#i fear i may just stare longingly

[melminli]

I LOVEDDDDDDD your Thanos “bang bang bang” post and it made me very curious abt how they know eo and stuff and like I’d love to read more about it in general if you don’t mind. It’s so great and I love your writing <333 have a fun day / night 🫶🏻

BANG BANG BANG ll

summary - thanos was always just such an easy person to argue with. you really hated the guy and that was something that was never going to change, even if your life was on the line and it fucking was.

pairing: (thanos) choi su-bong x fem. reader

word count: 1.8k

contains: violence, angst, death, drug use and addiction, dark content - just usual squid game stuff really

a/n: ty so much! this turned out kinda freaky but that is because thanos is a freak so, i didn't really have a choice.

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There was an eerie silence among all the participants for the first few seconds after the first death happened. The realization of what this meant for everyone present slowly sank in, and you thought that maybe the crazy man with all his screaming, wasn't quite as crazy as you originally thought. The real madman was probably the person somewhere upstairs or - you didn't know exactly where, but you knew that they were watching you.

“Don't move!” His voice shouted again, but this time with a completely different force. It may be that this was the most logical conclusion one could draw from what had just happened, but some seemed to throw all logic out of the window as soon as the fear of death hit. It only took one person to panic to set off a domino effect and from one second to the next loud gunshots could be heard, following the fearful screams of one person after another. The participants were being slaughtered like frightened animals in a cage, what kind of sick game was really going on here?

You too began to tremble as you looked down at the floor, dissociating and trying to ignore your surroundings as best you could. You had to stop yourself from flinching when the person right next to you was killed, even as you felt his still warm blood covering your cheek, even as a small river of it started pooling around your foot. You were most likely going to leave a trace of him all over the ground as soon as you started walking again - whoever he was. It didn't take very long for everyone who had moved to be shot, maybe half a minute - and yet it must have been the worst half minute of your life so far.

“Don't you dare move,” Thanos said in a voice you weren't used to hearing from him. “I'm serious, don't make me mad.”

You just looked at his back from behind, with a tense posture while you tried to regain control of your breathing again. Finally, there was complete silence on the pitch again. Even if it wasn't an entirely welcome silence.

The voice from the loudspeakers began to speak again and you already knew that this would be a voice that would haunt you in your nightmares. “Let me repeat: You can move forward while the tagger shouts, Green light, red light. If your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated.”

Ah, so that's what you meant with eliminated. A bit literal but no biggie! The game continued, but no one really dared to move a muscle even when the puppet looked away. You then saw Thanos shift slightly out of the corner of your eye and noticed that he was pulling his cross necklace out of his t-shirt. Safe to say, that you could barely believe what you were seeing right before your very eyes. You've got to be kidding me, they took everything we had from us, but he was allowed to keep that old thing? “Are you seriously going to take that stuff now?” you whispered in disbelief but didn't really judge him for it. You were this close to just laughing out loud at the absurdity of the scene, but you didn't.

“You don't have to be jealous, sweetheart,” he replied with slightly shaky hands as he stopped his movement abruptly when the doll finished talking. He just stared longingly at the colorful pills in front of him. “I don't mind sharing with you, you know that.”

You sighed inwardly at the thing you were about to do. You had been clean for maybe about three years by now and quitting drugs of any kind overnight was fucking hard - definitely one of the hardest things you had to do in your life. On the other hand, your life was still as shitty as before, the only difference being that you were now consciously depressed and unhappy, so who cares? You could die every second anyway. “Thanks.” you just said after taking the pill out of his hand and threw the thing as quickly as possible in your mouth as soon as the doll looked away. Yeah, you were the biggest hypocrite on earth, old news.

It only took maybe a few seconds after that for you to feel the effects of the pill and then finally, all the stress started to dissipate. Your muscles relaxed, all the shouting about whatever felt like a soft pillow hugging you and the weird laying positions of the dead around you suddenly seemed incredibly funny. These were really strong pills, you could practically feel your whole body tingling. “Why are they all suddenly forming a line?” you asked with a grin and Thanos just hummed, not knowing the answer himself. “No idea, but watch this,” he said and waited until the puppet had turned towards you to push the person next to him, causing everyone in front of them to fall over too. “Ding! You lost,” he told them while wiggling his eyebrows and smirking after he watched them get shot.

You didn't even try to stifle your laughter at the scene. “You really are such an asshole.” you replied, shoving him aside this time after the doll averted its gaze. You then ran away as fast and as far away as you could so that he couldn't take revenge on you for what you had just done. However, you quickly stopped moving with both hands in the air as soon as the girlish voice emitted red light as if you were surrendering to her. You stifled your grin and pretty much failed when you noticed a slightly older woman standing relatively close to you. “Hey, are you trying to hide behind me to use me as a shield?” you spoke out without moving your mouth much and watched as she began to sweat more after you realized what she was doing. Still, she didn't pay you any further attention. “And now you're ignoring me too?” you spat out annoyed and grabbed her by the arm when you were free to move and pulled her in front of you against her will.

She tried to fight you off but you forced her further forward while she tried to defend herself. “You're older than me, aren't you ashamed of yourself?” You asked her and stopped walking before the robot's face turned towards you.

Number 57, who was still resisting your grip, stumbled a little to the side when you suddenly let go of her. She was about to howl in delight when she noticed how everyone else stood still. “No…” she mumbled out fearfully. “It's because of that bitch! I didn't -” she tried to defend herself to someone as she looked around the room, but her head caught the bullet before she could even finish her sentence.

“I may be a bitch, but at least I'm still alive.” you sang to her dead body on the floor before running past her. You didn't know how much time was left, but you had almost made it to the finish line anyway. You stopped with your back to the robot girl this time and it didn't take you long to spot the purple hair in the crowd. “Su-bong!” you shouted his name, since you had somehow gotten separated while running. You waited until he yelled back with a what?! “Last one there, gets fucked in the ass!” you yelled out without any shame or filter and saw his facial expression turn serious at the challenge. “Let's Go!”

The whole game went by relatively quickly once you took the pill from Thanos. It was actually quite fun, you thought to yourself as you both jumped around like two crazy people with grinning faces, waving your arms around wildly. I know it's not socially acceptable to say this, but I fucking love doing drugs! It was like everything around you was happening in slow motion and all the decisions you made felt foggy, like you didn't even realize what you were doing.

You loved being this person, it felt great to forget everything and just - not think. “I have won! No, really! You crossed the line two steps after me, I saw it!” you exclaimed before Thanos could object to a single thing. “Didn't anyone else see that?” you exclaimed in disbelief as if the others weren't busy staying alive while watching several others die right before their faces. You didn't care about the looks they gave you as you waved your hand. “No, they definitely saw it. I won.”

Thanos just gave in with a heavy sigh and a roll of his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I'm getting fucked in the ass which is gay, very funny.” he just mumbled to himself annoyed, and continued to avoid your gaze, but couldn't help grin again when you slapped him on the shoulder laughing. “Hey, why did we stop doing all this again?” he asked you when he couldn't remember the reason. All he knew was that he hadn't had this much fun in a long time, even though he knew that he always had a great time with you - no matter what.

You laughed. “Oh, that's because you promised me that we'd both get clean together, and then you spent the money I gave you for rehab on more drugs behind my back.“ you laughed along with him, even if Thanos frowned a little at the memory and you started to smile forcedly after remembering again how he had betrayed you. “Or what was it again? Was it something about that Youtuber you told me about…” you mumbled to yourself obliviously, feeling any sense of happiness begin to fade. You finally gave up, the details weren't that important anyway. “It doesn't really matter though, right? In any case, you used the money for something else, whatever it was. Even though you knew how hard I worked for it - hell, I didn't even eat most days to scrape it together, man.” you stated while you looked him in the face, even though he averted his gaze from you. “That's just fucked up dude.”

Exactly. You actually hated being this person. You might not remember it right now, but you would as soon as the effects of the pill wore off, which hopefully wasn't soon. You really hoped it wasn't soon, because you didn't want to be aware of anything that had happened today.

next.

