#i forgot how miserable it is to crush on someone

[letoscrawls]

i've been watching romcoms for two days straight and it's starting to have a lethal effect on my psyche

Like i'm so done i wanna go back to my studies and my silly little shows with aliens and giant worms

[akirathedramaqueen]

Only one person has the power to make Stolas cry

And I'll keep the intrigue just a little bit longer so you can try to guess for yourself and experience the kind of satisfaction I had once I pieced it all together. And, oh boy, did it click!

Okay, so today, after a rather passionate conversation with @tealvenetianmask about how fandom seems to perceive Stolas as overly emotional and soft demon, we started rummaging through all the scenes where Stolas actually cried. We were blown off by some revelations.

First note: it's actually not much. Our owl appears to be very sturdy and often bites back when attacked, rather than shutting down as one might expect.

Second note... Better let me show you. Let's walk through all the 'Stolas cries' scenes and see what is happening there, and answer the question, "What, or rather who, sets him off the rails?"

This is your last chance to place your bets and educated guesses. Because below are big clues, and, eventually, answer.

Circus

We follow up on Stolas shortly after the disastrous date at Ozzie's - arguably, a couple of hours later. He looks absolutely miserable. He has boozed himself to unconsciousness. His eyeliner is ruined from earlier tears. He groans, either from headache or emotional turmoil, grabs three Happy pills, and shoves them down his throat.

Whatever happened at this club ruined our bird, to the point he's looking for anything to avoid being alone with his thoughts.

Western Energy

One shed tear. That's all Stolas allows himself. That's what I am talking about when I claim he is actually very tough. He is being tortured, mutilated, and by this point, he has a pretty good understanding that his demise is likely inevitable.

And you know what he does in response? He talks back. He cuts through Striker's bullshit about royals taking everything from him and points out that his killer took a contract from a royal. He literally humiliates Striker with sex jokes and mocks his oversized dick on the statue ego. Figuratively, he spits death in its face.

The Full Moon

Stolas is destroyed.

This meeting was nerve-wracking even before it happened - all the preparation, insecurities, misunderstandings of the past, and lingering, terrifying questions (He loves me? He loves me not?).

It takes weeks to set everything in motion. He planned it meticulously. He scripted every word, every movement of his body, every subtle tone in his voice.

But he forgot that there was another party in this play. The party who was not given the script and is burdened with his own trauma. One shitty assumption, one poorly-thought-out action, and here it is - mockery, avoidance, a fight... and tears. His first meltdown he wasn't able to conceal.

His worst nighmares came true, or so he convinced himself. He loves me not.

Apology Tour

Our last stop on our 'we-love-being-tortured-by-crying-Stolas' tour is here.

The wound is still fresh, bleeding even, and here he comes, rubbing salt into it. Someone Stolas still desperately wants. Someone who was infinitely brash, rude, and aggressive just this morning. Someone who doubled down on statements that made Stolas believe this particular someone hates him.

That someone tries to talk. To explain. To apologize. Wonders how Stolas could actually care about him. Says the prince is better off without him.

Fuck... The prince came here to forget, to wipe that someone (okay, it's getting increasingly hard to pretend it's not obvious yet) from his memory, at least for the night, and he still won't let Stolas go.

He breaks into tears, crushed, reassured he can't have anyone who would hold him, who would say he is the only one, but recuperates shortly after - he was taught better than this.

Okay, are we ready for the shocker of the year?

It's Blitzø.

It was his date with Blitzø at Ozzie's, where he was ignored, humiliated, and was told that their relatioship was only about sex, and that he was the one who made it clear.

It was Blitzø turning down (or so he thought) his distress call, leading him to believe he was left alone to die.

It was Blitzø mocking his confession and assuming it was just a fucking roleplay.

Finally, it was Blitzø haunting him since that very morning and, albeit with better intentions, still hurting him beyond his abilities to recover.

The only person who tore his soul apart enough to break his inpenetrable mask - built up by decades of gritted teeth, restraint, and bravery - was the one he probably cares about the most.

It was not Octavia, whom he holds close to his heart but couldn’t allow to see him depressed. He had to be strong for her; he needed to raise and support her.

It was not Stella, whom he endured for years, yet did not satisfy her wish to see him whimper. He talked back, argued, ignored, and seethed. But he never gave in.

It was him. An imp who stole his grimoire and gave him the best time of his life, however sad that may sound.

Now, thanks for joining this drama in four acts. You may pull out your handkerchiefs and ugly cry right here, in your places. Don't hold it in.

Because I don't.

[krmy2386]

Swan

Lord Alfred Debling x Reader (childhood crush on Benedict) about 2.5k words

1. PLEASE DO NOT STEAL!!! I WORKED VERY HARD ON THIS!!!!

2. NOT PROOF READ!!!

3. Yes I love Benedict but I needed a plot to don’t hate me😅

————————————————————————

Lady Y/N L/N was always called the Ugly Duckling. Not that she was ever actually ugly. More awkward in her younger years, especially compared to the beautiful Bridgetons, her closest friends.

She remembers the first time she was called that name. It was Benedict Bridgerton, her best friends’ brother, and the boy she had harbored feelings for as a child.

One day Violet Bridgerton was reading a book of stories to Anthony, Benedict, Colin, Y/N and Daphne. When they finished the infamous “Ugly Duckling,” young Benedict loudly declared the Y/N must be a swan, because she was an ugly duckling. This immediately caused Y/N to sob hysterically and Violet scolded Benedict while Lady L/N tried to console her daughter. Eventually the two children made up and it was forgotten. By Benedict, never by Y/N. She never forgot how those words made her feel.

Over the years, Y/N grew into both her features and her attitude. This was her third year on the marriage mart and it was no secret to the ton that Y/N would not be doing anything she did not want to do. She had a sharp wit and a tendency to find mischief. Many people, mainly the men, joked about who could “tame” her.

Maybe that’s why she was so drawn to Benedict. He seemed to radiate joy and light. Y/N wanted that. She wanted someone who would send shocks through her.

But that would never happen. Because now, as a grown woman, she hated Benedict Bridgerton.

————————————

Lord Debling was praying for the ball to end when he realized he had only been there about 5 minutes. He felt like a duck being hunted by a hound.

The mothers of the ton had set their sights on him. Their daughters were less intense but just as obvious.

He began lightly pacing, hoping for a hole to swallow him when he heard a shrill voice shout his name.

Oh God, he thought. Mrs Cowper, with her daughter Cressida in tow.

Lord Debling sighed, but did the gentlemanly thing and bowed.

“Lady Cowper, how are you this evening?” He asked politely.

Cressida flutter her eyes so fast a hummingbird would be jealous, “So much better now that I see you are here. Are you planning on dancing tonight?”

Fear ran through his body and he began to stutter, “Um, w-well I-I hadn’t..”

“Lord Debling!” It was his guardian angel, Lady Danbury. He felt relief fill his lungs and he turned to Mrs. Cowper and Cressida, “Excuse me.”

He rushed over to Lady Danbury and bowed before leaning to her ear, “Thank you!” He whispered.

Lady Danbury laughed lightly and patted his hand on top of hers, “Never fear, I promised your mother long ago to look out for you, and they looked ready to rip you to shreds.”

Lord Debling couldn’t help but nod. He tried to see the good in people but something about Cressida Cowper made him uneasy.

Something about the way she speaks down on everyone, her garish clothes, her unnatural hair shapes.

Alfred Debling never thought a love match would be in his future. The most he hoped for was a kindhearted friend to spend his days at home with. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have standards.

He didn’t want a fake person who would change the minute they were behind closed doors. He wanted someone real. Someone he could share life with, even if they were just friends.

“My mother would’ve loved this,” he mumbled softly. “Meeting people and dancing.”

Laney Danbury nodded in agreement. “Yes, your mother was a spirited and kind woman. And she would’ve put Lady Cowper in her place in a heartbeat.” She joked. Debling couldn’t help but laugh.

—————————

Y/N was miserable the entire carriage ride. Not only would she have to once again parade around like a peacock trying to catch a husband. It would more than likely fail. Her only solace was that she planned to escape to Penelope as soon as possible. But even the Featherington girl had been in social mourning since her whole plan with Colin blew up.

Stupid Bridgerton Boys, she thought to herself. They ruin everything.

“Y/N” she heard her mother’s gentle voice, “I know you hate this dear, but please try to have some fun!” Her mother was so genuine in her request, Y/N couldn’t help but smile. They didn’t need her to marry for money or title. She had that privilege.

Lady L/N knew something has shifted in her daughter. She never pushed Y/N to share, but she was worried. The spark had left Y/N’s eyes.

Y/ N grabbed her mother’s hand.

“I will try.” She said truthfully. Maybe she could force herself to enjoy one evening for her mother’s sake. She never meant for her mother to worry about her so much. As a child, her mother worried due to her talents in running off and climbing trees. Now she had all new worries, that Y/N might be sad, or lonely for a long time. No mother wants that.

