#i am a puddle of emotions

[mermaidgirl30]

Any good vibes you can send my way, my kitty is in surgery and they are going to tell us if he has cancer or not. Praying I have more time with my baby boy, I love him so much 😭😭😭

Update: It is cancer, so we will only have him maybe a month or two more if that 🥲

[ollie-ollie-oxenfreee]

"Marvelous first spell." :')

[thatgirlissopeculiar]

I know I don't blog about them, but rest assured I have been alternately freaking out and crying over Shayne and Courtney for the past few days

[frrosty]

i need 6 - 8 business months to recover from this

[buckevantommy]

picture this: it's early morning, bucktommy tangled together in bed but awake and chatting softly. buck shifts and accidentally gets tommy in a spot he didn't know was ticklish; tommy can't help a little giggle, but tries to regain composure, and then catches buck's devilish grin and the glint in his eye; tommy warns him: evan, don't you dare— but it's no use and he is suddenly accosted with tickles and a wrestling match of giggles ensues! and they actually both love this - being able to mess around like this without worrying about hurting their partner, and they have matching levels of humour with this sort of thing.

anyway: tommy manages to get the upperhand and rolls evan onto his back, pinning his wrists above him. buck pretends to struggle but ultimately settles, opening his hips to let tommy better settle between his thighs. tommy knows what he's doing - he's trying to distract him. but tommy won't be distracted bc he knows as soon as he is that evan will seize the opportunity to gain the upperhand - unless of course: tommy so thoroughly distracts evan that he can't process any such thought.

tommy drops his voice to that low register he knows drives evan crazy and nudges in for a slow teasing kiss— then his phone starts ringing on the nightstand. buck throws his head back against the pillow with an aggrieved sigh bc how dare the world interrupt them right now when they're having all kinds of fun. tommy releases one of buck's wrists to reach for his phone and buck's free hand moves to grip tommy's shirt at his torso trying to keep him in place, this deliciously solid, heavy warm weight pressing him into the mattress.

it's a work thing, someone asking tommy if he can cover their shift or do them a favor today or tomorrow. and.. here's the thing: before he met evan he would've agreed no question. but now he has evan, and two shiftworkers trying to match their schedules to get time off together is tough, and this is their first few days off together in weeks. so he tells his friend to ask suchnsuch if they can cover, and if not then tommy will do it but they'll owe him - bc giving up his evan time at least deserves a favor he can call in for more evan time, or something equally as important.

tommy tells buck this, more or less, and buck is kind of.. speechless. tommy is choosing to put him first - not bc of any dire cicumstances but bc he just wants to spend time together. not for anything remarkable, not bc they have plans they can't change, but bc when it's a choice between work and buck he chooses buck. he knows they'd both choose work if it was really important, but this wasn't that. this is tommy proving ohsocasually that he values his everyday time with buck. and that's.. buck has never had that in a relationship before.

buck regains the upperhand and flips them over and tommy braces for the tickle onslaught, fighting a smile, but what he gets instead is evan looking at him with wonder and adoration and love. tommy loves him too, and says it, palming his cheek. buck pushes into his touch, presses a kiss there, and says he loves tommy too. what started out as a fun tussle is now something softer, tender, and they spend the rest of their morning showing how well they know each other and the love they share.

[movementsofmylife]

this particular scene (and all the others like it that he pulls off) is why i will have to watch every single thing that war wanarat is in for the rest of my life:

like goddamn that fucking heart broken face at being asked to forgive him, knowing how much he hurt you and that you love him and will forgive him despite it all in the end. and then ending on let me think about it because you can't quite get yourself to verbalize any of this, to let the hurt go just yet.

i did not expect messy engineering bl i started just to have more yinwar b.w jack and joker to hurt me this bad.

[botanicallyinclinednerd]

Screaming and crying over Pete telling Steph to let him die to save her and the world, and then the next words, the opening lyrics to Cooler Than I Think I Am Reprise, are "You can call this luck, that's my perspective."