[knavesflames]

chat this contains sh DO NYAT read if uncomfy

putting this in ur ask box cos im desperate for it to be written on my knees screaming

genshin girlies tracting their s/os skin where they see scars while u cuddle naked maybe after a sesh or even just skin to skin cuddling and they speak softly telling you you did a good job and everything and even kissing them AUGH HEHEHRHEHEGRGEGRGRGRGRBDJFJSLANHAHA

Hi <3 sorry this took me so long to get to! I have had a whirlwind of health struggles both mental and physical but I am trying to Lock In again. I’m sorry you went through such tough times :( I understand, and I get the struggle, if you get what I’m implying. Stay safe and healthy fr<3

Word count: 867

Content: sh implied in the past but it’s not graphic, just briefly mentioned, talk of scars, fluff

tw utc

Arlecchino has a rule— as blunt as she may be, she isn’t as cruel as the world likes to make her out to be. Judgemental, though she is, she refuses to comment on something that a person cannot change. She deems it basic decency (it is), but even some of the most polite people she knows don’t hesitate before speaking, or, well, looking. Despite the discomfort she knows you experience when people’s eyes wander and dwell on the exact thing you don’t want them to look at, she herself has never done so. Curious, she has to admit she has been, as would most be if they had a girlfriend with such marks littering her skin. Purely out of concern and care does she wish to know the story of what led you to make such decisions. She does not ask. Arlecchino herself has scars from countless hours of training herself to execute ‘Mother’, ones she keeps hidden under the fabric of her pristine white suit. Ones only you have seen, during moments of intimacy when the night is dark and the air in the room is so suffocatingly warm. You know her story, so you don’t ask.

It seems to be a cycle. She sees them, says nothing, and holds back from doing what she’d really like to do for fear of being insensitive or revealing the softness she keeps hidden. The marks are hidden again, and neither of you say a word. In truth, they shouldn’t be the main focus of the conversation and she understands that, but a part of her yearns to know you, and to understand the parts of you that you’ve refused to reveal.

On the days she catches you staring just a little too longingly at That Drawer in the kitchen, or the days where you seem a little more miserable than usual when you glance at your skin, she’s sure to pull you away from the mirror or the kitchen under the guise of needing you to look over some of the plans for the orphanage, or needing to go shopping. She’s so good at doing so, you don’t even notice she’s done it until hours later.

One particular night, after multiple hours of pleasure and mumbled words of affection, she decides to be bold. Hesitantly, her blackened hand reaches to rest on your thigh. The act itself is nothing new, with you, Arlecchino is a very touchy person, always reminding both her and you that you’re hers. Her thumb however, strokes over one particular scar she’s eyed for a while. It’s a feather light touch, testing the waters, and she’s perfectly prepared to lift her hand away should you indicate as such. You do not. You lean into her touch, almost, like you’ve been waiting for her to get comfortable enough to touch them. You become lost in your own thoughts, and you become unaware of how much time passes before her voice cuts through them, as stern as always, but softer than usual.

“Is this recent?” She hums in slight disapproval as her thumb grazes over it, but she says nothing more, which, if you’re honest, you’re grateful for.

“I had a moment,” you mutter in reply, your head buried into her neck. Her perfume still adorns her skin, and you wonder how expensive said perfume must be if it’s been able to last such a long time, and through such strenuous activity. “I realised and I stopped.”

“Good.” A breath, and her voice lowers until it’s barely louder than a murmur. The sincerity is there though, and her lips move against your hair. “I am proud of you. You have done well.”

“I have not done well, it is—“

“You would not have stopped four years ago. Or two, for that matter. Any progress is better than no progress.” Arlecchino’s voice is gentle, yet unwavering. When you go to protest again, she can practically see the words form before your voice can carry them. “Of course I know how often you were doing it. I am no fool. I said nothing because begging someone to stop doing something when they do not wish to stop is a fruitless endeavour and harmful for both parties in the long run. I just wished you would speak to me if you needed.”

You decide to continue letting her trace every scar she finds on your body. She traces random shapes with the tip of her nail (lucky for you, she filed them a while ago. For.. other reasons). In a moment of affection, she traces little hearts over each one, never missing one, and never giving one more care than another. Both of you stay silent, but the words don’t need to be spoken, and any words that did, have already been said. Arlecchino sees no need in making you uncomfortable when she knows you’ll speak if you need.

Speak you do, eventually, and she remains silent as she listens, giving the occasional nod or ‘mm’ to reassure you that she’s listening. She files all of the information away into her mind, and vows to herself she won’t forget a single word. Arlecchino vows she will love you always.

[seramilla]

Imagine Vaggie needing proof and when she's looking at the results of the tests that show she is Carmillas daughter she just stares for a long long moment and then she slowly looks up at Carmilla and chokes a bit before eventually asking what this meant...if this meant Carmilla had wanted or loved her and Carmilla just can't help but hug her close and whisper how she had been so wanted so so loved

"Show me."

"What?" Carmilla asks, trying to calm down, and allow Vaggie to calm herself down, as well.

"Show me the results. I need to see with my own eyes. Please!"

Still wiping tears from her eyes, Carmilla complies, and after rummaging around in her bag for a moment, pulls out a few leaflets of paper and hands them to Vaggie. The papers look so...boring and clinical. With a bunch of numbers, symbols, and indices that hold no meaning to Vaggie.

Except the result at the bottom, which is abundantly clear. Probability of parentage: 99.999997%. Vaggie's not a math person, but that seems statistically significant. Basically a certainty. Undeniable.

Vaggie places the papers down on her lap in front of her. She's visibly shaking now. Pushing them further down the bed, she seems to want to get them as far away from her as possible. Her head starts to spin, as she realizes her breathing is labored, like she's hyperventilating. Carmilla seems to recognize it too, because she's by her side in a fraction of a second. A large, strong hand is placed securely on her back, saying, "Breathe, mi querida."

Vaggie wants to tell her to stop calling her that. The test may be undeniable, but she's not...she's not this woman's darling. Not her mija, not her daughter, not anything. They just met barely a month ago. This woman doesn't know anything about her, has no right to be this affectionate, this parental, or...whatever else she feels entitled to.

"Please, stop," Vaggie begs, pleading with Carmilla, and pushing her hand away. "Please, Carmilla."

"I'm sorry," Carmilla says, a huge lump evident in her throat by the way her voice cracks. "I just wanted to...to comfort you."

"What, like a mom would?" Vaggie asks, her voice full of mirth she hadn't realized she'd been harboring. "We may be related, but I don't even know you! You almost left Charlie and me to fend for ourselves during that last Extermination! Now I'm just supposed to let you hug me? Treat me like I belong to you? Like you care?"

"What? No! I didn't know! That's not--!"

"What is it, then? Huh?! What kind of mother puts herself in a position to be killed when she's pregnant? Was I that expendable to you? Did you even care if you survived? If I did?"

"Vaggie, stop it--"

"Did you even want me in the first place?!"

"STOP!"

Carmilla's voice is so loud, it practically shakes the walls of the hospital room. Vaggie shrinks away, folding her small body in on itself out of fear of the woman losing control right in front of her. She covers her eye, expecting to be hit, like Adam or her commander would do sometimes. Her body is tense. She's bracing for it. But when nothing else happens, she opens her eye again, wondering at the impact that never comes.

Instead of an overlord, or a demon standing there, she sees a tired, defeated woman, using every bit of strength she has not to collapse into a heap on the floor in front of her. Carmilla is still crying. She looks back at Vaggie, and takes a few tentative steps toward her. When Vaggie doesn't protest, but looks up at her instead, full of an ache she didn't know needed to be filled, Carmilla collapses on the bed.

Carmilla doesn't ask permission. All of Carmilla's better judgement has already left her body, so everything that comes next is out of pure instinct. She needs Vaggie to understand. If Vaggie would only listen, she would know how much--how long she'd been--

"I'm sorry," Carmilla says, taking Vaggie into her arms, crying openly and longingly into the little angel's soft hair. "I'm so sorry. There's never been a day--a moment that's gone by that I haven't thought about you. Worried about you. Wondered where you'd gone and if you were okay."

Carmilla cradles the back of Vaggie's head tenderly, pulling her closer into her chest, where she used to hold her other girls. Where they'd always felt safest.

"You were always wanted. You were so, so loved. I...we cried for you. Grieved for you. Mourned the person we never knew. Please, Vaggie, believe me. We wanted you so, so much, mija."

Vaggie's not sure if she believes her. Not sure what to think. This is all too soon...too sudden...too much of a shock to her system. She's not even certain if she's in her right mind at this moment.

The emotion in the room is intense. Maybe it's the adrenaline of the last few days, or the pain medications finally kicking in. Whatever the reason, Vaggie grips Carmilla's shirt tightly. So tightly, her nails start to pierce fabric. She sobs into Carmilla's shoulder. Carmilla's shirt is soaked with her tears, but the older woman doesn't seem to care, and holds the fallen angel through it.