—————————

Lord Debling was glancing around the room. Hoping for something, anything, to make the time go by faster.

When he glanced at the stairs he swears time stopped.

She was beautiful. She wore a cream colored gown with gold and silver thread embroidery. She glided down the stairs like she was floating. She didn’t have a large fake smile plastered on her face. She looked content but not overly excited.

“Beautiful is she not?” Lord Debling jumped at Lady Danbury’s voice.

“Yes,” he said. Then turning full attention back to the beauty on the stairs, “she certainly is… gorgeous.” He whispered.

Lady Danbury looked at poor Deblings face and almost chuckled. If he thought she was impressive to look at, wait until she spoke to him.

“That is Y/N L/N, daughter of some close friends of mine. She is a wonderful girl. Spirited.” Lady Danbury says with a knowing smile. “And, she is not yet married.”

Debling was now giving Lady Danbury his full attention. “She isn’t? Are you sure?” Lady Danbury normally would be offended at someone questioning her knowledge of the ton. But she took pity on him, this once.

“I’m sure. This is her third year out in society. She doesn’t need money or a title so she has the luxury of being picky. Although, most of the men in the ton find her to be too much to handle.”

Lady Danbury said gently. She loved and adored Y/N and knew she could be a bit much for some people.

This made Alfred Debling swoon. A woman who was unapologetically herself.

“Will you introduce me to her?” Lord Debling asked Lady Danbury.

This caught her slightly by surprise. He had never asked for her help meeting the women of the ton. He normally had no problem introducing himself to people. But she could tell by his eyes, he was begging.

“Alright.” She said taking his arm. “Follow my lead.”

———————————

After they descended the stairs, Lady L/N and Y/N thanked their host before heading into the main ballroom.

Y/N hadn’t seen the Bridgertons yet. Maybe. She would be safe after all.

“Duckie!” Hearing that name made Y/N cringe. There were only two people alive who still called her that name.

She turned cautiously and was greeted by both Colin and Eloise.

“She prefers Y/N, Colin. We aren’t children anymore.” Eloise scolded. She saw the hurt that would flash in Y/N’s eyes at the old nickname.

Colin, oblivious as ever laughed, “She’ll always be Duckie. Even her father called her that.”

At the mention of the late Lord Y/N everyone froze. Even Colin realized what he had done.

“I’m so sorry Y/N I didn’t mean to-“

Y/ N interrupted, “I’m going to get some air.”

And she all but ran away.

Eloise slapped her brother’s arm, “Great job Colin! We spoke to her for 10 seconds and now we’ll never speak to her again!”

It had been a year since Y/N had truly spent time with the Bridgerton family. Since her father’s death. Eloise had planned to ease their way back into her life. That clearly didn’t work. She should’ve known better to recruit Colin instead of Francesca.

————————

Alfred felt lightheaded as the approached Y/N. She was alone in the hallway. She excused herself from the ballroom and Lady Danbury insisted this was the perfect opportunity.

Y/N was staring out the hall window. Her mind was racing and she was praying for a distraction.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you! How have you been darling?” Lady Danbury asked.

Y/N smiled. It was impossible to be in a bad mood around Lady Danbury.

“I’m doing well. How are you? I’ve heard about the new additions to your garden. Mama and I have been dying to see it.”

Alfred felt his heart jump at her smile. It was real. She was genuinely happy to see Lady Danbury. Maybe one day she would smile at him that way.

“Yes, the garden is in full bloom and ready for visitors. But I have someone here who wanted to meet you.” Lady Danbury gently pulled on Lord Debling’s arm, silently urging him to introduce himself.

“H-Hello Lady Y/N. I’m Lord Alfred Debling.” He choked out. Mentally cursing himself for stuttering.

Y/N was taken aback. A man wanted to meet her? A handsome man?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Debling. I don’t believe I’ve seen you before.” Y/N said, mesmerized by his big, puppy dog eyes.

“Well I’ve been encouraged by my family to, um- get to know more people” He wasn’t sure how to explain his situation without blatantly saying he wanted a wife.

Y/N giggled. She knew exactly why he was here.

“I understand perfectly, Lord Debling. But I must warn you not everyone is worth getting to know.” Y/N said bluntly.

Alfred couldn’t help but smile.

“Is that so?” He started. “Perhaps you could escort me around the room and enlighten me to who is who?” He asked, mustering up all of the bravery he could.

Lady Danbury was shocked. Not only did Lord Debling offer Y/N his arm, she took it. Unheard of for both of them.

—————————

As the night carried on, Lady Danbury and Lady L/N watched happily as Lord Debling and Y/N walked circles around the room together.

Y/N talked on and on about everyone at the ball. Telling stories and sharing her personal experiences.

“And that is Lord and Lady Timsley. They are the oldest couple here.” She stated.

“Really?” Lord Debling asked. “How long have they been together?”

“52 years. They have a cottage close to ours in the country. Lord Timsley used to let me climb his Genovian Pear Tree. Until one day the branch I was on broke and I fell.” Y/N stated.

Alfred was shocked, “Good Lord! Were you alright?!”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes I was fine. My mother was furious and my father found the entire thing hilarious.”

Alfred couldn’t help but see the bittersweet look when she mentioned her father. It’s how he felt when anyone mentioned his mother.

“Is there anyone else here I should be wary of?” He asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Um-“ Y/N surveyed the room then sighed, “the only people left are the Bridgertons”

Lord Debling looked at her and immediately knew there was an issue, “Are they people to be wary of?” He asked.

“No. N-no. I just… “ Y/N started before she was interrupted by the one person she dressed to think of.

“Duckie! Where the devil have you been? It’s been ages!” Nearly shouted inebriated Benedict Bridgerton.

Lord Debling saw Y/N immediately go tense and he became on high alert.

Y/N could tell Benedict was drunk. He didn’t hold his liquor well. She briefly looked over to where the other Bridgestone stood and they all looked mortified.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend, Duckie?” Benedict smirked. “Names Bridgerton.” Benedict forcefully pushed his hand forward and eyed Debling. Almost challenging him.

Alfred took a few seconds and took in his surroundings. Y/N was visibly uncomfortable. Maybe if he found the confidence to talk to her. He could find it to defend her.

So he took a breath and grabbed the Bridgerton boy’s hand. Hard.

“Yes, Viscount Bridgerton. Lovely to meet you.”

Benedict’s faces dropped. “Um- no. That would be my older brother Anthony.

“Oh,” Lord Debling started, “terribly sorry, you are the one who just got back from travels. Tell me, how was Greece? I hear it’s beautiful.”

Benedict’s eyes hardened in the man. “That would be my younger brother.” He gritted his teeth.

Y/N was speechless. No one had ever truly challenged Benedict before. Even Anthony would let him win just to go away.

Before either man could speak again. Violet and Anthony stepped in.

“Benedict, dear it’s time to go home.” Violet tried to gently coax him.

“But I’m being introduced to Lord Dumpling.” He replied.

“It’s Debling, and you’ve already met.” Anthony stated, clearly annoyed.

Benedict’s face lit up with recognition, “Yes! The man who watches the birds! Tell me, what do you eat instead of meat?” Benedict asked cheekily.

“That’s enough brother.” Anthony said sharply.

“What I’m just asking.” Benedict said in his best fake innocent voice.

“It is odd is it not?” He asked, looking directly at Y/N.

“I think it’s lovely.” All Bridgertons and Lord Debling looked at her.

“Really?” Alfred asked.

“Yes. It takes a lot of will power and compassion to make a bold choice like that.” She said looking directly at Lord Debling.

Benedict felt his heart lurch. She didn’t even spare him a glance.

He turned to Violet, “I’d like to go now mother.” Said stomping off to the nearest exit. Anthony rolled his eyes and followed after him.

Violet looked at Y/N, “I’m so sorry for my son’s behavior.” She breathed heavily and added, “All of it.”

Y/N nodded in acknowledgement, “Have a good evening Lady Bridgerton.”

Violet left and Y/N’s mother walked over.

“Lord Debling, it is so nice of you to keep my daughter company.” She said gently. Not wanting to draw any more attention to the situation.

Lord Debling chuckled, “it was quite the opposite Lady L/N. She has been a wonderful guide for the evening.”

Y/N felt herself blush.

“I was hoping I could call on you tomorrow.” Alfred said to Y/N, “if that is okay with you” he directed to her mother.

Lady L/N looked to her daughter to answer.

Y/N looked at Lord Debling. And once again, she became entranced by his caring and gentle gaze.

“I would like that very much.” She smiled, and he smiled back.

[forthevillains]

I wish I was your girl [pt.2]

Albert Wesker X fem!reader [18+]

(read the previous part here)

It all happened so fast. You barely knew what’s gotten into you that you even agreed to do something like this… To throw your dignity away like that to let someone like him devour you, completely.

You’ve been stripped off not only your clothes, but also your sanity. You lay bare before the captain’s eyes, on his desk, legs hanging over the edge, trembling and needy. He was so quick to rip the clothes off of you, throwing everything from the desk aside only to put you there… You didn’t even get the chance to protest.