Pete considers it lucky that he is the thing Steph cherishes most. Because that means he can choose to die. He can save her, make sure she lives. Make the decision so she doesn't have to.

If it were anyone else, if she cherished someone more than Pete, then it probably would have been her singing the song to convince him to give her up. And he wouldn't have been able to argue back very strongly, cause what is he going to do? Tell her to murder this presumably innocent person that has nothing to do with any of this?

No, from Pete's perspective, being the thing Steph cherishes most is the luckiest thing in the world right now, not because he doesn't lose, but because Steph gets to live, and that's enough of a win to make his impending death worth it and a turn of luck.

[timothylawrence]

I think I missed you.

I think I missed you too.

[partrin]

he's so handsome, like...

i see it, haru. i see the vision. i see why it was so hard for you to give up on him throughout the series. i see why you were so emo when he left for australia the first time and after every single fight you two had. i see why your eyes light up when you see him smile.

i'd be damned if i lost a man like this.

[blossoms-phan]

thinking about the pholiday pictures again

[alltheirdamn]

Jamie…. JAMIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have never felt so many emotions flow thru my body as I have while reading this beautiful piece of writing. So poetic and full of so many mixed emotions. The YEARNING… the GRIEF… the TENDERNESS…the ABSOLUTE DISASTER IN MY HEART NOW???? Oh God, I’m so in love with this story, and i’m SO in love with vampire Joel. This was so heartbreakingly beautiful in every single way. This will now be all I think about for the foreseeable future :’) BRAVO sweet pea <333

✨Crimson Ties✨

Vampire! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Masterlist

A/N: I was listening to “I’m Not A Vampire (Revamped)” by Falling In Reverse, and this angsty one shot just slipped inside the keyboard. I love love love writing in Joel’s POV, especially when it is filled with angst 🩵

Summary: Joel was a creature of the night, a monster who begged to be released from his curse. He wasn’t a good man, didn’t think he deserved anything that shined light on his dark soul. But there was you, the girl he so desperately wanted to stick around, if only for one more night.

“And whiskey seems to be my holy water. And mothers better lock your doors, and hide your daughters. ‘Cause I'm insane, I can feel it in my bones.Coursing through my veins. When did I become so cold? For goodness sakes, where is my self control?If home is where my heart is then my heart has lost all hope.”

-“I’m Not a Vampire” by Falling In Reverse

Word Count: 3.6k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only MDNI)

Tags: Angst, fic in Joel’s POV, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, feelings, pining, smut, oral receiving (female), unprotected p in v, creampie, vampire! Joel, outbreak AU

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

  Another night of lying on the cold floor, another full bottle of amber whiskey chugged and thrown to the ground, glass littering the dirt covered wood, blood staining the blue flannel that’s wrapped around his tired body. He’s worn out, exhausted from the endless feedings, the mind numbing displeasure of having to drink the blood of the living again and again and again. 

   Wild animals could only tie him over for so long, humans were the only things that remotely silenced his cravings. But you. Well, you’d be the only thing that kept the unrelenting hunger from ever dissolving from his dead body. 

   You. The woman he could never truly have. You were a fragile particle of sunlight in his midnight clouded black nights. You were… exquisite, something he never should’ve lured into his lonely, monstrous life. 

   How many times has he had you? Over a dozen, each time risking your life with how dangerously delicious your blood smelled to him when you writhed beneath his naked body, the silhouette of your sensuous curves and delicate skin glowing under the moonlit skies. 

   He always came so close to nipping at your neck, biting into your sweet flesh each time his fingers were curled up into the soft walls of your dripping core, your melodic moans filling the room with every stroke of his thick cock inside you, each quake you gave from him running the blood soaked lips down your soft skin, begging to be let in, to taste the perfect rush of blood that coursed through your supple breasts. 

   It’d take just one bite and he’d be gone, not able to detach himself from your glistening skin, getting blood drunk off your crimson red life beneath your muscles. He can see it now, ripping the flesh from your perfect neck, nails digging into the meat of your skin, so fucking gone that he’d turn into the blood thirsty monster that he was, that he is. 