[merakiui]

I still can't get over the love catting of boyfriend floyd ask I sent a while ago >~<!!! The thought of floyd staring longingly at you from across the campus, him having a visceral hatred of riddle for stealing you. I bet he originally wanted to get with riddle bc she was interesting to him buy now that's the furthest thing that he could ever want now. I wants her dead. He thinks abt killing her when he's home alone at his now partyless apartment, the thinks abt how he wants her blood on his hands when he sees her hand in hand with you when walking around, he especially wants her dead when he watches her fuck you in on her bed through her window >_<.

What does goldfishie have that he doesn't? He has money, looks connections and is fun. He has everything to ensure you have a good life. Yeah he cheated on you a few times but he spent a year repenting for his past transgressions ans is now ready and so willing to be your perfect loving boyfriend please. If he could go back in time he'd never would have fucked those other guppies if he knew it would end with you leaving him for goldfishie

- Lily anon

Omg yes,,,, orz and Floyd knows he has to be careful not to get caught because then Riddle, annoyingly clever as always, could get him in trouble for stalking. >:/ she's probably waiting for him to slip up or do something that will get him into legal trouble. While Floyd may want her dead, Riddle fondly hopes for the day in which Floyd can be out of your life for good. Aaaaaa she's so crazy and obsessed. But at the end of the day, it's her you fall into bed with. She understands you're still reeling from your previous relationship and so she can be patient. Whether best friends or more, it's okay so long as you're here with her.

You agree to hang out with Floyd because he's been begging you for another chance. And if not romance, you can try to stay on friendly terms. You're not sure what you feel for Floyd, but a meal is a meal. Riddle tags along, terribly coy and dressed up as if this is a date for her and you. Floyd hates it. He tries to drive her away by being annoying, but she persists. Most of the meal is spent with them exchanging cutting barbs, Floyd's sour glare evenly matched with Riddle's pleasant simper. Oh, she's so proud of herself. So happy. And the way she holds your arm, the way she looks at you, the way she dabs at your mouth with her napkin when you have chocolate smeared on your lips from dessert.......... it's annoying.

Floyd just doesn't get it. What do you see in her? Sure, she's your friend, but Floyd was your boyfriend. Floyd was more than a friend. He can't do anything to change the past, but he'll do better. He'll improve. He loves you, truly, and he's not sure what his past self was thinking. He has to prove this to you, otherwise he fears Goldfishie may end up having you all to herself. >_<

[aheathen-conceivably]

Back at the cottage, the sound of playing children and laughter could be heard from nearly every room of the house. Summer and Isaiah’s children were just as rambunctious as Zelda expected, roping Violette into all of their games and lifting the remaining melancholia from the air.

Even Wally, who would usually rather read alone than engage in such joviality, found the energy infectious; so he stayed amidst the noise rather than seek out the studious quiet that he and Virginia were used to in their own home.

The sounds echoed up the stairs into the small second story hallway, where Virginia and Zelda were standing outside of Rosella’s old room. They were both staring at the door as though it sheltered a trove of terrifying secrets, silently daring the other to be the first to open it.

Zelda went forward, her hand on the knob before Virginia could say a word. She turned the handle and eased open the door, letting out the smell of dust collecting in the sunshine.

They stopped in the doorway, marveling at the accumulation of toys and memorabilia, before Zelda pushed the door open wider and walked into the center of the room, “Goodness, Virginia. Have Mother and Isaiah been using it for storage all these years? With brother’s growing family you do think they would have need of it, perhaps transformed it into something more useful.”

Zelda’s question snapped Virginia back to reality and she followed her sister into the room. Her characteristically sharp countenance returned to her face as though the fear had never been there, “I see the new world has made you a bit bolder hasn’t it, sister? We can’t all be so comfortable around things that continue to pain us.”

She turned away before Zelda could respond, searching the room for what she had come for, “Hell, where is it? So many trinkets amongst so few people. I could have sworn they told me it was up here somewhere…”

“Ah-ha! Here it is,” Virginia bent down, moving books and toys out of her way, “I wouldn’t think that you had heard, but a few years ago Harrington Estate fell on hard times….”

Virginia paused momentarily to allow herself a triumphant, gloating smile, “Modernity finally caught up with the old ways, I suppose. Lord Harrington had to break up the whole thing and sell it off piece by piece. During the process he sent a servant down here with this package...”

Without an ounce of the fanfare that the moment called for, Virginia pulled a bright, gilded frame from behind the dresser and propped it up on a trunk, “He said they found this in one of the rooms, thought we might like to have it after what happened.”

The very gravity of the room seemed to shift, recentering itself on the pair of bright green eyes looking off into the distance longingly. Throughout the last seventeen years Zelda had only seen Rosella in a handful of family photos; but none of them compared to this: her sister lovingly painted in a fine formal gown, her curls flowing over her shoulders and rubies draped around her neck.

The painting was rendered in exacting, lifelike colors that Zelda could hardly recall looking at the sepia photographs of their youth, giving the illusion that Rosella was once again back in her room with her sisters, telling them stories of her life at the manor.

Zelda stared forward, unbelieving, “Virginia, I don’t…I don’t understand. What was this doing there? For god’s sake who would have painted it? And how utterly strange that her hair is down; she never would wear it down, even at home. You must remember that, don’t you?”

Virginia didn’t take her eyes off the painting, perhaps so that her own expression wouldn’t give away what she knew of the Harringtons. In answer she kept her gaze averted and shrugged her shoulders, “Whatever it may be, I thought you might like to have it. Perhaps you’re the only one left who can really still look at it and feel joy.”

Zelda eyes shined, “You’re right, sister. And it gives me another idea.”

(My immense and immeasurable thanks to the amazing @scythesms for this lovely painting. Without you this scene would be nothing more than an idea and I appreciate you greatly ❤️)

[heyitsmechuey]

When it Rains, It Doesn’t Always Pour (Rauru x Reader)

Rauru x Reader Fluff Shot - No content warnings

It’s Rauru just being Rauru (or at least my perception of him; soft and sweet, and very convincing in his ways when he wants to be ;) I haven’t wrote for a while, and this is my first time writing for TotK, but there really isn’t any spoilers in this one! I did proof read but please understand there still may be errors Word Count: 742 words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Heavy rain padded softly on the stone railing beneath your uncovered arms, effectively dampening them as you looked longingly toward the fields of Hyrule where small pools formed within the courtyard. It wasn’t supposed to rain today, but it did, and now more than ever you felt anxious and trapped within the castle’s hard, stone interior - your only saving grace being the balcony for a moment to reflect, fearing the dreariness. A soft sigh left your lips as you cupped your chin in your hand, accepting the defeat that going out to explore the lands with your husband was now out of the question.

You felt like a child being punished, and thought yourself childish too, for acting so sombre over an uncontrollable aspect. At least 10 minutes passed, staring into a landscaped void and feeling sour in your own thoughts. “The time will not pass any faster if you watch it, you know?” The sound of his soft gravelly voice snapped you from your depressive state, and the chuckle that followed made you forcibly pout as you spun your heels around, looking upwards at the playful features he displayed for you. He didn’t seem bothered by cancelled plans at all. His regal capabilities surfaced as he chose to carry out other duties earlier that day, but now what was left was a lover - playful but wise. You sighed again before attempting to justify yourself. “I know...”, your confession came slow as your gaze studied the floor, “but we had plans..” His hands came from where they rested behind his back, to folding over themselves once again in the front, waiting patiently for you to have your moment. When your eyes darted back up to check him, a pitiful smile let him know that you were okay and visibly, he loosened up and took gentle but determined steps forward. When he held his hands out, you instinctively followed, placing your own on top of large, outreached palms. Taking a moment to run your thumb over the faint lines, you let out a puffed laugh as he visibly shuddered under your touch; like it was the only thing keeping his heart beating. He studied you, then proceeded trail his hand up to your cheek and moved your sullen gaze to align with his. It didn’t matter what time of day it was, Rauru had a natural, calming charm at all hours, and he was smart enough to know how to get you to forget the little irritations with ease - with love. “Come, we can make new ones.”

He brushed lightly at the locks in your face, dampened by the rain that rode the wind. On the second sweep, he leaned in closer until warm breath against cold skin was tickling you,

“I can prepare some tea and then we can have a moment to ourselves for once.”

His voice was like honey, convincing you to turn a blind eye to your worries, to take only him in, and forget that there was a problem in the first place.