He was quick to pull his pants down only as much as to let his hardened cock free, immediately thrusting into you, drawing a cry out of you. He caught you off guard, forcing his length into you. You would’ve lied if you said that it didn’t hurt so bad. He was big, you felt that as he stretched you like no other partner you’ve had before. It might’ve been painful, but you were able to find pleasure in it, loving the treatment you weren’t used to, loving how rough he was with you as you’ve always wished for someone like this. Little did you believe it could be your lovely captain.

"So damn tight…” Wesker murmured, throwing his head back, his hips slamming against your own, the tip of his cock reaching places that you didn’t even know existed. You felt dizzy, your vision foggy as you tried to calm your trembling body down by holding onto the edges of his desk. It was useless, all your attempts to hold onto the last piece of sanity had failed miserably. You were too deep in this, there was no coming back. A moan escaped you. You didn’t even want to go back to how things were. You wanted to feel him, exactly like this.

Your breasts bounced with each of his cruel thrusts, catching his eye almost immediately. He couldn’t resist it, your whole body was so beautiful that he could stare at you as if you were a goddess sent from heavens. He’s never felt such a desire towards a woman even though there were countless of them. You were special, you, a secretary who had a crush on him for months, secretly craving him, you who he spent time with even when he wasn’t supposed to, you who were always near to do anything he needed, to help him at any given time.

He could barely take his eyes off of your chest, he just couldn’t resist it, how soft they looked, how much he wanted to touch you, to taste your skin. Wesker leaned forward, his mouth immediately latching onto one of your hardened nipples, forcing a gasp out of you as he circled it with his tongue right before sucking it in, making your back arch, pressing yourself closer to him in desperation as a loud whine escaped you. He was far too lost in tasting your soft skin, his tongue sliding all across your chest, licking, sucking, biting. The sounds you were making each time his mouth touched you while he kept thrusting into you made him want to do more.

One of Wesker’s hands moved upwards from your hip, holding onto you tightly so that you couldn’t squirm away even if you wanted to, while he continued to ram into you as his mouth abused your chest, leaving dark purple marks on your delicate skin as if it was his new found territory. He did it to make you remember, to make sure that if you had a lover, they’d know there was someone else. That in reality you were a slut for your captain.

You completely forgot about why you were in this position, about that captain Wesker is actually a traitor. Your body submitted to him as if he owned you and for this night, he did indeed. Another moan was being drawn from you due to the powerful movement of his hips and you finally felt a knot form in your stomach, your pussy clenching around him, making him groan. Finally pulling away from your chest, he straightened, now looking down at you, noticing your tightly closed eyes, mouth open, hair messy and cheeks flushed. So beautiful…

Wesker hasn’t even dreamt of taking you like this, or seeing you so messed up, but god did he love it. His movements never really stopped, the speed of his thrusts only increased as he noticed the tears forming in the corners of your eyes, dripping towards your cheeks as he fucked you so hard.

"That’s it… That’s it, dearheart, take all I’m giving you.” His voice was breathy as he was reaching his breaking point as well. One of his hands suddenly appeared in between your legs. You weren’t expecting it as you were too lost in all the pleasure, though when he touched your clit, you felt like you were going to explode. An overwhelming sensation washed over you as he sent you over the edge, tears rolling down your cheeks and the only thing you were able to get out apart from cries and whimpers were incoherent words. You were trying to beg him to stop, even he was able to understand that, although he didn’t care.

Wesker wouldn’t leave you alone until he had his release as well, until he scarred you for life, until he made sure to leave you wondering of him at any given time, until he was fully aware that both your body and mind were his.

The overstimulation of your cunt made you see stars, you trembled, clenching your fists, the nails digging into your skin to the point where you drew blood. And yet - you wanted him to continue. What a lost case you were, thirsting over your superior, even going as far as to agree to get fucked by him. In the office. For a moment it made you think if it was worth it.

Wesker’s movements became sloppy, his cock twitching inside of you right before you could feel him release, his warm seed spilling into you, filling you to the brim. And only then did you finally open your tired eyes to look at the man who wrecked you so much. His hair was out of place, few strands in his face, unlike usual, the top buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing his muscular chest where a few droplets of sweat glistened. Of course it was worth it. The sight of your beloved captain like that was more than you’d ever wished for.

At the end of the day though, it was you who fell into his trap, giving him exactly what he wanted and more. What a naive little thing you are, only giving him a good material to blackmail you with if necessary… He made sure you’d keep quiet. And as long as you would - Wesker wouldn’t dare threaten you. You’re forced to be his personal toy now and he’s willing to make it both heaven and hell;)

[toasterhasabucket]

Topic: MALEVOLENT PODCAST (PART 20)

TW : this whole thing is about !death and suicide! and very very much just me complaining and crying about the POEM TO HIS PARENTS

Starting off strong, Arthur's parents killed themselves when he was young. He wrote a poem about it, about his parents, about his grief and wanting it back, wanting comfort and boy, oh boy! I am SOBBING. I couldn't find a written copy of his poem so I just kept replaying it and writing it down in my notes app

This is the poem ( if I misspelled anything, don't tell me, just ignore it please)

"I don't recall how we met

as I was far too young

I knew you not as you are now

because to me you were the sun

and always present warmth and glow

a light that's always there

to wipe the teas from out my eyes

to brush my matted hair

and I would lie if not to say our relationship was pure.

I am young

a cause of grief of this I am quite sure

despite all this id be remiss to say there was no love

a calmness and a careful word

a nudge not a shove

there were nights I recall

I needed you the most

I'd crawl from bed and walk to you

and you would hold me close

between the love of both of you

to ail my sleeping strife

I never felt so safe

yet so cold

in all my life.

I too recall a time I was trying to impress

a goofy boy named Arthur dressed in his mother's best

was only dad who laughed with me

as mother you withdrew but

when he joined in dressing up

you cried in laughter too

and there was the time we all did find ourselves stuck in the rain

mother had her gown near soaked

and dad was much the same

and though we were miserable

mother found us a spot of dry

which we all ate a pretend meal

jelly and sea pie.

and now you're gone

and I can't explain the loss that lingers here

the size of a young boys parents

he wishes could be near

and there are nights

where he needs you

and he still crawls out of bed

and walks toward your bedroom door

before recalling you're dead.

and I want someone to tell that boy

to swallow all the hate

that nothing he could have said

would have changed his parents fate

and I want that someone to be you

as I write this

but alas

this pain will linger with me still

I pray this too shall pass."

Oh my God. That's emotional and so important to him I wonder if the people in the YouTube comments had anything to say about it?

NO THEY DIDN'T

One person said "glad we got to learn more about johns backstory" WHAT ABOUT HIS SOUL CRUSHING POEM

Sorry forgot some of your parents didn't kill themselves, my mistake, so so so sorry that you're crooked and evil and didn't sob your eyes out when he recited his poem. (I am completely normal and chill)

Another person said something like "Arthur, the boy who lived" and yk this could mean many things, maybe because he's survived many life threatening situations and actually escaped death, maybe it's because of the ending of the episode. OR it's because his parents are dead and if that's why

I am going to roll myself into a hole and throw UP.

There's nothing terribly wrong with the joke I'm just dramatic and a crybaby

I need to stop complaining so NOW I'm going to take in this poem like it should have been.

Let's point out my "highlights"

"because to me you were the sun" when you're young and have good parents you like them most the time, he was young when they died, he looked up to them still and saw them in such a bright and amazing way

"and now you're gone and I can't explain the loss that lingers here the size of a young boys parents he wishes could be near and there are nights where he needs you and he still crawls out of bed and walks toward your bedroom door before recalling you're dead"

This whole part has me in FUCKING SHAMBLES, IM SHAKING AND SOBBING, IM GOING TO BE THINKING ABOUT THIS ON MY DEATH BED.

"and I want someone to tell that boy to swallow all the hate. that nothing he could have said would have changed his parents fate"

God Arthur you just like to kick me right in the stomach don't you, this almost brought me to my knees I'm not even going, I almost went onto the floor. Put this into perspective, you're a kid who is around your parents ALL the time then one day they kill themselves, even as a kid survivors guilt is a thing, most the time survivors guilt is seen in like horror movies and shit but dude, when I found out my mom committed I thought smth like I wish I could have done something, it should have been me, even though I was ten I felt accountable for what happened because it feels like all the love you gave was never enough because in the end they left by choice. That will LINGER that will STAIN and it is forever, not matter how faint it seems at times it'll never really go away. So I know like first hand, a child who's parents killed themselves or even just have dead parents, all have thought at one time "why not me."

"nothing he could have said would have changed his parents fate"

I'll never get over this line, EVER.

Not only do I relate I FEEL this, this whole poem was like a slap in the face, hit after hit, I felt seen but in a way I didn't want to be. I felt like I was exposed and I don't think I've ever read anything that's made me feel so read to.