   Maybe he should end it, drive a wooden stake through his own non-beating heart, stop the endless cycle of whatever the two of you keep doing with each other. 

   He wants to end it, needs to keep you away, but he can’t. He has no strength, no ounce of restraint from you. So he lures you back into his king sized bed that’s donned in crimson red velvet sheets, the one where he fucks you relentlessly until you have nothing left to give but your own shaking breath that blows down the dip of his neck night after night. 

   He holds you tight in his arms, watching you slip from his grasp while you fall asleep on his broad chest, soft breaths breathing in and out after he takes control of your whole body against the damp sheets that are filled with the smell of you. 

   He almost can’t stand it. The smell of your rose scented hair, the feel of your buttery soft skin against his jagged nails, the taste of your sweet, drenched pussy as his tongue parts your folds and laps up the sticky slick that he gets so drunk off. The taste burns against his tongue, even hours after he’s finished, making his cravings deepen with every flick and taste of you on his lips. 

   He fights the monster that begs to be released when he’s clawing at your back, his sharp fangs hidden from view when his lips glide down your neck, sucking the taste of your syrupy skin, drowning in the smell of your rosemary perfume, fighting himself to not sink his sharp incisors deep into your jugular veins. 

   He distracts himself when he’s slotting his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your pretty little moans that slip out of you each time he thrusts his cock deeper and deeper into your core, eliciting the most insatiable moans that he will never tire of hearing. He feeds into your desires, caging you against his broad chest, flexed arms hugging your body, making you cum time and time again until he’s right on the edge himself, throwing back his tousled curled head, extracting his fangs as the blood rushes through his cock, threading his eyebrows together in a tight line until he’s calling your name and spilling warm ropes of cum deep inside you, claiming you as his own.

   He always feels the guilt after watching you sleep in his arms night after bloody night, his eyes never leaving your pretty face, his hand stroking light circles into your delicate skin. He hates it, hates having to leave you before the sun rises. All so he can go hide in the dark shadows where the blazing sun won’t burn him alive.

   He fights himself day after day, tormenting his mind from holding back what he really wants to say to you. He wants to tell you. God, he wants to. The way he never stops thinking about you, the way your hand fits perfectly into his calloused palm, the way he can’t ever shake the way you feel beneath his skin, the way he loves the way your eyes sparkle in the moonlight as the white curtains blow against your flawless face. The way he…. loves you, even though he shouldn’t because he’s a monster. A fucking blood sucking demon that should be dragged to hell where he belongs. At least there you wouldn’t be able to reach him, even though it kills him to think about losing you.

   He sits in a heap on the cold floor, clawing at the fraying wallpaper, tears staining his eyes as the crimson blood soaks through his blue flannel. He couldn’t hold it any longer, his thirst for blood. He had to feed. Another deer wouldn’t do. He smelled the stench of fresh blood and pulsing veins in the forest, attacked with his sharp fangs before they even knew what hit them. He didn’t stop. Not when they screamed, not when they fought with white knuckles and strained cries that were silenced by the weight of his fangs that were sunk deep in the unknown stranger in the middle of the night. 

   He sucked them dry, hollowing out their bleeding body while he bathed in the delectable crimson that stained his clothes dark red. He didn’t care at the moment, was too drunk on the blood to even realize what he did, until it was too late. 

   When he was finished feasting he stumbled back, wiping his bloody mouth on the back of his hand, dark eyes growing wide with every step taken after breaking the spell of the hunger that drove him to this. He gasped at the sight, violent red staining the dirt crimson, mind twisting into sheer horror from what he did. This wasn’t the first time, wasn’t even the second time, but it never got easier to realize just how monstrous he had become over the years. 

   He ran all the way back to his empty home, tears spilling down his dark eyes, muffled cries for help fleeting from his lips, but who exactly was listening? He was alone, forgotten, a broken monster that sunk his sharp incisors into the world, spilling bloodshed all around whatever he touched. That’s why he was so afraid for you, his perfect girl, the one he could never truly make his. He was afraid, so scared of hurting you one of these nights. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t, but that didn’t mean accidents couldn’t happen. He’d surely kill himself before he killed you, though. Not his precious rose, your soft petals cushioning the blow of his fucked up life. You were never supposed to enter into his life, but you did. And god, he loved you so fucking much that it hurt. 