You felt suspicious for that reason, catching on after years together that his hold on your heart was powerful. With an eyebrow raising uncontrollably, you had to ask: ‘Just us?’. You reflect on how long it had been just the two of you for company; whether it be chatting, reading, or playing chess to pass the time. There was a sting for loss and you cursed on Ganon for taking such tender moments from you, leaving you desperate to want your King as a partner, not a diplomat. Rauru gave a curt nod, fingers coming to rest on the small of your back, giving a delicate push to signal it was time to get out of the cold. “You have my word, my love.” You trusted his words, always, and allowed him to escort you back inside. The corners of his mouth twitched upward, closed but cocky as you gave into him his touch - a sense of accomplishment filling him as you straightened yourself up and ditched the previous sadness for a genuine better mood. His lips were soft and sweet as he placed an endearing kiss upon your head, muttering that he loves you as the two of you retreat into the warmth. You could go out tomorrow - weather permitting - but if it rained again, the thought of spending it indoors with him, didn’t sound all that bad.

[loadednachosao3]

i really want to start writing fanfic but im not good with words, do you mayhaps have some advice? please lacho lord pretty please😭

answering this while I'm a little zonked outta my gourd since it's thunderstorming and that's setting off my chronic illness, but never fear LN is here

if you worry you're not good with words, my biggest tips would be...

the age-old "show, don't tell!" now, sometimes telling is just fine, if it makes the writing read smoother. there's nothing wrong with occasional cliches or saying "he's really fucking sad" when the moment calls for it. but, say you wanna really make sure we know he's sad. you can write, "his lower lip trembled, and he bit it to make it stop. as tears stung at his eyes, he looked up at his lifelong friend and felt a heaviness on his heart that he feared would never lighten." or something!

this does NOT extend to using epithets (epithets being things like "the blonde," "the veteran," "the blue-eyed woman," etc.). please try to use those as sparingly as possible. I know sometimes it seems like you NEED to because pronouns get confusing, but I PROMISE you, if you write a certain way, your readers will be smart enough to figure out who you mean -- even in a same-sex scene! take for example: "Nacho looked at Lalo, and he seemed sad. Why, he wondered? Because he'd turned him down?" on its own, you may be like, "which he turned him down? who's wondering?" but if you've already written Nacho turning Lalo down in a previous scene, and used the tips above to convey sadness from Lalo in the previous paragraph, and have been writing this whole time from third-person limited POV, obviously you don't need to go, "Why, Nacho wondered? Because Nacho had turned the chipper don down?" clunky!!!

speaking of "third-person limited!" learn about what perspectives are used in writing. pick one. stick to it for the duration of your story. so, if you're doing third-person limited, you can write, "Nacho wondered why Lalo was acting so strange. He didn't understand what was going through the guy's head." but third-person limited is LIMITED to what Nacho knows, more or less, so you could not then say in the next (or worse, same) paragraph: "Lalo was sulking because he couldn't believe Nacho had the audacity to treat him like that. He loved him, couldn't he tell? Lalo was so upset he could cry." if you want to explore what's in both of their heads, use third-person omniscient instead (which I personally have a lot of trouble getting right, because it can be hard to keep a consistent narrative going if you can bounce between multiple people's heads -- try alternating third-person limited POVs between chapters as a good in-between! so one chapter from Nacho's, the next from Lalo's, the next from Nacho's, etc.). first-person (I did this, I did that) is often not well-received in fandom, but can work. second-person (you did this, you did that) works best for quirkier things (see: Homestuck, my first lacho game) or x reader stories.

try to avoid too much word repetition unless it's intentional/thematic. see the difference between these passages: "He wanted to make Lalo want him, but he didn't want him to hate him. As he stared out the window at the rain pattering on the window's surface, he wondered if he'd drown in the rain if he couldn't make up his mind soon." OR "He wanted Lalo to want him. But, as he stared longingly out the window at the rain, he couldn't help but wonder if his plan would make Lalo's warm feelings turn to hatred instead. Water dripped down the glass, and he knew he needed to make up his mind." there, we take away the repetition of the words want, rain, and window, in some cases replacing them with synonyms (water, glass). we also use "wanted Lalo to want him" as a minor bit of thematic/stylistic repetition. now, there is NOTHING wrong with using similar words adjacent to each other, particularly if they're very common! and you don't need to bust out the thesaurus to tell us Nacho desires Lalo as he observes the H2O running down the aperture or some overly-complex shit like that. but when you repeat the same words too much too close together, it becomes very noticeable, and will take your reader out of the story.

these are the biggest things I see people doing poorly that will make me less likely to read a fic. but honestly, I (and many other people) will put up with a lot of fumbles for a good story! so don't be too hard on yourself. I'm sure you've got some great ideas to put into the world!

remember: at the end of the day, we're all nerds doing this for FUN and for FREE as a HOBBY. don't judge yourself by professional writing standards! everyone here just wants to have fun! and if someone is mean to you about your fic, that says more about their sad little life than your work.

have fun writing!

[syebrry]

❝ CLOCK STRIKES TWELVE... ❞

╭∘ SUMMARY ... how do certain blue lock men love at midnight ?

–∘ WARNINGS ... no mentions of reader's gender/pronouns, metion of toxic relationships, ooc characters, not proofread, fluff, slight angst! lmk if I missed any

–∘ FEATURING ... isagi yoichi, chigiri hyoma, kunigami rensuke, itoshi rin, and mikage reo

╰∘ DEAR DIARY ... first work for blue lock! I might write a second part to this except it's the "angstier" songs within midnights or a different album! but we'll see. for now please enjoy🫶

TRACK ONE LAVENDER HAZE

A lavender haze was formerly used to describe being in love. It was said that if you were in a lavender haze meant that you were in that all-encompassing love glow. Maybe that’s how ISAGI YOICHI would describe your relationship, your love was so addicting that he couldn’t help but wish to keep it all to himself, you made him feel as if he was on cloud 9 because of your neverending affirmations and touches, those moments where your lips graced him or when you leave yourself vulnerable in his arms the moment he joins you in bed, every moment with you may it be small or extravagant has been etched to his memory Yet, with his reputation as blue lock's ace, there were people who wanted to bring your relationship down, be it because of jealousy or hatred. Yet he didn’t let any of that break your relationship, he loves you, and he’s willing to do anything for you. Maybe in the future, he’d find himself standing in front of the altar, exchanging vows with you, promising to spend the remainder of his life with you, the love of his life.

TRACK FOUR SNOW ON THE BEACH

It all started as a friendship, which grew to you both harboring feelings for one another the more you hung out together, it was so obvious to others, but not to you. It was so painful to watch you both stare at each other longingly, with so much love and admiration swirling in your eyes. The moment you finally confessed after pinning on him for so long, that snowy night by the beach. CHIGIRI HYOMA at first did not understand, but when it finally dawned on him, he looked at you, eyes glazed with confusion, but his face was beet red, he couldn’t help it, all this time you were in love with him? Like how he was with you? He looked around, mind still not processing the words you just said “Wait, is this real? Is this a dream? Is this for real? Is it really happening?” were the only thoughts he had. He was excited to venture more into this relationship, fall deeper in love and experience things with you. He watched as the snow fell on the surface of the sand, it was such a weird but beautiful phenomenon.

TRACK TEN LABYRINTH

You dreamed of falling in love when you were younger, yet love hurt you, it tore you up into pieces, and it broke you. KUNIGAMI RENSUKE is a dear friend of yours, someone who never left your side before your former toxic relationship came to be. He was the one who helped you whenever you found yourself breaking down when it all became too much to handle, and when you finally left that relationship. He was there, like always. You thought that you would never find love anymore, not after all that pain. How wrong you were. When you find yourself seeking more of his presence and comfort, finding yourself looking for him in a crowd, it becomes clear to you, you are falling in love again. You were in a state of denial, maybe it was fear that kept you away from accepting your feelings, fear that he would turn out like your former relationship, the fear that he would hurt you and leave you hanging. Yet he didn’t, he never did leave or hurt you. He helped you heal, emotionally and physically. As time passed, those feelings you had for him that you tried to push back, resurfaced once more, much more intense and ardent. You didn’t push them back anymore, instead, you welcomed the feeling, allowing yourself to be vulnerable to love once more, you gave your heart to him, knowing he’d never break it.

TRACK TWELVE SWEET NOTHING

Home, that was what he felt like whenever he was with you. ITOSHI RIN found comfort and solace by being with you. He is not a man of many words, yet he always finds himself in an endless rant on how much he loves you, cares for you, and you who gave him another chance at experiencing genuine love. At the end of every day, after a game or an exhausting day at practice. He finds himself craving, and running home to your sweet nothings. All those hushed promises, declarations of love, and lingering kisses, while he held you tightly in his arms, were the best moments of his day. that cold facade and the walls he spent years building up crumble upon your every touch and your every word.