See this is the part where I explain that I am not complaining about people not caring about his poem and this very important part to him, it's more of me really complaining that I care and relate to much so it's overwhelming

I am not here to be like "you don't care about this like I do? Die" and if I sound like that I was joking or having a moment because I'm going off the rails with a crazy train (I love that song)

And obviously of course it's sad and everything but not everyone can relate and think about it from the way I do and I get that

Not everyone has experienced something like this and I'm glad!

But I guess since I related I was just so shocked and a little confused on why I didn't see anyone talk about it

Sure the poem isn't metaphorically fancy and is more blunt then most but it's gets the point across and I like that. I like that a lot

Anyways I'm going to draw Arthur angst, love you guys bye!

[all-pacas]

as someone who headcanons cameron as a (comphet) lesbian, how do you think the show would’ve played out?

(post her realization of “oh shit i never actually liked men” gonna ballpark that around when her and chase called off the fwb, i forgot when exactly that occured😭)

also love your various analyses about House M.D and its characters! they’re v fun to read:)

To be honest — while you can and absolutely should headcanon whatever you want!! — it's hard for me to say, because it would change a lot. Like it or not, a lot of Cameron's development on the show is tied to her romantic involvement with Chase and weird thing for House (and by all means we should talk about/criticize the fact that Cameron's main role is love interest), so if you undo S3 and beyond…

She probably still resigns from House's team: Human Error's whole thing was about embracing change and moving forward with life: Foreman and Chase are gone, and Cameron is pretty keen on moving on herself. Even if she ended up staying a little longer, I don't think she'd really enjoy being one-on-one with House (at least not as much as she thinks she would, lol, and particularly not in a universe where she isn't willing to cut him crush-related slack): they're both incredibly stubborn and at all times convinced they're right, and without a buffer or House ever giving an inch, I think Cameron would quickly get kind of miserable. And then what? In this reality, she doesn't have Chase to keep her around Princeton: Cameron also has a history of making big moves to go with big life events, and quitting her job and coming out is certainly one. Frankly, I think she might just… take the excuse to reinvent herself totally. Just move and dye her hair a new color without the pseudo-romantic relationship with House, or the romantic one with Chase, to keep her where she is: it's canon, for example, that she moved cross country when her husband died, and again after her divorce: Cameron really does seem to deal with major life events by upending her own life, and having an "oh shit, I'm gay" realization would certainly count as that.

Sorry it's not a more interesting answer! It's just one of those things that's so different (and not one I've really thought about much), it's hard to spitball for!

[wheels-of-despair]

Worth It | Ralph Penbury x You | Masterlist

{<-Previous} [Go Easy On Those Pastries] {Next->}

Summary: Ralph comes home, but your reunion does not go as planned. Words: 1.8k

The day Ralph had been waiting for had finally come: Monday, the day that he and Victoria would board a train and travel home. Home, where someone who loved him would be waiting for him to arrive.

He craved your kisses, he craved your embrace, he craved being alone with you in your secret spot in the park so he could tell you all about his time away. Not that he'd done anything but mope and write to you during the last week, but he planned on actually listening to Victoria on the ride home and relaying some of her stories, hoping to sound a little less like a lovestruck puppy.

You'd assured Ralph that you would meet him at the station, and he was delirious with joy. He'd always been jealous of couples at train stations, clinging to one another with absolute glee and need after spending time apart. This would be the first time Ralph got to be a part of one of those reunions, rather than being the lonely bloke staring jealously at someone else's. He couldn't wait.

After he'd pried Victoria away from her new boy toy and successfully moved her (and all her luggage) onto the train, Ralph watched the scenery fly by as his sister rambled. It was nothing interesting; mostly talk about the man whose tongue she'd been trying to swallow the whole time. Eventually, she tired herself out and fell asleep, and Ralph was left in blissful silence to think of your reunion.

What would he say to you first? Would he pick you up? Literally sweep you off your feet? Would you let him spin you around in a circle of love? Would you giggle as he kissed you for the first time in seven dreadful days? Would it be a deep kiss, or a million little kisses? Would he ever let you go again?

The time passed remarkably fast, for a journey that lasted several hours. Ralph stood when the train started to slow, lurching against the wall of the car when it finally stopped at his station. Victoria awoke from her nap, stretched, and looked at him sleepily.

"Eager, are we?"

"It's been a whole week, of course I am."

"What if she forgot?"

"She didn't," he says confidently, gathering his things.

"Sure," Victoria yawns. He leaves her there and makes his way to the exit.

He steps onto the platform and waits for you to come running. He looks this way and that, suddenly becoming very worried.

A voice from behind him says, "I told you so, Ralph. You shouldn't have gotten your hopes up." Victoria saunters off in the direction of the cabs, flagging down someone to load their bags.

Ralph is crushed. Maybe you really did forget. Maybe it only took a week apart for you to realize how peaceful your life was without him. Maybe Donald the Dull had finally made his move. Maybe someone better had come along. He touches his hand to his heart, hoping to soothe the pain, and feels the crunch of a letter stuck in an inside pocket for safekeeping. Your letter.

You wouldn't have written him a letter like that if you were going to leave him. Maybe you'd gotten the times mixed up? Perhaps you were sick? Or your mother prevented you from leaving? Yes, that's it. He'd think of an excuse to stop by and check on you on his way home.

You hated Donald Andrews.

You hated his dumb face, his greasy hair, his awful cologne, the way he looked down his pointy nose at you, the way he could not take the hint that you did not want him there. Your mother wanted him there. And seeing as how she was married to your father, Donald's presence in your home was extremely unnecessary.

He usually came on Saturdays, but he'd called last week and rescheduled, because his father was whisking him away to some boring event for boring men over the weekend. Of course it had to be Monday, the day you were supposed to meet Ralph at the station. You'd tried everything. Faking a headache, a stomachache, lady problems, oh dear, you were simply too miserable to receive guests. Your mother wasn't having it. You were infuriated.

You sat in the parlor with your mother and Donald and a clenched jaw as they talked about something you didn't care about. You stared at the rug and wondered how upset Ralph would be when you weren't there to greet him. Earlier in the day, you'd hoped that Donald would clear out in time for you to rush down to the station, but you had no such luck. They simply would not shut up.

After what felt like hours of glaring a hole in the floor - honestly, at this point, your mother and Donald the Dull should just admit that they're courting each other - you heard a voice that made your ears perk up. You listened closer, wondering if you'd imagined it, but no. Ralph Penbury was at your front door, speaking with Nancy.

Ralph knocked on your door softly, afraid your mother would be alerted. He sighed in relief when a pleasant blonde maid greeted him. He explained that you were meant to meet his sister at the train station when they returned, but they grew concerned when you were not there. He'd sent her home, weary from travel, and decided to check on you himself. The maid glanced worriedly toward the parlor door, when suddenly, the very girl he was looking for came bounding out of it. Instinctively, he stepped forward and opened his arms.

Without slowing down, you rushed right into him, knocking him back a step and wrapping your arms around him like you hadn't seen him in years.

"I missed you so much," you whispered tearfully into his neck. He'd never smiled so hard in his life. He closed his eyes and held you tight and lifted you off the floor, your bodies brought closer together by gravity. Seven whole days was far too long to go without this.

And then your mother hissed your full name in a way that made all of Ralph's hair stand up. He felt you tense, and he slowly released you back to the floor. You didn't turn to look at her.

"Young man, I did not invite you inside my home. You turn around and leave at once. And YOU," she seethed in an harsh whisper, "YOU get back in there and apologize to Donald RIGHT NOW."

Instead of moving, you closed your eyes and exhaled slowly. "OUT." The old woman snapped at Ralph again and grabbed your wrist, pulling you back toward the parlor. You opened your eyes, holding up your free hand to flash a one and a circle. Ralph nodded, knowing exactly where to go. Dropping your hand and turning your circle into a clenched fist, Ralph saw a fire begin to burn in your eyes as you turned and allowed the old bat to drag you away.

He apologized to the maid, knowing she'd surely get chastised for letting him in, even though she really didn't, and began walking toward the park. Although something inside of him told him that he should stay and protect you.

Seven minutes later, sitting nervously on your favorite bench in the park, Ralph hears panting and heavy footsteps. He stands up, and just like that, you're back in his arms again.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice full of concern. You're shaking. He should have stayed. He should have taken you with him. He's a coward, a useless coward, afraid of an old woman.

You pull back, and he sees that you're laughing. You're laughing and crying. He dries your cheeks with his handkerchief and asks again, "Are you alright?"

"For now," you laugh, still out of breath, moving to sit on the bench. He sits next to you, and waits for you to begin telling your story.

Your mother had dragged you to the door, turned around, and spoke in a low, threatening voice. "You will go in there, apologize to Donald, and beg his forgiveness. His mother says that he's planning to propose soon. You had better hope he hasn't changed his mind." You take in this information with your eyes narrowed. So Donald has the power to change his mind, does he?

"Is that understood?" You smile a sweet, sarcastic smile, knowing she wouldn't dare slap you in the face with Donald present. "In." She yanks the door open and waits for you to move.