   The smell of fresh blood is everywhere, covering his flannel, his hands, his chin, even the tips of his grey threaded dark locks. His body shakes beneath him, anger and turmoil crashing over his system until he buries his face into the corner of the wall and hides his hideous face from the world. He’s a monster, nothing more and nothing less, only a mere speck of dust in the corner of the room that begs to be taken away from the darkness that encapsulates him.

   His blood stained lips quiver, thinking that could’ve been you in the forest. He could’ve fucking ripped your throat apart until you were nothing but a ghost left in the dirt, fangs tearing you apart until your gorgeous eyes shined no more.

   He claws at the wall, warm tears pricking the backs of his eyes as he bares his teeth, body clinging against the wall until he feels like he could split it in two. His body is so cold, lifeless, haunted by the cries of fallen victims and innocent bloodshed spilled. He should get up, run far away, somewhere you’ll never find him again. But that might kill him more than anything, leaving you without one last goodbye. 

   He clenches his jaw and lets a fresh tear slide against the side of his dark beard, body barely holding on to life while he clings to the memory of your sunlit face, your pure essence, your soft, lilty voice that haunts his sleepless nights. He’s so in love with you that it physically hurts, but he could never tell you. Never bear to burden you with those words, those goddamned three words that haunt him day after day. 

   He’s just a worthless, blood shedding monster, but you’re the only one that knows how to tame the fangs. The only one that can remotely cure him of the sickness that invades his eternal body. You were pure sunlight, and he couldn’t even begin to describe how much you meant to him. His sunflower in the bed of nightshade that made up his body. You were eternal sunlight, so how could he turn away from that?

   He gets lost in his thoughts, doesn’t even notice the creaking footsteps against the hardwood floor until he hears the whisper of your shaking breath. 

   “Joel?” you call, voice quaking against the sight of the blood doused flannel. 

   He freezes, not daring to turn around when he’s a mess on the floor, eyes averted from your wandering gaze. “Go away,” he shivers, his voice rugged and broken, just like his tired body is from the loss of the life he stole.

   “Joel,” you try again, taking one timid step in his direction.

   He clenches his jaw, his fingers digging into the crimson stains in his dark jeans as he fights another sharp response. “I said go away.”

   He smells the fear on you when you see the dark red stains that coat the front of his flannel, cringes at the repulsing feelings that must be flying through your head right now. You’ve never seen him like this, right after a fresh attack, the blood clinging to ever fiber of his clothes. It kills him, it fucking kills him. 

   “No,” you whisper, taking another slow step in his direction, your breath faltering with every motion you take.

   He cringes with every step you take, having you so close in such a vulnerable state. He can’t fucking take it.

   He shouldn’t have ever pulled you into the reins of his hands, should never have lured you into his bed chambers. You’re too good, too delicate, too soft. One taste, that’s all it took to keep you coming back for more. It was almost resentful how he was so selfish to keep you, even though he never intended to. You were too special, a rare rose in a sea of thorns that made up his life, but you stayed. You stayed. And he’ll never understand why a rare flower like you would stay for him. A monster that only shreds and devours pretty flowers. 

   “Why won’t you ever fuckin’ listen? Jus’… go.” His voice is defeated, gravelly tone breaking on the last syllable as he hangs his head low, across the stained shirt that reminds him of what he did. 

   “Because. I… I don’t want to leave,” you mutter, your voice catching on your shuttering lips. “You need me. You need…”

   He growls in your direction, turning his body so you can see just what kind of monster he really is, scowling your way as his eyes darken to black pits. “This is what you need?! A killer of the night? Look at me, I’m a goddamned monster! I KILLED someone tonight, I MURDERED ‘em in cold blood because I couldn’t control myself!” 

