s well aware of that. but he can’t bring himself to do it. instead, all he can focus on is you.he thinks you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

you look like a queen, elegantly lounging on your pool chair. your skin glitters in the sunlight. the skimpy, cherry red bikini makes his swim trunks feel even tighter than before. the strings rest nicely in the slender curve of your waist, teasing him to no end.

feeling like a perv, he forces himself to tear his eyes away from your body. even if it’s the last thing that he wants to do right now. but the huge diamond on your left hand is enough to knock some sense back into him.

you’re married. he knows that. but, if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t really give a fuck.

he’s wanted you for a while now. jun knows your husband doesn't deserve you. the man is never unkind to you, but jun would treat you so much better. maybe he can’t afford this mansion or any of the other luxuries your husband provides. but he would be wholly devoted to you and only you. something that he suspects your husband can’t say for himself.

“jun, i made some lemonade. i’m going to run inside and grab us a couple glasses. 'kay?” your sweet voice pulls him away from his thoughts. all he can do is smile and nod, infatuated by your kind nature and the way you always take care of him.

and maybe he’s also infatuated with the way your perky little ass sways as you skip back into the house.

not much time passes before you come back and stand in front of jun. he nods his thanks, gently taking the glass away from you.

you sip your drink slowly, eyeing jun the whole time. he's a tall guy, and the height difference makes you feel tingly all over. he closes his eyes as he sips. his little moan of appreciation makes your tummy stir.

“it’s really good, thank you,” jun praises, loving the bashful look on your face. he always makes sure to compliment you. it comes naturally to him, especially since he means every word. he knows your husband is too much of a tool to do it, and he’d never let you go about your day feeling unappreciated.

just like every week, the two of you chat for a while. it’s a comfortable routine. jun listens to you ramble about the other housewives in the neighborhood, while he cleans the pool and offers his two cents. everything is fine. until it's not.

“i think my husband is cheating on me with her.”

“he’s a fucking dumbass.” jun’s response is quick and surprises both of you. thick silence hangs in the air, and jun feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest. he’s never spoken ill of your husband in front of you. 

the sound of your soft sniffles breaks his heart into two. "oh honey, i'm sorry." his arms wrap around you in a second. this is the closest he's ever been to you, and it takes everything in his power to ignore the feeling of your soft body against his own.

"it's okay, i think i've known for a while. but lately, they've been making it more obvious," you sniffle, snuggling further into jun's warmth. as you lay your head against his firm chest, you hear his heart beating rapidly. it's kind of sweet, actually.

it's impossible to ignore the chemistry in the air. when your lazy husband hired a pool guy, you were pleasantly surprised when jun showed up on your doorstep. you've been with your husband since high school, so you don't have much experience with other men. but jun has always made you curious.

"i really did mean what i said. he's an idiot. he's got the perfect woman at home, and he can't even recognize it." the honesty in his voice heals something inside of you. jun's soft, brown eyes gaze into your own, full of admiration. you feel warmth rise to your cheeks, suddenly feeling shy beneath the intensity of his stare.

“thank you, jun.” your voice is no louder than a whisper. but jun hears you anyway. he always does.

there’s another beat of silence. the tension is thick, and you’re suddenly aware of how close he is. the summer sun has done wonders for his skin, gifting him with a beautiful honey color. his body is toned and strong, yet he still manages to look lean.

jun glides a hand up your smooth neck, cradling your cheek. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, eyes dropping down to your full pout. he watches the way you nibble on your bottom lip, the sight making him dizzy. the sound of your quiet thanks makes him smirk. you’re such a good girl. he’s done housework for plenty of the rich assholes in the neighborhood, but you’ve always made him feel good about his work.

“you're beautiful, too.” the truth in your tone surprises him. it also makes his heart skip a beat. he can’t wrap his head around the possibility that you may feel even a fraction of what he feels for you. but he could get used to the idea.

when he sees your eyelids flutter, jun’s heart quivers. before he can overthink it, he presses his lips against your own.

the kiss is sweet, spreading butterflies throughout your tummy. you kiss him back with enthusiasm, gliding your hand up his firm chest to wrap your arms around his neck. his strong arms wrap around your waist causing a stir in your tummy.

the kiss continues for a while, the pair of you exploring the other. jun can’t believe this is happening to him and fears that he’s going to wake up any second. he slips his hands down below your waist, cupping your thighs.

you take the hint quickly, lifting up to wrap your legs around his waist. you gasp, suddenly aware of the growing tent pressing right up against your center.

“shit, i’m sorry.” he sounds embarrassed, a deep blush tinting his cheeks. the sight makes you swoon. you’ve always loved jun’s soft, shy nature.

“it’s okay, sweetie. i really don’t mind.” your tone is so soft and reassuring. jun hopes you don’t notice the way it makes him harden even more.

he carries you over to your chaise, sitting down with you straddling his lap. before he continues, there’s something he needs to get out of the way first.