You enter the room, and she follows. You perch on the edge of your seat as she returns to hers. Donald the Dull returns to his chair after you're both seated, looking unfazed by all this. Does nothing ruffle his feathers? Perhaps you'd give it a go.

"Dearest Donald, I am ever so sorry for running out on you. I do hope you'll forgive me," you say in your most convincing apology voice. You look to your mother. She's still visibly angry, but gives a sharp nod for you to continue. "You see, I fear I had too many of those delightful pastries, and they caused a bit of an intestinal disturbance." Donald looks confused, but your mother's eyes look like they're about to pop out of their sockets. Might as well go all in. "And Mother always said that a man should never hear his intended break wind before their wedding night. Alas, I fear I must leave you again, but DO have a pleasant date with Mother," you say as you rise from your chair and walk backwards toward the door, "and go easy on those pastries!"

You spin around and leave the room before your mother can gather her wits and murder you on the spot. You run out the front door and toward the park, cackling like a madwoman escaping from her own personal asylum, afraid to look back.

Ralph sits quietly, processing the story you've just told him. A laugh still lingers on your lips, your face flushed from your passionate re-telling of the event. And then, all of a sudden, he bursts into laughter. He pulls you close, and you wheeze together until your sides ache.

"I've never met anyone like you before," he laughs, wiping away a tear.

"I'm an endangered species; therefore, I'm going to wait right here in this park with you, until my father gets home to prevent me from becoming extinct."

"Do you really think she'll try to kill you?"

"It's a possibility. But if this is what finally scares Donald the Dull off… it was worth it."

[xioyume]

Hiya~Dear Author I'm just New in here and I got a very crazy idea for Young severus Snape when his Girlfriend is a k-pop Idol like she was very popular and Wealthy.. And her family really loves snape thanks!

Notes: Crazy ideas are the best ideas! Thank you for giving me the chance to write this, it sure is something different from what I’ve seen in the Severus Snape x reader tag and I love; I hope you like what I wrote too 💖💖

Edit notes: I’M SO SORRY! I WAS WRITING THIS BUT THEN SCHOOL GOT CRAZY AND THE HOLIDAYS CAME AND I COMPLETELY FORGOT! I APOLOGIZE TO YOU AND THE OTHER ANON I OWE 😭😭

Warnings: a little bit of enemies to lovers, the Marauders being little shits, Reader’s race and ethnicity are not established but she comes from Mahoutokoro

Young Severus Snape with a K-pop idol girlfriend

If we’re being honest here, Severus probably hated you when he first “met” you (aka when he saw you entering Charms class and he didn’t even said a word to you but ok)

You were a transfer student from Mahoutokoro School of Magic and already a celebrity in your second day at school. Many people at Hogwarts (especially muggleborns and halfbloods) listened to your music and found you and your voice as if it was heaven sent

Snape, on the other hand, didn’t find the appeal. He thought you were just another rich girl who wanted to show off her wealth and have everyone like her to keep her ego high

So he avoided you; boy already had some rich kids making him miserable, he didn’t need another one who was also a famous singer

This made you sad, since he caught your attention from the moment you saw him at the Great Hall and wanted to be his friend

And you may or may have not developed a tiny crush on that tall, mysterious, and pretty Slytherin boy you always sat behind of in almost every class

When you found out about his friendship with Lily Evans, someone less closed when it came to meeting people, you figured you could get close to Severus through her. So you reached to her and developed a friendship, formally meeting Severus when she introduced both of you

You started hanging out almost everyday and your crush on the Slytherin boy only grew stronger, especially when he became nicer to you

The three of you liked hanging out in the library or in the astronomy tower, your favorite place in school to relax and free yourself from class stress

But one day, a small group of Gryffindors came up to you; you knew them from your year, but never spoke to them. You guessed they were some fans, as you were accustomed to

They told you their names and that they were “big fans” of your music, and that they wanted to share one of their hobbies with you. You were taken aback a little, but found it very endearing and decided to go with them

That went as good as you can imagine, since you found them harassing your best friends, especially Snape who was getting hexed by Sirius

You stepped in and called them out, putting yourself between the Marauders and your friends to protect the latter, while Lily made sure Sev was okay. The commotion was enough for your head of house to appear; you told them what was happening and they managed to get the Gryffindor boys away from you

After that, Severus was more protective of you; seeing how you willingly stand up for him caused something inside his body to always feel a little fluttering sensation whenever you were close

Lily realized this and made it her mission to set you up

After an incident trying to grow some mistletoe near you and purposely leaving the two of you alone whenever she could, Lily squealed of happiness when Severus told her you finally got together after a night walk to the astronomy tower and a heartfelt confession under the stars he thought was a dream he didn’t want to wake up from

Now to your family

When you told Severus you wanted him to meet your parents, he panicked. It’s not that he didn’t want to, he just thought they wouldn’t see him as an good suitor for you and make you break up with him

After so many constant reassurance, you managed to convince him do it and, during Christmas, Severus and you went to your house to meet your family

On the contrary of what Snape had in mind, your parents were very welcoming and nice to him. Your mom happened to be very invested in the study of alchemy and had various conversations with through the holidays; your dad was very grateful for the help in the kitchen he provided and around the house, getting his approval very quickly

Your baby brother was practically mesmerized by Sev, constantly comparing him to his favorite character from his book and telling him he loves him in a way that made your heart want to burst

During the train ride back to Hogwarts, Severus hugged you, thanking you for giving him the chance to have a merry Christmas and that you are the best present he could ask for

Needless to say, you shared your first kiss on that train wagon; a memory that you would always treasure

If you wish to be tagged in future works let me know, and again I’m so sorry 😭

[projectaconitum]

Lovely Diabolik Schism [ BRUTE ]

{ Hell || Abyss || Chasm || Schism: BRUTE || Schism: MANSERVANT || Schism: VAMPIRE || Elysium }

"Viola, leave your room at once," came Reiji's voice through the door to her room. Rather, his room, which she had been using at his insistence since his father had orchestrated the "fiasco" (as Reiji liked to call it) of a formal gathering.

"You killed him, didn't you?" she mumbled her head pressed tight to her upraised knees. "You found him, and you killed him. You killed the only man that ever even gave a thought to wanting me."

"Even if I did," Reiji said, laying his hand on the doorknob, tempted to open it, "Why should that matter when the only way you will leave my side is as a corpse?"

"Is a blind, incompetent servant that valuable to you?" she asked bitterly. "Is abusing me the only thing that fuels your miserable ego and satisfies your wicked sadism?"

Reiji blinked at the door.

"Why are you trying to run back to him?" Reiji asked, irritation rapidly building in his voice, and he bit his tongue until it bled to stop himself from asking that painfully revealing question---

Why am I not good enough?

---

Brute

"It's not like you'd get it," she retorted. "It's not like... you'd get how I feel, so just... if you're going to kill me, just get it over with. Leave me alone."

Unable to stop himself any longer, Reiji threw the door open, breaking his lock, and Viola jerked her head up at him, her reddened, swollen eyes full of tears. Her nose, rosy and dripping down to her chin, down to the wet spot on the uniform that Reiji had her wear.

He approached her, gripping the front of her shirt with his fangs bared. He was feeling something snapping inside him, his nerves on fire. Feelings of inferiority swept through his mind, and rather than confront it, blind rage replaced it.

He slapped her. Her head might have come clean off if he hadn't remembered to restrain himself at the last second.

"Don't test my patience," he hissed as she clutched her swelling cheek, tears bubbling up into her eyes and spilling down her cheeks as blood filled her mouth. The scent was beyond tempting. Beyond horrible.

She stared at her bedsheets before she eventually turned her gaze back at her furious captor. A gaze that pierced.

"I forgot... how much I hated the sight of your eyes," she whispered with a mocking, forlorn and dishonest smile. She had regained her sight, but it didn't matter, now did it?

Reiji grabbed her by the throat and shoved her into the bed, blood spilling from her mouth incessantly. His wrath had turned to a white-hot poker, hotter than the branding that had stolen her vision.

And all Reiji could think about was the fact that behind her eyes, there was an affection she would not give him. She loved him. She loved Reiji.

Why, neither could fathom, and yet she would not give that love to him. It was a love that had been stolen by someone else, someone who had taken it clean away, far from where Reiji could touch it.

He barely stopped himself from crushing her windpipe in his hands, but the relief she might have felt from the new air that entered her lungs when he let go was short-lived.

She didn't care, so he didn't care either.

Reiji opened his mouth and murderously sunk his fangs into the depths of a carotid artery, her bittersweet blood spraying his tongue, drenching the back of his throat. His throat bobbed up and down, up and down, his nose harshly drawing in inconsistent breaths.

It had been a while since he heard her scream like that.

"Louder," he growled, ripping her uniform apart from the shoulder as his teeth dug bloody furrows into her pale neck. The pale neck that was leaking crimson waterfalls into her bed. "Loud enough for the deadbeat upstairs to hear you suffer at my hands."