TRACK SIXTEEN PARIS

You were someone MIKAGE REO loved in private, yet never in secret. The fans were aware that a certain someone captured the heir's heart. Yet they don’t know just how much love he had to give, the way his eyes softened and his body physically relaxing the moment he sees you, the way those captivating eyes never miss your figure in a crowded room, a mountain of love letters he sent you under the alias “your only love”, and those subtle yet obvious telltale signs that he needs you with him. Yet all of that is only for you both to see, not for the public. You’re both in your own little world when alone, a world where there’s only you, him, and your love for each other. Call him lovesick, he’s willing to get called such names if it means having his claim on you. He loves you, and he is yours, just as you are his.

© krnzysh 2023 — do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my works without prior permission and/or confirmation on any platform!

[ranposbabe]

Infidel | Johan Liebert x Reader

Chapter 18

The fool sat practically shaking in his seat, acting the part of an utter example of pathetic and pitiable.

Nonetheless the man still remained restless in his seat. “I-I’ve told you everything !” The man stutters, his widen eyes race around the boring and plain room.

“Johan !”

The complete opposite was sat across from him. His presence felt like a spirit surely there to torment him.

Composed and calm Johan sat with a glazed look in his sapphire eyes.

Johan didn’t even attempt to make eye contact and that made it all the worse.

It was as if the man wasn’t even worth a glance from him. He would’ve preferred a cold stare than this belittlement.

To him it felt like Johan was looking down at him despite Johan’s eyes just on his lap.

Just him remaining in silence had him shaking. A true example of the obvious power dynamic.

Laid out on the coffee table was three photographs taken the previous day.

All three of you. All photos in black and white, two full body shots of you walking towards the old church. One was just of your face. The light that shined through the window landed seemingly only on that picture. Your eyes briefly looking down with a slight raise to your brows and pout on your lips.

No colour was needed to see your beauty.

Johan leaned forward to grab the one close up photo that showed your face.

He stared longingly as his finger traces around your eyes. The halfwit noted that Johan staring at your picture was the only time Johan dared to raise his own eyes.

He looked as if he was in a complete trance. A trance that he wouldn’t mind staying in.

“Her eyes don’t hold that darkness that she may think she has. She doesn’t view it that way but hers are much purer than thought.”

The dunce understood no word that came past Johan’s lips. If he the idiot had to guess, sure you looked tired and bothered.

He didn’t even know who you were.

He was just given instructions to follow and yet he wasn’t sure why he had to go to such lengths. You weren’t an important figure, practically a nobody but he wondered perhaps that was why Johan looked your way.

He didn’t know your relationship to Johan. Hell he wasn’t sure if you even had one.

He may not have even half a brain yet he had the sense to not question Johan about you. Especially of what exactly you are to him. He feared his tongue would be cut.

“If they did hold that darkness then perhaps she would’ve known sooner.”

Johan was no ordinary man.

If he was anyone could tell that Johan had a better understanding of you than anyone else. Perhaps even yourself.

But Johan spoke of you in such a complex way the fearful man couldn’t tell whether Johan’s words were filled with love or not.

Of course Johan didn’t care to trust him.

It was clear that it was useless to have someone do the task. It was obvious now.

Johan was the only one that could do what needed to be done.

The sudden thought of someone being near you and that someone not being him made Johan certain of what next to do.

What was necessary to do.

“I’ve kept my promise. It’s coming so close. So soon.” Johan spoke only to himself. “I won’t let anyone get in my way.”

It was then when he stood Johan looked at him. The man filled with regret suddenly wished that he didn’t look at all.

Without effort Johan pulled out a gun so swiftly the man failed to register that Johan even carried it on him.

A single glance down at the picture of your face was all it took for Johan to focus and aim the gun at the man.

A second was all it took when Johan closed his eyes and all his saw was your face and at that Johan didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

if you wish to be added to the taglist please comment below to let me know!!!

TAGLIST: @nimuelis @meigalahadovna @sugaredpersimmon @thesimpupthesky

[no-nic]

rin week 2024 unused ideas

🐚💜🌠

day 2: stars [fic/poem] dreams of being close to the stars in a society that doesn't even have airplanes, let alone space exploration scrapped, may be reworked into an unrelated (still rin-core) poem.

day 4: amnesia [fic] character exploration. amnesiac rin trying to find anything about her past personality, getting very different answers from people vs factual evidence. indie horror game vibes scrapped.

day 5&6 fusion: rival & bodyswap [art & fic] rin is inner sakura. rin can "swap in" sometimes. lowered headband, blood smears on her cheeks (pieces of first draft just to get it out of my head)

Something clicks for Sakura when she passes a tightly huddled group of parents at the playground. “That’s the demon boy.” “I’ve heard. The demon is in him.” “Same thing honestly.” “Psst, you know we can’t talk about that.” They pointedly don’t look towards the blond boy. He is about her age, blond and whiskered. He is standing near the edge of the playground, longingly staring at the other kids who are playing ninja. Sakura doesn’t stop walking. There is a demon in him. She needs to be alone. But she is never alone. There is an ever present ball of rage in the back of her mind. There is a demon in her. Sakura is six years old and ready to attend the academy. It just feels right. She is going to be a shinobi, so her parents don’t find it alarming that she spends hours in the library studying everything. Ever since she’s learned to read she’s been looking and looking. She hasn’t told anyone. She can’t. The presence has a few emotions it emanates: rage, desperation, loneliness, jealousy, some more rage, and fear of discovery.

work in progress, may be built into a bigger story.

day 6: truth potion [fic] things she wouldn't say even in her internal monologue!

The kidnapped girl sits quietly. She is smiling and looking vacantly forward. The jutsu should be working already. “Tell me about your friends.” The girl is smiling. “What friends?” “That Uchiha boy and Hatake. Tell me about them.” “I daydream about vivisecting them. Every day. I only fear they will die before I get to them. They are so weird. Sensei likes them more than me, which is fine, because I don’t like him either. I pretend to have a crush on Kakashi but if I had to choose I would marry Obito. I like his eyes. I want to eat them sometimes…” The man puts her to sleep with a genjutsu. He glares at his comrades. “I told you that the kinjutsu they sold us was complete rubbish. ‘Truth jutsu’ my ass! She’s just making fun of us!”

abandoned, another prompt chosen (body-swap).

day 7: [no prompt] [mini zine] inspired by the databook entries that describe rin as "kind, intellectual, devoted", i'm Just Asking Questions. reads like a conspiracy rag it's on a4 paper, 8 tiny pages in total, and i kinda want to make it printable? like i don't know if anyone would even care, but it's just one page, and if was drawn digitally, thin black lines on white (or whatever color paper you stuff in there), easy to print & fold pdf...?

cut off text:

when was she kind? when she threw herself forward or just stood in the way of an unstopable force with a thousand birds already celebrating her corpse

work in progress, haunts me & needs to be perfect.

well that's all folks! 🌟 and remember:

every week can be rin week if you like rin! 💜🔪

(onwards to rock lee week 2024)

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

Spell book - Page 35: Transformation Spells Continued

Natsume x MTF!Reader

CW: Some gender envy and implied dysphoria. But it's ok I promise!

A/N: I felt the first part of the MTF!Reader in this was waaaaay to short so I wrote some more for it!

-------

After the stress of coming out to Natsume had faded away into joy they quickly began planning what to do. While the medical side of things may take time to transform her body closer to what she desires she decided to focus on what they can change now: her clothes.

Now don't get her wrong, she knew that changing her wardrobe would be hard, but why are there so many options?! Her eyes widen absolutely floored by how many options and styles for a single sweater there are.

"If that's how you react to just one sweaTER, then I don't think you'll survive seeing the shirt secTION." Natsume snickers when she squeaks in shock after peeking at the mentioned section behind him looking at it in awe and mild fear.

"There's so many...the men's section...the men's section doesn't have THIS many options." She mumble to herself. "I think I'm gonna pass out."

Natsume shakes his head grabbing a little garment cart and hanging the items they had their eyes on onto it.

"You can pass out after you've gotten yourself a nice wardROBE. Now come oN, the clothes won't find or wear themselVES."

And like that they've spent what felt like hours finding this and that for her to wear. They were headed to the jeans when she spotted it: a swimsuit. Her eyes stare at it and the pretty model on the advertisement board longingly.

She lifts the swimsuit off the rack examining it closely. It was so nice and just the right color and pattern and while it looked great on the model would it look good on her? Looking at the tag it was like her heart dropped. She felt. She's not sure how she feels but it was enough to make her want to forget about this swimsuit and the shopping trip and-

She was just about to put it back when Natsume guided her hands to hang it onto the cart. His face serious and determined.

"You shouldn't deprive yourself of things you truly wanT. You'll look great in this and we can get you tucking taPE. I've found a site that has-" his rambling stops when they place a hand on his taking back the swimsuit.

"-It's the wrong size Natsume." They giggle.