“so, i’ve been dreaming about this-and you-every night for the past year. but i also don’t want to put you in a position where you do something you might regret later. i should’ve asked before kissing you. and i’m really sorry that i didn’t.” his tone is firm, yet gentle. it only makes you want him more.

“you’ve been dreaming about me?” you stare back at him with doe eyes, and he swears he might cum in his pants any second. he lets out a groan, the last of his resolve slowly slipping away. “honey, did you hear anything else i said after that?”

you giggle in response, nodding your head to answer him. “i did. and i really appreciate your concern. but i’ve been wanting this for a looong time.” jun’s hands squeeze your waist, grounding himself in the feel of you. he still can’t believe you’re saying all of this to him.

he’s looking at you like you’ve hung the moon and stars. you’ve never been more certain about anything in your life. you need jun. and if his hard on is any indicator, you’re pretty sure he feels the same.

“so...” you trail a manicured finger down his chest, “do you want to keep going?”

he’s nodding before you can finish your question. his hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against him. he’s on you in an instant, meeting your lips with fervor. your lips are sweet and soft against his own, the subtle hint of lemonade makes his head dizzy. he swears he’s never felt this good in his life.

you grind your hips down against him, involuntarily clenching when he lets out a deep groan. “fuck, baby. you’re gonna make me cum in my pants,” jun huffs out, head lulling back against the chair.

challenge accepted.

you lean forward, pressing soft kisses against the sensitive curve of his neck. jun lets out a quiet moan, bucking his hips into your warmth. your bikini offers no barrier. he can feel the heat of your arousal through his shorts. the sensation drives him mad. he grabs your hips again, suddenly grinding with more purpose.

“oh, jun,” you moan out. he can hear your warm little huffs of pleasure, your mouth near his ear. the way you cling to his body does wonders for his confidence, finally settling into a steady rhythm. “does that feel good, baby? hmm?” he coos, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“mmm, yes. feels so good,” you hum, matching the rhythm of his hips. you’re grateful for the lush landscaping you insisted on having. the palm trees offer protection from the prying eyes of your neighbors and allow you to fully succumb to the pleasure that jun offers.a thin layer of sweat covers his golden skin. it stems from both the heat of the sun and the intensity between the pair of you.

with every grind of your hips, jun swears he’s going to burst in his shorts. but he finds the strength to control himself. he brings his hands up to your chest, anxiously hovering for a moment. “y-you can touch me, junnie.” the nickname and the feel of your full breasts is almost too much for him. they’re soft and warm in his hands, he can’t help but grope you shamelessly.

the feel of his strong hands makes your clit throb. he rolls your hard nipples between his fingers, causing a warm shiver to run down your spine. you grind down harder against him, needing more and more. you feel yourself nearing the edge, but you never want this to end.

“you’re so beautiful, fuck. everything about you is perfect.”

jun’s praise makes your head dizzy. you know you’ll be coming in seconds, but you need more. “c-can, you untie my bottoms please?” your cheeks burn, but you can’t find it in yourself to regret asking him.

he quickly fumbles with the string, peeling your bottoms away from your wet cunt. the sound he lets out is animalistic, overwhelmed by your pretty pussy. he stares at it for too long, unable to look away. he wills himself not to cum, wanting you to experience as much pleasure as possible. wetting his thumb between his lips, he draws a slow circle on your clit.

"ah, jun. shit!” you mewl, bucking your hips. he's creating the perfect pressure against your clit, sending you tumbling over the edge in no time.

jun studies your face while you orgasm. he swears he’s never seen anything this beautiful in his life. he grips your hips gently, slowly dragging your hips to prolong the pleasure. the euphoria on your face triggers his own orgasm, making a mess of his trunks. he's seeing white behind his eyelids, lost in a haze of pleasure.

both of you ride out your highs, soft puffs of air filling the space between you. you crash into his chest, basking in the glow of an unexpected orgasm. “wow.”

“yeah. i swear i’m dreaming right now, but that was the best orgasm i’ve ever had in my life. i came in my pants like a fucking teenager, though,” he giggles, triggering your own laugh. you cuddle you further into his frame, finding solace in his body.

jun knows he needs to get up eventually and clean both of you up, but he can’t find it in himself to move. the way your body lays against his own feels like everything he’s ever wanted. he likes taking care of you and bringing whatever comfort he has to offer.

you press soft kisses against his chest, breathing in his scent. he smells fresh and clean, with a faint scent of sunscreen underneath. you could get used to this feeling.

lucky for you, jun wants nothing more than just that.