   You look taken aback, eyes wide and teary as he snarls up at you, demanding with his big teeth that you turn and leave, run away so you won’t have to look at the blood that covers him and marks him a murderer.

   You just stand there unmoving, waiting for god knows what. And that makes him angry, so fucking angry that you won’t listen to a goddamn thing he says. “Well! What’re you standin’ there for? I said LEAVE!” His words come out pained, tears licking the corners of his saddened eyes while you just stand there speechless staring at the man that could never keep you safe, not really. 

   “Joel,” you whisper, words failing you as a tear streaks down your crimson cheeks. It makes him cover his head, hide his face from the girl he can’t stand to show himself to at this moment in time. He’s broken, so fucking broken, and not even you could take away every sliver of pain he’s felt in all his worthless years. He regrets ever bringing you here, drawing you in till you didn’t want to leave. 

   “Jus’… stop. I’m not good for you, I never was. I’m jus’ a monster. A goddamned bloodsucking vampire. Now jus’ go. Please…” he begs, hiding his face in the shadows while you stand there in a puddle of sorrow. 

   You inch closer, tip-toeing the floorboards until you’re crouched down beside him, pulling on his blood stained flannel, begging him to just look at you. “Joel, please. Look at me.”

   He shakes his messy mane, trying to pull himself away, but you thread your fingers through his greying scruff and turn his head towards you. He fights your touch, finally giving up when your soft fingers dig into his soiled shirt, one hand delicately skimming the side of his jaw, your thumb rubbing off the blood that stains along his tainted lips. 

   He watches you quietly brush away a teardrop that escapes his watery eyes, mesmerized by how soft you are with him, even in the rough shape he is, after he just murdered someone in cold blood. 

   He can’t take it, the guilt that eats him alive. So he breaks, shedding another tear while you so gracefully wipe it away with the flick of your finger. “I killed someone tonight, I did that. I…”

   You silence him, quietly shushing him while he bites back another whimper. “It was an accident, only an accident,” you reply softly, no taste of bitterness or fear in your voice, only something that’s so you. Soft, you’re so soft, so lovely, something that he never deserved. Not after all he’s done, after all he’s killed.

   He tries to pull away, tries anything to get you to pry your fingers from his button-up, but you don’t. You just stay right there, coiled around him while you smooth a tousled lock of hair back in place, eyes never leaving his.

   “I’m a monster. I watched them die, I didn’t stop, I didn’t have the will to. I jus’ drained them. And that could’ve been you. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if…”

   “Shhh,” you say soothingly, fingers dancing down his greying scruff, glistening eyes reflecting that he’s okay. He’s home, safe in the shadows, safe with you. “It wasn’t me, Joel. It was just an accident. You didn’t mean it. It’s alright now. I’m here.”

   Something in your soft words soothes him like a distant lullaby, calming his fears, but eliciting more tears from his wide eyes, staring at the girl that started a fire in his dead heart long ago, revealing a way to get his heart pumping just by looking at your beautiful smile, your kind soul, your very essence.

   Something breaks in him when you flick your eyes over his bloody clothes and don’t even cringe, only giving him those soft puppy eyes that he can never say no to. He crumbles into your arms, pulling you flush against his chest as he cries into the crook of your neck. He feels your fingers comb through his hair, the other clinging to your back as it draws lazy circles up and down his spine. 

   He can’t hold it in any longer. It slips from his tongue, an elation of words that he never thought he’d ever say again. “I love you…”

   You sigh into his broad chest, lips brushing against the fading material as you muster up the words you too had been holding back. “I love you too, Joel Miller. I have for quite some time…”

   He brings his head up and cups the sides of your face, his dark eyes brightening by the swell of your teary eyes, your sweet smile curling up towards him, pure love screaming from the pits of your beautiful irises. He wastes no time and crashes his lips down on yours, fusing his lips to yours like a sworn oath. You melt into his chest, circling your arms around his neck while you slot your lips and allow him to enter. He licks slowly into your mouth, tongue finding yours while they dance together in unison, bodies entwining until you're pressed beneath him on the sheets, completely naked while you toss and turn in the massive bed. 