Natsume's face flushes quickly gathering his phone as they put the swimsuit back onto the rack.

"W-We can find it on-onliNE-" his fingers frantically tap on his phone trying to find the swimsuit on the stores website. Seeing they have the right size he quickly shows them his phone ready to add it to his cart.

"We can order it and pick it up HERE-" His voice dies as he feels a soft pressure on his cheek. Standing up straight with the brightest smile on her face.

"Thank you Natsume."

[denim-lich]

Dearest Barry,

I hope the job is treating you well but you must know that I miss you Darling; I miss your warmth, how soft you are to fall into and how safe you make me feel when you hold me. I miss your voice, the sweet melody of your songs you only ever play just for me and the sound of your infectious laughter. I miss the way your lips curl when you smile at my jokes- without you here there really isn't anyone else to share them, you know. I also terribly miss cleaning your glasses for you- do tell, are they smudged as you read my words? I bet they are- you never notice but alas, that's long since become my job to tend to them and I take pride in keeping your vision perfectly clear to admire me best, for we both know only you can admire me in the way I deserve most, now isn't that right? Never fear, my Sweet; I'll give you a moment to clean them before you continue since I've much to say…………… All clean? Now then, as I was saying, I do miss you ardently and since you left, there's been a great deal I'd like to share with you.

First things first, our ‘fur children’ as you so enjoy calling them. Mabel hasn't stopped staring longingly out the window, looking for you poor pet. I can hardly blame her. Dipper has remained his usual mischievous self- he almost surprised me yesterday morning but alas, as long as I still retain these vampiric senses, I'm afraid I'll still have to keep playing pretend for his sake. Astrid is well… Astrid- same old sour puss although I kid you not my Love, she has taken to laying on one of your old shirts that had been lying around. I was planning on washing it but cannot bring myself to do so, not with her appearing to miss you so.

It's not just our cats that seem to miss you- the strays seem to have noticed your absence as well and have taken to looking around whenever I visit with them as if they are searching for you. Speaking of the strays, there's what seems to be a new stray in town; looks like a female, quite small and black all over with citrine coloured eyes. Rather skittish, but I'm certain she will warm up to me by the time you return, I'll be sure of that. It'll be lovely to walk hand in hand with you once more to say ‘hello’ to our little wild friends once you return home to me- perhaps we can even have ourselves a lovely romantic stroll while we do. Wouldn't that be marvelous, Darling?

Oh, by the by, Karlach and Wyll would like to plan a double date when you return. Naturally, I told them that sounded splendid and that I would let them know when you were back but of course you well know I mean that I will tell them a day or two after you are truly back and settled in- I'm afraid I will require at least that much time to make up for the lack of warmth your absence has left in its wake. What they don't know won't hurt them after all. Oh, Darling, I look forward to having you home; it will be such a relief to see you and have your lovely singing fill the air once more. Do write to me soon, and know that I will be counting every day until I can find peace once more in your loving embrace. I love you. I'm looking forward to you returning so I may show you just how much.

Yours always,

Astarion

@sincerely-your-fo

I'm yelling and smiling and flapping my hands so much, this is so utterly perfect, thank you so much!! You did an amazing job with this and it makes me so happy each time I reread it! 😊💜💖💗

[dearlydarlingdahlia]

Coping with Insignificance

At 3 am, I felt insecure about posting my recent writing project.

I was just worried no one would like it or that it would upset someone for no reason. I feared radio silence. Was this going to be like a tree falling but no one hears it? Even if I wasn't going to get hate, I wondered if insignificance was worse.

I got up before sunrise and I lied down on our large floor pillows in the bedroom. I closed my eyes and hugged myself. I tried my best to tell myself that "I am enough" regardless of my writing.

In my mind, I saw my recent writing printed out and I chucked it into the void of nothingness. As it shot through dark, I saw it radiating with a bright light, transforming into a comet flying through a starry sky. I thought to myself that it was shining for me and how lovely that was. My therapist encouraged me to believe that somewhere out there it means something to someone else too, even if they're in some far distant corner of the universe.

My therapist is an artist, and one of her fellow artist friends told her that a third of people aren't going to care about your work, a third will hate it, and a third will love it. I think I tend to focus too much on the two thirds who will probably never care for my style.

I'm too used to relying on others' opinions to feel enough or define myself as a person. It's like my mind is a house, and I've let people in who shouldn't be welcome and now they're redesigning all my decor. When no one is visiting, I stare longingly outside the window, yearning to be acknowledged.

I've been conditioned to strive for perfection to protect my peace. Unknowingly stepping out of line could lead to a threat to my emotional safety. I grew to take responsibility for others' feelings because it's how I learned to survive.

As we discussed what it meant to have a secure sense of self, I imagined building my sense of self out of play dough. When I saw the amorphous, lumpy mess in my mind, I thought about how ugly it looked. Then, I wondered why it needed to be smooth or one color, and if it mattered what it looked like. Even imperfect, it's mine. It's worth protecting. It may be easily malleable now, and that's okay.

I'm still trying to figure out how to have a healthier relationship with sharing my work. Sometimes, I feel like I dehumanize myself and turn myself into a story telling or smut peddling machine. It's in part an escape, but also a desperation to feel seen.

Although I'm proud of my past work, it's like I struggle to get secure footing as a writer. I worry that if my next work doesn't meet the expectations I have of myself, I'll no longer be "good" or "enough." As though it'll erase all of my growth and progress.

I want to feel enough even if my work is garbage. I want to feel enough even if I don't write at all. Although all my work is virtual, I want to imagine giving it a big hug and holding it close to my heart. Maybe my heart would shine and absorb every word. I would feel alive. I would be seen even if only by me. Even if my writing is ugly, I want to know within the depths of my soul that I matter and I am enough.

The imagery above makes me think of my inner child and how she felt ugly. She longed to be held, seen, and loved more. I don't think she would have expected me to write like I am now, but I think she would be proud of who I am today.

[blazenka]

Mirroring Identities

Connor Temple believed he was close to returning to his own timeline and home. Instead he finds himself in a world that should not exist while he struggles with non-existent memories. Can he ever remember his identity? Pre/post Alice. Post Primeval S3.

Original source: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6106179/1/Mirroring-Identities

Chapters: 13

Published: 2010-07-03 - 2010-09-06  

Words: 19945

Rated: Fiction T - Language: English - Genre: Romance/Drama - Characters: Abby M., Hatter - Reviews: 86 - Favs: 13 - Follows: 15

Exported with the assistance of FicHub.net

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

a

b

Chapter 11:

"Everything al'ite, love?" David asked as he continued to glare at Jack and the way his hands were around Alice's. He couldn't help but feel as if he was in Wonderland again as Jack continued to stare longingly at Alice,  his Alice . She shook her head before commenting as she pulled her hands back, "No, Jack is just being his usual self," then asked, "Where did you go?"

"If you had answered my cell then I would have told you, wouldn't have I?" he said back. Yet when Alice just continued to stare up at him he gave in and told her, "I was in the park when it began to rain, then Abby let me go to her flat to see if I could remember anything." "Did you?" David solemnly nodded.

"That's why I tried to call you and then walked over here. I want you to come with me back to Abby's flat so we can all talk," David said and Alice instantly stood but so did Jack. "Jack…" Alice whispered hoping he would get the hint. "When I said 'we', mate, I meant Abby, Alice and myself, not you," David growled and Jack instantly backed off.

"Alice, can we speak for a moment, love?" he asked. Alice told Jack good bye and informed him they would keep him updated. David grasped her hand and she willingly followed him out of the café. David lead her to a private room and she feared what he could possibly wanted to talk about alone. "Alice, I recalled many of my memories while was at Abby's flat and… I'm so lost," he admitted finally.

Alice anxiety melted away as concern for David overwhelmed her. She finally realized David was just as scared as she was by the whole ordeal. "Hatter," she said using his old name affectionately, "Why don't we just go home?" she offered.

David was taken back for a moment. Alice never ran away from anything but now she was suggesting they forget everything they learned and just left now. "But Alice…" he began but then she cut him off, "When my dad remembered it was nice but also horrible painful. I don't really want to go through that again or have you go through anything like that."

"Alice," he said as he tried to soothe her. "If we leave now this would forever haunt me, you now that, love," he stated and of course, she understood. "I do love you," he said clearly as he wrapped his arms around her. "Mmmhmm," she mumbled into his chest.

"What was that, love?" David asked. "I said 'ditto'" she answered. "You still can't say it, can you?" he asked with a frustrated sigh as he let his arms drop. Alice didn't answer, simply followed him out the door and towards Abby's flat.