And she did let out a louder screech as he ripped into her shoulder, his fingers bruising her wrists as he held her down. She screeched and shrieked until her voice gave out, and all that could be heard was the sound of a weakening struggle. The sound of teeth breaking skin, of Reiji's harried breaths, of the occasional slurp.

And the sound of silence.

[harus-simp]

Burning fire

-S.Hanbin x reader-

Warning:suggestive (mentions of making out,fingering),fluff

(I'll put a warning were the suggestive part starts so please minors dni)

Author's note: I think I was enjoying this too much opps 🤭

Also my first time writing something suggestive so let's see if you like it :D

Enjoy it ;))

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Your facade of a cold person towards sung hanbin will start to break down after a couple of touches and kisses that leave you a burning sensation due to being locked up with him in a cramped room.

Sung Hanbin. The most popular guy on college, the envy of many. He exceeded at literally everything, his teaching skills were phenomenal, his attention to detail,just name something and he'd just know what to do.

He belonged to the dancing department and was specialised in tutting and wacking,earning a lot of respect from his sunbaes and almost everyone.

His looks weren't ones to mess with as well, he literally earned the title of the college's crush, there wasn't anyone that hadn't fell for his smile and his charms, and that would include you as well. However you wouldn't just admit it directly because you didn't want to seem like you blended with the rest, so you just made this facade where you found him indifferent.

And he definitely noticed this, you both shared some classes and he had been meaning to grow closer to you, however it didn't matter how nice he was, you just pushed him away. And it was starting to get into his nerves, not just because he wanted to be nice, but you were starting to occupy most of his thoughts. He always thought of new ways to get you two closer and to make you notice him.

The smile you dedicated to others, he wanted that for himself as well, the little clapping you did when you got excited over something, he needed to see it directly(oh, he was falling hard I tell you).

But all that would change soon without any of them really knowing what they were getting involved on.

.

.

.

It was a day like any other, hanbin still trying to get you to talk to him and failing miserably, your friends teasing you about the situation (yes they knew your crush on him), yeah nothing new.

As the classes finished you headed quickly to the cafeteria to have lunch with your friends, while they all dedicated you that smug smile you so much hated.

"What?"

"Still ignoring the pretty boy?"asked seunghwan

"Oh come on guys, leave me alone, I just want to have a normal year"

"By ignoring the love of your life?" junhyeon said while making kissing noises.

Oh my God how annoying could your friends get sometimes?

"Hey look who's coming"pointed out gunwook

As you turned around you saw someone you didn't expect, seok matthew, also part of the popular guys and most importantly, hanbin's closest friend.

"Hey there, is y/n here?"he asked casually

"Yes, I am here"

"Well teacher hoetaek is calling for you"

Jesus christ, you thought it had something to do with hanbin. That was a relieve.

"Alright, thanks"you answered as you headed towards his office

Once you got there you were notified by him that you needed to run a little errand for him, bring stairs from the janitor's closet.

Well perhaps we forgot to mention that you were the first in his class and that's why he always trusted you to do little things for him (and of course you didn't have any problem).

On your way there you felt that someone was watching you, but when you turned around there was literally no one there. Hmm, how weird. But you resumed your walk until you were in front of the door you were told to be.

When you opened it you were about to grab the stairs that were there when a loud voice interrupted your action.

"Please y/n help"

It was none other than hanbin running for his life for God knows what reason, but he seemed really panicked and frustrated. You were completely surprised at his actions, you had never seen him act like that. However you didn't have time to react as he pushed you inside the room and closed the door behind him.

You felt your cheeks get instantly red as he put a finger to shush your mouth, not letting you protest about the situation.

"Sorry about this y/n, but there are this guys that I don't know and they have been chasing after me"he whispered into the dark because the lights were off.

The only thing you could feel was the heat radiating from his body and his touch on your lips.

"It's- it's alright"you muttered out how you could.

When you heard the footsteps get away you felt all the tension on your shoulders go away and so did his.

"Well thank God, I don't know what they want from me tho. Sorry for that"he said

"No, don't worry. Now let's get out of here, i still need to bring this to Mr hoetaek"

But as you tried to opened the door it was stucked, or more like it was locked from the outside.

You tried a couple more times but to no avail.

"Um, hanbin?"

"Yeah?"

"The door won't open..."

"What?"

He tried himself but just like your attempts, they were a failure. Now what?

"OMG I think they're coming again" and he put his finger where it was before as you could only stare at nothing.

But this time with his other free hand he turned on the lights as he saw your slightly parted mouth and your almost pleading eyes stare back at him. God you looked stunning just like that, like a pretty doll.

The janitor's room, that was actually pretty small, suddenly felt a little hotter than usual.

You both were starting to fell into each other's charms, but hanbin was the one to take the big step and started to approximate slowly to your mouth, and just before your lips made contact he asked you in the softest voice: "may I?"

You just nodded at him as he took his finger away from you and instead placed his lips on yours, but not with the softness you were expecting, instead desperation and frustration were felt from his quick and rapid pace(not that you were complaining tho).

.......................Minors DNI..........................

He then placed his arms around your hips, squeezing them from time to time making you whimper a little bit at his action as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Then you put them on his hair tugging on some strands a little harshly provoking low grunts to escape from his lips.

He then moved one of his hands to trap you to the door using the remaining one to wrap it around your waist.

The kisses you were sharing were starting to get quicker and deeper, tongues clashing and skin burning.

He then started trailing off kisses through your neck and collarbone sucking and pulling on your skin leaving deep purple marks there. Your soft moans pierced through his ears making him chuckle.

His soft hand starting to roam under your shirt making you feel literal fire. And the other one finding its way under the little skirt you were wearing and that was driving him crazy from just looking at it.

That same hand starting massaging your clit in soft motions making you see literal stars, then he moved aside your panties and started fingering you delicately, like you were the most fragile thing on the world, while he kissed you to keep your loud moans from coming from your pretty mouth.

Once you reached your climax he took out some tissues to clean you a little bit as he separated from you before it escalated into something else, not wanting your first proper interaction to go that far.

........................END OF IT...........................

He rested his forehead against yours as he stared right into your beautiful eyes, a soft smile making its way into his face.

"Y/n..."he breathed heavily.

You just nodded your head softly waiting for his answer as you didn't have the energy to say nothing more

"I've been meaning to do this for a long time now, but you just pushed me away not letting me even talk to you"he said sadly

"I'm really sorry, it's just I like you very much but didn't want to confess it to you"

"And how else where you supposed to see if I corresponded or not?"he teased you

You just hided your face on his chest to avoid the conversation making him giggle in the process.

"Anyways, after classes finish I'll bring you to a real date"

Oh how hard had you fell for this boy and how dizzy he made you feel from his contact, your skin burning from the lingering touches.

.

.

.

At the other side of the door stood a proud matthew thanking his friend from outside the dance department for the little persecution he had prepared for someone to confess, it was getting pretty obvious now and he was growing tired of his friend already so yeah 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♂️ (he's definitely not telling you though hehe)

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[dxrlingsofmine]

every time the rain comes down.

pairing: Paul Baumer x Reader

angst 

plot: you’re the one to be around when you find out Paul comes back from the war.

(partially inspired by Anna Blue’s song Every Time The Rain Comes Down)

You were a baker working for your parents’ bakery, and it sure did good. Sadly, a lot of businesses closed down during the war, but the bakery did well enough to stay. Someone had walked in… you looked up from the cutting board and saw a familiar face. Paul Baumer. He very frequently came to the bakery, like a regular customer type. You certainly loved the presence he brings to the bakery, so cheerful and so adorable. You could say you have a crush on him.

However, Paul was different, you did know he went to war… but he looked so miserable. It just broke your heart. “Paul!” You ran and gave him a hug, in which he slowly hugs you back. “(Name)... it’s refreshing to see you again.” You took a breath and walked back to the counter. “Want the usual? A slice of carrot cake and peppermint tea?” Paul slightly smiled as he walked towards the counter. “I honestly forgot what I ordered. Thank you for remembering.”

Your mother and father walked downstairs and saw you and Paul talking to each other. “Mr. Baumer! You’re back!” Your parents looked around, seemingly looking for Paul’s friends. This caused Paul to tear up, worrying you and your parents. “Its alright son, it’s okay.”

It wasn’t okay. It wasn’t okay at all.

“Father, do we have any clothes for Paul that we can besides this uniform?” You asked. Your father’s face lit up as you all went upstairs. “I have clothes, and you can bathe here. It’s alright Paul.” 

It was evening, and you heard a knock on your bedroom door. “Come in.” Paul entered your room, to your shock. He had on a really classy suit, his hair being the curl it is, and face washed and hydrated. “You look gorgeous, Paul.” You smile at him, he doesn’t respond and sits next to you on your bed. “I uh… I really like- I really love the letters you sent me. I didn’t get hardly any from my family, but the main ones I got were from you.” He leans slightly closer to you.