   He marks his way down your body, caressing your supple breasts, splaying your legs open for him to lick and suck you dry, tongue pressing meticulous circles over your aching clit until he gets you right where he needs you to be. You spill, covering his tongue in your sticky slick while he laps you up and drinks you down feverishly. He drowns in your sweet taste, swears nothing has ever tasted better than being between your legs. He could make you cum all night long, hearing your pretty moans fill his ears while he takes it all from you, leaving you with pure ecstasy running through your sweet veins. 

   When he’s finished tasting you he takes you slow, sliding his cock between your slick folds while he gently bottoms out inside of you. He takes his time and rocks back and forth, swallowing your moans as he kisses you deeply, sensually. He doesn’t stop either, not even when you’re right at your next release.

   “Joel,” you moan, body writhing beneath him while your walls squeeze his thick length, causing him to groan over you.

   “Attagirl. That’s it, my love. Takin’ me so fuckin’ good,” he praises while he ruts deeper inside you, chasing his own release which doesn’t take him long. He throws his head back, knits his eyebrows together and calls your name, spilling his hot cum inside you just how you like it.

   He slips out of you, crashing down on the opposite side of the bed while he pulls you into his chest, kissing the top of your head softly while his fingers trace circles over the back of your shoulder soothingly.

   He’s quiet for a minute, reminiscing on everything that happened tonight. The way you chose to stay. For him, you did it all for him. 

   He whispers, a ghost of a breath lingering over the shell of your ear. “You stayed… you weren’t afraid?” he asks nervously, biting his bottom lip while he waits for you to answer. 

   You nuzzle deeper into the side of his neck and murmur sweet words against his jawline. “No, Joel. I was only afraid of losing you. I was never afraid of you. Not even when you showed me your fangs. I guess I just saw past all that. I saw a man that was dying to be seen, to be heard, to be known. You were so… lonely. And I just couldn’t bear to leave you alone. You’re not a monster to me, Joel. You’re the man I fell in love with. You’re mine. Just as I am yours,” you whisper, settling closer into the side of his chest.

   “Mine…” he repeats breathlessly, eyes locked on the beauty that never ran away. You’re his. His.

   “Mhm. Yours…”

    A few seconds later you’re out cold, face nuzzled into the scruff of his beard, one arm slung around his broad chest. He lies there staring at you, running his calloused fingers up and down your back, gently carding them through your beautiful locks. He stares wide-eyed, a tear falling from the side of his eye as he looks at the beauty that saved him from slipping away into the shadows forever.

   He’s got you, forever, as long as you’ll stay with him. He hopes it’ll be for eternity.

   All he’s ever wanted was someone to stay by choice, all these years waiting for nothing to happen. But then there was you. You who chose to stay. You stayed, and that’s all he ever wanted. 

   You. The love of his life that chose him when no one else would’ve. Love. He’s so in love. Maybe he’s not all teeth and darkness anymore, maybe he’s more. You made him more. The moonlight that lights the way out of the darkness forever. His guiding light home.

Tagging some mutuals 🩵 @msjarvis @alltheirdamn @mountainsandmayhem @sawymredfox @littlevenicebitch69

@yxtkiwiyxt @magpiepills @jasminedragoon @milla-frenchy @aurorawritestoescape

@survivingandenduring

[apocalypticdemon]

so i'm finally reading through the terror scripts and i think this was designed to cause me physical pain.

crozier was supposed to be drinking to schubert..... god

[loverboybrightsideghost]

la cage aux folles musical. that is all.

[phagodyke]

thinking abt the touden siblings got me sniffling and weeping....

[corals-corner]

Damn literally anything will make me cry, huh

[redwolfstabs]

I was watching tv with my mom and I took a very short 20minutes nap and I’m so exhausted

I’ve been up since like.. I think roughly 2pm YESTERDAY with a small three hr nap in between, now including the 20 minute nap

Let’s see if I can actually lay down rn and sleep bc I’m so UGGGHHHHHH