Abby practically jumped off the couch when she heard the doorbell ring. Who was she kidding; she did jumped then ran right to her door. "David!… and Alice," she stated with obvious disappointment. "Hello to you too," Alice said with irritation while David just nodded. "May we come in?" she asked. Abby put a smile on her face as she replied, "Of course," then moved out of the way.

Alice looked over the flat to notice the things that reminded her of David in the flat; she assumed they must have been Connor's. Yet, she wasn't sure who the Star Wars collections belong to. "So this was yours and Connor's flat?" Alice asked Abby. "It still is," Abby replied with her usual feistiness.

Alice continued to look around and David could not help but feel frightened with the two women in the small flat. "So, how long have you and David been together?" Abby asked as she continued to stare at the brunette. "Um, about two months now, right David?" she replied and he only managed a single nod. It was enough for Abby to see, "Connor and I were together for three years," she said confidently. "Livin' together," it was the first thing David managed to say.

"What?" Alice and Abby seemed to talk in unison as they faced David. "Well, truth be told, we weren't dating but just livin' together. We never started datin' while I was here," he corrected. Abby couldn't help but grimaced as Alice smiled like a victor. Alice then turned to the rest of the flat.

"Do you work out?" Alice asked as she spied the large punching bag. "Um, yes, I do. I also do kick boxing and some stuff," Abby answered before asking, "Do you work out?" Alice turned to her before modestly answering, "I teach karate." "Oh, like to kids?" Abby replied. David could not help but wince yet his facial expression went unnoticed by the women. "No, I teach all ages and difficulties at a dojo in New York," Alice defended herself before swinging the punching bag before turning back to a cross armed Abby.

The two women seemed to glare each other down for the longest time and David wished he had never suggested the two met. Suddenly, both women seemed to kick simultaneously at each other.

David was suddenly at a lost to do as he watched the two women he cared for… loved for fight each other. He couldn't exactly break them up as whoever was on his right could possibly be hurt by his 'sledgehammer'. He still had no clue if it was just as powerful in Alice's world as it was in Wonderland.

As luck would have it; it seemed that he did not need to find out. Becker and Danny rushed in and broke up the two up before anyone was seriously hurt. Sarah stare at the two women and then at David. "What did you do?" she said bitterly towards him. David raised his hand in the air in defense, "Nothing, just thought we could all talk." "Well, you thought wrong, obviously," Sarah remarked.

David sat in his own gloom as he stared blankly at his lager. "Are you going to drink that, Mate, or trying to ask it on a date?" Danny remarked as he took a swig of his own frothy beverage. "Hoping it would give me the answers I seek," he replied.

After Abby and Alice had calmed down, Sarah promptly kicked all the men out so the girls could 'talk'. David felt completely useless which is probably why he agreed to a trip to a pub with Danny and Becker. While Danny kept chatting David up, Becker at least respected the man's dilemma and kept quiet.

"You know, I realized somethin'," Danny began with drunken slur. David could not help but wonder if he had liked the man in his 'past' life. Right now, he most certainly did not. "You seem to have a thing… with blue eyed girls… who know how to fight," he finished with one of his fingers in David's face.

David just gapped at him and Becker shook his head. While David did not like the man, he spoke the truth. Abby and Alice were so alike while they were both so different. David didn't think he had certain attractions to girls but it would seem he did like feisty blue-eyed girls.

Becker must have been more intent on consoling him since he did not like what Danny was aiming at. "It must be hard to find this entire out in such a short time," Becker said a little more soberly than Danny had managed.

Suddenly, David phoned ringed and he hoped it had been Alice calling but it was just a text. "She's says she's back at the hotel waiting… with Jack," David sighed. Couldn't nothing ever go right for him? Just once? Becker nodded in understanding, "Wonder what Sarah talked to the both of them about." David just shrugged, he had no idea.

"Well, looks like you've got yourself an important decision to make," Danny stated with a slight grin. "What are you talkin' about?" David and Becker seemed to mumble at the same time. "David, you can't have either of them or live in two places at once so unless you find a way to clone yourself…" Then Becker stepped in, "You're goin' to have to choose between Abby and Alice." David looked solemnly down at his lager with the grim realization he was going to have to choose, but who would he choose?

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[kael-writ]

The Wandering Ghost

Before I died I knew firmly I wanted to haunt this city, all of it, greedily, ravenous. I wonder if I am the first wandering ghost to haunt the subways and elevated trains, stumbling across sidewalks like a lost mindless drunk, as invisible as I ever was.

Doesn’t feel much different, really. I never rest, I never tire, I am always tired. I still fear the angry men on the trains, and I never know if they will suddenly see me. but I love my rides, my long walks in the night.

The streets seem to shift so suddenly now, even though the journey is still endlessly, neverendingly, long. Now I am in Humboldt Park, on the north side, and the street ahead of me is Division, where the proud metal skeleton of the Puerto Rican flag stands strong above over the street, the trans flag beside the Puerto Rican flag over the community center, the sound of motorcycles and smells of empanadas, coffee, maduras, marijuana, and gasoline… but then as I approach it, it becomes Cermak on the south side, the great arch, Bienvenidos a Little Village, La Villita, the Mexican bakery with their perfect white frosted strawberry topped cakes in the windows.

And the best time here, when the Dia de Los Muertas joyful skeletons in their flowered finery greet me; as the spirits of the ancestors give me a nod on their way home to their Ofrendas.

It is always cold, it is always fall. It is always dusk or night, never dawning. I don't know how many years it has been since Ive seen a Summer, or even a sun. I don't know how long I've wandered. I know I must walk every street. I don't know how many I've walked already, how many times, how many left.

The people are more and more a blur, and their vehicles, and the streets and buildings never seem to change except a glimpse here and there, a flash of something strange, the veil falls just for a moment, or a house that stands in my world burnt or turned to rubble, a flash of construction, a strange new structure - then it goes away, fades back again into the same old house it always was and to me always must be, and I forget. Thus I am nearly always stuck in a fog of frozen time except for glimpses of static of a future I can't fully reach, fully be part of, I am disembodied, I am Mostly Dead, and I am not really here and not really gone, as I wander.

I wander the train tracks and highway underpasses. I do not know if the tents I see are ghost tents from the past or unfortunate souls of today, fully real and alive, struggling to stay alive. I dont know what or when or where "today" is, what real is, anymore.

Sometimes the very drunk can catch a glimpse of me. From a tent, or well dressed on a street corner, or the wide porch stoop of a party. I drank while I lived, in all these haunts. In a way I am free of that now, there is no more of that, no more to fight, no more misery, no more mistakes. Yet by the same token, there is no more triumph, no more joy. I am almost nothing, but a shadow.

And one night a year, the children can see me, some of them. Some of them dressed, themselves, as ghosts, in a simple sheet, as death, as skeletons, cloaked reapers, as relics of the past, as angels and demons, as cartoon jesters and cuddly bears and plump Jack O Lanterns. And they see me, these children of the night, of this night. And they may smile, or shrink, as children do. But mostly they just stare, and stare. And no one else sees.

And sometimes the old ones, too, may see me. Those themselves close to the veil. They stare too, just as unnoticed as the little ones. Sadly, stoically, angrily, longingly, terrified, resigned, they stare.

And after all there is nothing any of us can do, but stare, and then to depart, on our ways. I want nothing from them. I have nothing to give them. We see, we stare, we disappear. In an instant I am in another time and place, and have forgotten and been forgotten, but for a flickering shadow against a flame, as the embers die, the smoke smothers, the dark night closes in.

There is nowhere else Ive ever been, and nowhere else I will ever be, forever I will wander these streets.

Patreon finally added a "join for free" option so if you want to keep up with my posts FOR FREE, you can now be a member!

[earthtooz]

x : POCKY GAME ! :*+ﾟ

in which: you play the pocky game w/ various bllk boys!

warnings: gn!reader, ooc for some, fluff, lots of kissing, suggestive but not nsfw, 300-600 words depending on which blurb :p, the writing is better in some parts than others forgive me i was fighting for my life trying to get everything right >.<

a/n: if you enjoy pls like or reblog!!! okay sorry back to ur regularly scheduled content, but pls consider reblogging!!!!! have a lovely day !!!!

CONFIDENT AND COCKY. he’s the one who taunts you into it, placing the confectionary sweet between his teeth and staring at you mockingly, daring you to take the other end.