“I really care for you Paul. I wish I could’ve gotten an update from you, but I couldn’t. I mean, who wouldn’t want to check up on you?” You say as you squish his cheeks. It was a recurring thing that you often did with Paul. “Oh stop it.” Paul giggles as the two stood up, ready to go back to his place. 

You were both walking, hand in hand, heads on shoulders. You reach Paul’s home, with a lot of people in it, seemingly for a party. Paul gripped your hand tightly, out of fear. The two of you walked over to a table, where Paul’s father is seen along with the fathers of Ludwig, Franz, and Albert. You both sat down, not long before Paul was berated with questions.

“So kid, what happened? Was it amazing having to fight with my son.” Ludwig’s father asked, it was so insensitive. “No. He died on the first night.” Paul coldly replies. “I mean… my son died in all his glory, he was quite the fighter was he?” Albert’s father asks. “He was burnt by French soldiers. He wasn’t all his glory.”

“At least they died for this country.” Franz’s father smiles with pride, making you angry. “So that’s all that matters to you?! The country and not mourning your son’s father, what is the fuck is the matter with you?!” You yell out in anger. “Listen, you’re just some baker. You don’t do anything for this country besides make pastries.” Paul’s father replies. Now everyone was arguing, however Paul’s anger was boiling up at the second… until he took a glass bowl and smashed it towards the ground. Making everyone look his way in surprise.

“Why can’t you all understand that I didn’t ask for this?! I’m sick and tired of you all portraying the situation I was put through, it isn’t fun! And I’m frustrated about it! Nobody deserves to go through what we want through…” Paul runs upstairs, with you trying to comfort him. “You all can go to hell. How dare you treat his trauma like it’s something fun?!” You furiously said to the fathers as you went upstairs to Paul’s room.

When you got up there, you could hear the sound of Paul screaming and breaking objects. You immediately entered his room. The room was full of screams mixed with cries. Paul eventually got on the floor, crawling to you… he got on his knees and wrapped his arms around your thighs. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry (Name)...” You down on the floor with him, caressing him as you two laid on the floor.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. Shh, shh, I’m here Paul. I’m the one to be around and share your pain.” He looked up and smiled at you, seemingly remembering where you said that. “The poem you wrote for me, Every Time the Rain Comes Down, right?” You nodded as you both felt sleepy, holding each other’s arms. “By the way, (Name)...” “Yes?”

“I love you too.” Paul says as you both engage in a kiss.

[vampire-the-askerade]

Mitnick x Reader x Imalia

[This can be seen as platonic or them having a crush on you/ the reader. Mostly made a fun, little breather from something that I’m working on for a different blog that’s got a heavier tone to it. Barely proof read so sorry about that. Here’s an advise about dating sites, don’t use dating sites]

Your phone sitting on the desk next to you pinged. When you saw that it was the messaging app that you had downloaded , and the guy that had been bothering you for the past week, you groaned in frustration. You were going to just ignore it, but then the chime went off two more times. Before you could pick up your phone to try to think of how to talk to this guy, there was a set of spindly, sharp fingers that swiped it away.

“Listen, this is an intervention.” A voice that sounded like it was sistered with a constantly stuffy nose along with the fact you didn’t know that there was someone else in the room with you until a second ago let you know exactly who was here.

Mitnick cringed as he unlocked your phone, opened the app and started to scroll through the messages from the person bugging you. “Eck, going back through these is a nightmare! Can’t imagine them being pointed at me.”

“You’ve been in my messages?” You question.

“Did you ever think that I wasn’t?” He snickered as he looked through to be sure there wasn’t anything he missed during the transfer to his computer.

You knew that was a stupid question. There was alway more of a chance that the Nosferatu were linked into just about everyone’s everything, especially where computers are concerned. In fact, it was even more likely in this area that Mitnick was the one personally set to watch over your stuff.

“If it’s so awful to look at, then why are you still doing it?” You went to reach for your phone, but him being a rather tall guy with the long arms to match it made it easy for him to keep it away from you.

“If it’s so awful to look at, then why don’t you tell him to screw off?” Mitnick rebutted.

There was a frustrated groan that filled the room, not only for the fact that he asked you that, but also the fact that you didn’t have a clear answer for it. Overall this whole night was turning out to be miserable.

“I mean, I want to. But, like, he seems like he’s just awkward, maybe a bit clueless. I don’t want to be unnecessarily mean to the guy-“

This was cut off with Mitnick breaking into a full out laughter. He curled in on himself in a way that you could finally snatch your phone back, but he didn’t seem to care as he was still too tickled by what he just read.

“Aw, yeah! I totally forgot that! This loser called himself-“ Mitnick cleared his throat and put on the most stereotypical lead, romance character voice he could muster, “ ‘Rare~ like a black panther~’!“ There was another loud guffaw that followed this.

“I’m sorry; he said WHAT?!” Imalia’s raspy voice came from a dark corner behind you, the rest of her emerged shortly after and snatched the phone back away from you. “Oh, no! No, no, no, no, no! As your friend and expert meddler I cannot allow this to stand.”

“Should have known that you were here too.” You grumbled before turning back to Mitnick, “Did you bring all of the Warrens with you?”

“Nah, jus me ‘n Imalia know about it. Got to leave you with some dignity.” He teased with a boney elbow to your ribs. “Remember they don’t want to sound rude.” Mitnick reminded Imalia when he herd her typing something.

“Just grabbing something right now…” she mumbled as she was scrolling through something.

“Hey, don’t be downloading stuff onto my phone!” You chided.

“It’s just one picture.” She waved you off and managed to turn so you couldn’t get your phone back. If there were one thing that was the Nosferatu’s unspoken talent, it was taking and keeping things away from people until they were ready to give it back (if ever.)

Imalia switched back over to the messaging app, tapped on the username, and started typing something.

“(Hey, do you know what my favorite band is?)”

“(…)-

(No, babe, what is it?)”

This made her scoff and turn to you, “Really? I can’t really say that I ever felt even a little bad about what I’m about to do, but I certainly don’t now. Callin’ you, ‘babe,’ after only talking for like a week…”

“(Ghost)” she typed and then sent the album cover that she had downloaded. Then Imalia tapped on his name and pulled up his profile.

“Uh, Mal? What does that have to do with-“

“Pspspspspsps!” Imalia shushed Mitnick with a flittering of her hand as she messed around with the options.

“(Really? But you shouldn’t…)” the response preview popped up on top of the screen just as Imalia tapped the option she was looking for.

“Blocked!” She practically sang as everything went blank before going back to the home-screen.

“Hey!” You yelled as you finally managed to get your phone back. Once it was in your hands, you looked everything over to make sure she didn’t do anything else; while she might not have been as tech-savvy as Mitnick, there were few who were, but she could still mess things up faster than you could blink.

“It was for your own good, kid.” Imalia patted your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you started as you looked up at her, “but, maybe we should have-“

“Did you want to keep talkin’ with that guy?” Mitnick asked in a unbelieving but playful monotone.

“Well, no-“

“Then I’m gonna say something you will never hear me say again: Imalia’s right.” He concluded.

“All’s well that ends well.” Imalia aptly added an adage like she was on a low budget anime.

“Look,” you barely got the word out as you were rubbing your temples to ward off an on-coming, stress-induced migraine, “Just tell me that you two will stay out of my stuff from now on.”

“No can do.” Mitnick replied. “That’s literally my job.”

“I also refuse.” Imalia chimed in as well. “I’m a nosy bitch.”

These two were going to be the death of you. At least you didn’t have to deal with that weirdo online any more.

[dralione]

his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room (in my wildest dreams) | one

Summary: Draco finds his fellow Eighth Year Head, Hermione, reading terribly archaic sex advice, which he can't abide, so he offers hands-on tutoring instead. Totally all for her and not because of his crush on her, of course.

Rating: M (smut) ♡ WC: ~3k ♡ Ao3

He came across her in the library, as usual. She hadn’t been in her room, so he figured she’d be here. He’d just completed his rounds, it was past curfew, and no one else was around. It was the perfect time. 

“Granger.”

“Oh, Malfoy.” She raised her head from her book with a start, a light pink stealing across her cheeks as she realised he was standing in front of her. 

“What are you reading this late?” He snatched the book from her hands, flipping to the title page interestedly. Just because the War was behind them and they were on decent terms now that he’d apologised and grown more than a few inches of character didn’t mean he couldn’t still irritate her. Wasn’t that what friends did? She’d been particularly adamant about befriending him and the rest of the Slytherins as well this year, for reasons he couldn’t possibly fathom and had given up trying to understand, so really, she’d brought it upon herself.

“Ooh, Hermione Granger is reading erotica!” he gasped sarcastically, covering up the fact that he was actually surprised. 

“Give that back!” she grabbed for the book, but he had almost a foot on her and easily held it out of her reach.

“Ask nicely, Granger,” he tutted, flipping through the pages. “Let’s see, what scandalous scenes have you been reading about?”

“Please give my book back, Malfoy,” she forced out, holding her hand out.

He considered it. “Hm…no.”

“Malfoy!”