[peachsukii]

💕 My Hero Academia Love Letter Series 💕

『 📬 Check your inbox! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ 』 ˚ʚ ꒰ I.Midoriya | K.Bakugo | S.Todoroki | E.Kirishima | D.Kaminari ꒱ ɞ˚

✉️ Message received from: Katsuki Bakugo 💌 confession - i love you

i'm only gonna say this once...for now, 'cause you know how shit i am with words. i don't know how to thank you for the time we've spent together over the last few months. sure, we've been friends for years at this point, but that's different from now. you make me feel...invincible, like no obstacle is a challenge and you help lift me up to achieve anything i want. somethin' as stupid as your smile is enough to calm me down. the way your eyes light up whenever you laugh and my heart beats faster when you walk into a room. i used to hate those feelings, shovin' them away to deal with later on. but now? i never want that feeling to go away. there isn't a day that i don't think about you and how our future will turn out. all i know is that i want you to stay by my side through it all. god dammit, this is so lame of me to say over text instead of to your face, but that doesn't make it any less true. y/n...i love you. you're the spark that keeps my fire burnin' hot. we're gonna kick ass as pro-heroes after graduation - together. like it or not, peach, you're stuck with me. i'm never leavin' your side, no matter what. love ya, sweets.

dividers by @/jilval

[izuchuumi]

Daisies & Lilies - H. Yachi SMAU

pairing: yachi x f!reader

synopsis: despite the hot new tattoo artist working right across from her, yachi can’t bring herself to do more than daydream about her. when y/n comes in wanting to learn more about floristry for a job, will yachi be able to bond and get with the girl of her dreams or will she keep hiding in the sidelines to protect her delicate feelings?

the vibes: tattoo shop and flower shop AU, opposites attract, black cat x golden retriever, sapphic romance and sapphic angst, new beginnings

progress: ongoing (Fridays 11AM PST)

warning: contains internalized homophobia, profanity, potentially more mature topics, some mental health talk, drinking, potential ooc-ness, canon divergence!! will add more as i write more!

notes: please ignore the timestamps and amount of likes/retweets/comments!! i was too lazy to put in random numbers on all of them; all characters are in their 20s, light mode is yachi’s pov and dark mode is y/n’s!!

written parts are indicated by ✮

profiles

crow inks || daisy chains

chapters

bouquet 1: Purple Gloxinia (love at first sight) bouquet 2: Acacia Blossom (secret/concealed love) ✮ bouquet 3: Yellow Tulips (happiness and hope) bouquet 4: Yellow Freesias (friendship, support, & optimism) bouquet 5: Calaminthas (shyness) bouquet 6: Purple Petunias (mystery and enchantment) ✮ bouquet 7: Pink Orchids (happiness and playfulness) bouquet 8: Striped Carnations (denial and rejection) bouquet 9: Solidasters (support and good fortune) ⤷bouquet 9.5: Sunflowers (joy) bouquet 10: Colorful Dahliahs (devotion) ✮ bouquet 11: Tarragons (lasting interest) bouquet 12: Bleeding Hearts (heartbreak) bouquet 13: Lotuses (relief and rebirth) bouquet 14: Daisies (first love) bouquet 15: Black Dahlias (betrayal) bouquet 16: 16: Purple Hyacinth (sorrow, regret, & forgiveness) bouquet 17: White Carnations (embarking on a new journey) ✮

epilogue

extra bouquet: Yellow Lilies (joy, happiness, & new beginnings)

flower dividers by @strangergraphics-archive heart dividers by @jilval

[exiledinnitt]

we all love hero au x dsmp fics. There is plenty of them too, which i thinks awesome.

I've been thinking of this one specific idea for AWHILE. What if Vigilante!Tommy and Hero!Quackity worked together going undercover at a bar to try and catch villains in the 'bad' parts of L'manburg. ^_^

I mean hero!quackity could easily do this mission alone, hell he's supposed to be doing it alone. Schlatt would be pissed if he found out he asked someone (especially someone who's NOT A HERO) for help. The kid had just been complaining about money, and it's not like they didn't already know eachother. (could be they grew up in the same orphanage or they're childhood friends/acquaintances) It was perfect, really. He didn't have to be alone, and Tommy got money. What could go wrong. (a lot)

Who would have expected the top villains to show up DAILY. Well, considering they come in civilian and villain form, it's technically multiple times a day. Not that the bartenders know that. ^_^

You could do a lot with this plot, honestly. You could do Quackity x someone, with Tommy having found family with (whoever). You could do found family where both Quackity and Tommy get family. Tommy and Quackity become family, and so on.

text divider by @jilval

[meikudan]

Month of October Hall of Fame

Here are the amazing writers that participated in October.

Make sure to reblog and show these artists some love <3

@merakidoll with Bachelorette Toji feat. Gojo

@jilval with Late Night’s

@hoshigray with SHASH or SLASH[er]!!

@slttygeto with SWEAR IT’S JUST RIGHT FOR YOU

@satoruhour with 悟;

Everything represented in this post belongs to the people that are tagged. (Dividers belong to me.)