“c’mon, sweets. what’s the worst that could happen?” he jeers, sitting back in his seat. you scoff at his egotistical show. you can’t stand him, really, you can’t.

you curse that he knows this trait of yours: that you could never say no to a good challenge. you know that he’s got you cornered, unable to contain his smirk when you roll your eyes and latch on to the opposite end of the pocky. at least he was considerate enough to take the breadstick end for himself.

both of you ignore the way you step in between his legs, placing your hands on his broad shoulders for stability before the game begins, but not without a wink sent your way first.

you hate his guts. he knows it, but he wants you so desperately it hurts. 

he tries to contain his eagerness yet he can't stop his hands from snaking up to loosely hold your hips, fearing that this was just another daydream of his imagination. you, on the other hand, remain unrushed, taking your time and not falling for his bait.

you love watching him suffer, don’t you? pushing then pulling back when he gets too close, leaving him in a lovesick haze. 

he loves that you know exactly what to do every time to send him spiralling. 

after what feels like an eternity yet no time at all, his heart stutters at the gentle hover of your lips over his before going into overdrive when you press against him, leaving no biscuit or space untouched. with little control, he gives himself fully into the kiss, conveying every pent up feeling of desire that you leave brewing within him. he has longed for this moment for ages. 

and somehow, you feel it. despite his playboy appearance, you can tell with this one kiss that he’s fully devoted himself to you. as ridiculous as the notion may sound, it's evident through the bruising embrace of his, the way he’s trying to commit your lips to memory, and the way that he's tilting his head to access more of you.

it’s enough to make your heart flutter. 

but. you knew you couldn’t give in to his wants. not yet.

abruptly parting from him, he quietly whines at the loss of contact, frowning when you push his hands away with that pretty smirk of yours. so unabashed in rejecting him, aren’t you?

“you’ve gotta work harder next time, pretty boy,” you whisper against his lips before lowering your head to press a quick kiss against his neck. “i’m not that easy to impress, especially not with a stick of pocky.”

he watches longingly as you walk away, a new fire of determination burning in his veins. 

oliver, KARASU, KAISER, SHIDOU, kunigami (after… yk) 

DOUBTFUL BUT REALLY WANTS THIS. the party is in full swing, the bass of the music is buzzing through the speakers, groups of people are getting drunk, and you? well, you're playing a game for prepubescent teenagers.

“truth or dare?” one of the party goers asks the soccer player whom you’ve harbored feelings for for a while. your stomach flips in anticipation at which option he’ll choose. 

his face twists into a split second of contemplation before the answer slips out of his mouth. “dare,” he answers confidently, returning the asker’s smug expression with one of his own.

“i dare you to play the pocky game with the person who you think is the most attractive in this room.”

everyone lets out a collective ‘ooo’ at the dare and you try to ignore the way your heart drops to your stomach, your nerves crawling all over you. the soccer player laughs before accepting it, catching the strawberry pocky box that is thrown in his direction.

who just casually has pocky as a party snack? 

you don’t get to spend long dwelling on your query because your eyes suddenly lock with his and he stands up, never breaking eye contact as he walks over to where you sit.

the group erupts into cheers of encouragement when he bends down to be eye-level with you, holding the box of pocky in his hands with a small, shy smile. he was so cute- hold on. he thought you were the most attractive person in the room? oh my goodness, where you about the kiss the man you’ve been pining after for months?

“wanna play?” he asks, sounding a little uncertain.

the only response you can muster is a stupid nod, blissful expectancy settling heavy in the air as he rips open the packet and fishes out a stick. 

“let me know if you’re uncomfortable with this.” his voice is low, murmuring something that he only wanted you to hear.

“it’s fine,” you reassure before latching your mouth to the opposite end, trying not to show the flurry of emotions whirlpooling within you in this very moment. 

was this real? are you dreaming? 

when your noses lightly bump into each other, you wake up to reality because this was real. you weren’t dreaming and his face was now mere millimetres away from yours. his eyes glance up from your lips to meet your eyes and you feel a spark occur, one that wasn’t unwelcome.

there’s just one little bit left, you can practically feel his lips against yours, the gap tormenting the two of you as one of you waits for the other to make the first move. he shakily exhales. you're going to go insane from anticipation.

fuck it. you’ve come this far.

he jolts a little in surprise at your boldness before melting into you, smiling into the kiss as all tension seeps out of his shoulders. distantly, you hear cheers and whoops from everyone, too caught up in the feeling of finally having him against you, blissfully relishing at the way your arms wind around his neck, embracing him like you've been meaning to for a while.

he smiles against you when noticing how eager you are, relieved and delighted at the same time.

"you're perfect," he whispers when he reluctantly breaks away, eyes droopy yet filled with desire.

you’re caught off guard when he tells the person next to you to move aside before sitting down, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as everyone else watches. 

thank goodness for truth or dare.

isagi, yukimiya, REO, SAE (ik he’s like a ‘cool’ guy or whatever but i think he’s a total dork so let me have my moment),

DOES IT BECAUSE HE LOVES YOU. he could not care less about some stupid game and he sure doesn’t need a fucking game to kiss the love of his life. he could do that whenever he pleases; a luxury that he will never take for granted.

but when you looked so happy and excited to try it out, how could he say no? 

“this is ridiculous,” he mutters, making his opinion known for the umpteenth time before connecting his lips to the end of the pocky stick. after a small countdown, the game begins and he starts without hesitation, biting down on the breadstick with an unmatched pace, quickly crossing into your territory.

before he could reach you though, you pull away, unsatisfied with his impatience. he groans at the sudden lack of contact, especially when he was so close to getting what he wanted.

“could you at least try a little harder?” you ask, unimpressed as he finishes the snack.

“i’m trying very hard, isn’t the point of this game to kiss one another?” he counters.

“well, yeah-”

“-if anything, you’re losing right now, love, so why don’t you try a little harder?” he asks in a low tone, nearing his face towards yours as his voice turns a little more sultry at the end. 

you push his face away, grinning to hide the effect he still has on you. “oh shut up, creep. what if i proposed a challenge?” 

“i’m listening.”

“let’s play it so that we try not to kiss, how about that, pretty boy? loser does whatever the winner wants.”

he straightens up a little at the nickname usage and the prospect of a prize. quirking a brow out of fascination, he relents. “fine. ass deal, but whatever you want.”

you keen at his willingness before grabbing another stick to set up the game once again. when you glance back up at him, a shiver runs down your spine at the darkened, lidded look he was giving you.

he prompts you to do the same when he takes a bite from the snack. 

this time, he’s slow and methodical with his actions, taking small bites to meet you in the middle where you enter a stalemate. here you can feel his breath against your lips, fanning against you ever so gently. 

this is going to be a lot harder than you anticipated because he’s really good at resisting temptation and urging you at the same time. it’s almost unfair how he keeps nearing your lips, threatening to close the gap before leaning away, leaving you to chase after him, all whilst holding a delicate piece of breadstick between his teeth. you can’t exactly make out if he’s smirking or not, but the mirth is evident in his eyes. 

he’s luring you in and it’s working.

next thing you know, you’re surging up to meet his lips in a clash of teeth, passion, and desire, all in one. it’s messy, but he wouldn’t want it any other way, especially when he’s the one who got what he wanted.

oh well, this wasn’t too bad for you either.

“see,” he says, pulling away, breathless and panting, his swollen lips forming into a smile. “this is way better than some stupid game.”

“shut up and make out with me.”

he keeps it to himself how you bought his least favourite flavour because it tastes better with you.

RIN, niko, chigiri (hear me out on this one: i’m right)

HOW DID YOU GET HERE? you were enjoying your packet of pocky, really, you weren’t expecting anything exhilarating. however, that changed when he snuck up beside you, peering over your shoulder to see what you were eating.

you don’t miss the way his eyes light up upon seeing the branded snack in your hands and immediately asks if he can have one. when you glance inside the packet to see how many you have remaining, you tell him that there’s only one left which you tauntingly put in your mouth to gloat in his face.

what you were not expecting at all was for him to take a bite of the opposite end and you're immediately stunned into silence.

if that wasn’t enough, there was no shame when he began nibbling on it, closing the gap between your faces as he concentrates intensely on eating the confectionary sweet. 

you’re quite literally frozen, not having it in you to merely blink, too scared to move or retract away from him lest your poor heart give out from how it thunders in your chest, reverberating with the might of a thousand suns. 

if that wasn’t bad enough, the way he gently grabs your face with both hands to keep you cemented where you are only worsens your current predicament. warm palms holding either side as he stares determinedly at your lips, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

was he always this pretty?

then, when you don’t think he can get any closer, he snaps the stick, pulling back with a satisfied grin, hands lingering where they’ve sought purchase before returning to his side.

“thanks for sharing, y/n. best pocky i’ve ever had in my life,” he says before turning around, walking away to leave you on the verge of a meltdown. 

NAGI, bachira (but with more excitement), otoya,