He thought it was funny that she forgot she was a witch and could use a myriad of spells to get it back. Skimming the content of the miserably inaccurate book, he lowered it slightly and gave her an aggrieved look. “Please tell me you read this to laugh at it and not because it gets you off,” he said. “This is miserably inaccurate.”

The pink became a lovely shade of rose at his mention of ‘getting off’. “My reading habits are none of your business. I’m an adult and can read what I like for reasons I have no need to explain to you.”

“Do it anyway,” he encouraged her. “I’ll give it back if you tell me why you’re reading this.”

She huffed and crossed her arms, pushing her breasts up, as she considered his words. They’d lived in the Head Dorms together for months by now, and she knew how stubborn and petty he could be. He could see her brain working the pros and cons of answering versus hexing him and stealing her book back.

“I read it because I was curious about sex, okay?”

He stared at her, letting his hand drop enough that she darted forward and retrieved it, holding it to her chest protectively as she glared warningly up at him. 

“You…were curious…about sex?”

“Yes, and what about it?” she snapped.

“Surely you’ve shagged someone by now, Granger. Weasley? Krum? Potter? Some Muggle?”

“No, I haven’t. I was too busy with school and fighting a war and didn’t have the brainspace to care about shagging some bloke when I didn’t even know if I’d survive the next year. I didn’t want to just lose my virginity in some meaningless shag and have it be over with. I wanted a connection, a friendship at the very least, someone I was comfortable being my naked, most authentic self with.” She tilted her chin up at him proudly. “I have scars and wounds and baggage, and I’d be bringing all that with me into bed.”

“I have a big bed,” was what Draco heard himself say in dawning horror. What did he just imply?!

She stared at him. He stared back. “Malfoy, what are you…”

Some of her Gryffindor courage must have rubbed off on him some time in the last few months, because he simply took a deep breath and said, “I’m offering to teach you how to shag. Properly. So you don’t traumatise some bloke when you follow terrible ancient advice.”

She stared at him even harder, and he half expected a repeat of third year’s assault, but instead, her shoulders dropped and she let out a breath. “Fine. Teach me how to have sex, O Sex God of Slytherin.”

He dropped his head back on his shoulders. “Never call me that again.”

She smirked. “No promises.”

-`♡´-

The walk back to their dorms was quiet. Draco wouldn’t have been surprised if she had told him she’d changed her mind when they entered the shared living space, but she didn’t. She simply stepped out of her shoes, tossed her jumper over the back of the chair closest to the door, and stated her terms and conditions. 

“One rule: no kissing.”

“No kissing?”

“No kissing. I may be letting you teach me how to…do everything else…but I draw the line at you kissing me.”

“Ouch, Granger. You really know how to make a man feel wanted,” he laid a hand across his chest.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, turning towards her room. “Are you coming?”

“Be there in a second, Granger. Go ahead and get comfy.” He watched her ascend the stairs to the bedrooms, her hips swaying and a hint of the shadow of her arse revealed by her pyjama shorts. 

Shaking his head in disbelief at what he was about to do, he collected his sanity in the minute he was away from her distracting influence, along with a glass of water. 

She was waiting on her bed when he knocked and entered her room, sheets and quilt kicked down around her knees. Her curls were spread around the pillows she leant against, one hand resting on her stomach and the other fiddling her wand between her fingers. 

He placed the glass on the nightstand on the side of the bed he stood by. “May I join you?”

She nodded. 

He climbed on and knelt in front of her, knowing the moonlight coming through the curtainless window would be enough to see each other clearly. “Granger, from now on, you listen to me, okay? If I ask you something, you respond verbally, even if it’s just a yes or a no. If you want to stop at any time, just say stop, or if you want a break, say pause. Those will be your safewords. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she nodded, then bit her lip to stop from saying more. 

He gently tugged it out from under her teeth, his thumb feeling the smoothness of her lips and making him wish he could taste them. He hated her rule. Surely she could have come up with something better than that to be the hill she died on to pretend she had control and knew what she was doing?

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he ordered softly. “I want to hear everything you’re thinking and feeling tonight. This works best with communication; instincts only get you so far.”

“I thought it was only really kinky stuff that needed safewords,” she admitted. “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“Everyone needs a safeword, Granger,” he explained patiently. “Even if it’s the most vanilla stuff out there. ‘Stop’ is the same as ‘red’ or ‘Quidditch’ or whatever other safeword you pick. If you’d feel safer with some other words, then pick one. But your instincts will tell you to say ‘stop’ if you feel uncomfortable, so I figured we’d keep it simple since you’ll be busy learning and feeling new things.”

“Oh. That makes sense. Sorry, I’m just a little nervous,” she admitted, her wand now flicking through both hands’ fingers. 

“That’s perfectly understandable. If you have any more questions, just ask. It’s why we’re doing this, after all. And I want you to be comfortable.”

“You’re surprisingly…considerate? Responsible? About this,” she told him. 

He was sure he looked a little offended. “I take my partners’ safety and comfortability seriously,” he informed her. “Surely you knew that on some level if you asked me to do this.”

She shifted a little, eyes trained on her wand. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound…like that. It’s just…a new angle I’m seeing you from.”

“I understand.” He gripped her chin in his hand, tilting it up to face him. “But I have one more rule I’d like you to follow. Keep your eyes on me when I’m facing you. I can tell a lot about you from your eyes, and I’ve got a lot on the line here, okay? What if you don’t look at me and I mess something up and then scar you from sex for life?”

A small giggle escaped her and she rolled her eyes, a little more fondly this time. “Got it. And I’m sure that won’t happen…you’re already doing a wonderful job of reassuring me.”

He was mildly surprised that a) she was feeling that and b) she admitted it to his face, but he was glad she did. It calmed the few nerves he’d revealed to her through his joke. 

“Thank you for saying that, Granger,” he said, releasing her chin. “Alright, since you’ve nixed snogging, that means I’ve got to get creative with starting my foreplay. How about…” he considered her for a second, the moonlight highlighting her blush as he casually mentioned sexual acts. What a sweet little ingenue. 

“Can I sit behind you?”

She nodded, then caught herself, moving out of the way. “Yes.”

“Good girl,” he tried, watching as the blush deepened. Ha, he knew she had a praise kink. He wondered how many of his other speculations would turn out to be correct, though some would take another several sessions to work up to…he hoped she allowed him to get that far. 

Propping the pillows behind him, he relaxed, then patted his spread legs. “Come sit against me, nice and close. Just get comfy, okay?”

“Okay.” She crawled back onto her bed, scooching back until her butt was flush against his crotch and her back rested on his chest. He silently spat out the curls that attempted to make their way into his mouth and choke him (he was into giving, not receiving) and moved her hair to one side. 

“Comfy? Good. Now, just relax. Don’t worry about anything that may or may not happen tonight. Just focus on my touches in the here and now, okay?”

“Alright.” She shifted a little more, a bit of tenseness escaping her.

Good. He’d have to start slow. Bringing his hands to hers, he slowly fitted his fingers between hers, getting her used to his touch on a non-private body part. Her hands were much smaller than his, her fingers on the shorter side, and what he thought was slightly warmer than normal. 

Slowly he began dragging their twined hands up and down her arms, light touches, just to get her used to him. 

“You’re doing so well. Just keep relaxing, focusing on me. I’m going to let go of your hands now and touch the rest of your body, okay? You tell me when something feels good. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Draco,” she nodded, and fuck if that didn’t make him a little harder, hearing her soft voice saying his name like that. 

“Good girl.” He freed their hands and let one slowly slide across her belly while the other moved up to her neck, his forearm fitting between her breasts. He didn’t wrap his fingers around her neck, although he wanted to, instead sticking to light strokes along her neck.

“Can I kiss your body?” He leaned forward, asking into her ear. 

“Okay,” she agreed. “I like your voice in my ear.”

“Good girl, telling me what you like,” he purred, punctuating his praise with a soft kiss where her neck met her shoulder. The hand across her stomach moved slowly upward, brushing the bottom of her breast.

“Oh,” she said softly, tensing a little then relaxing. 

He tried a little more pressure, and she made the noise again. “Was that better, or did you prefer the lighter touches?”

“Hm, do it again.”

He acquiesced, repeating his motions on both breasts, just to be sure. 

“I’m not sure, I like them both.”

“That’s good.” He left a short trail of kisses up her neck to her ear. “Can you feel yourself becoming aroused, Granger?”

A little intake of breath as he closed his teeth gently around her earlobe. “Yes.”

“Good.” The pad of his thumb brushed over her nipple, and he felt her toes twitch. Smirking to himself, he did it again. Trailing his fingers down her neck to her other breast, he gently lifted them in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples. 

“Will you let me take your top off?”

In answer, her hands shot to the hem of her shirt, but he closed his over hers, tutting at her. “Words, Granger, and also I asked if I could take it off, not if you could.”

He could feel her rolling her eyes, but she stayed surprisingly free of snarky remarks. 

“Yes, you may take my top off.”

“Good girl.” 

She leaned forwards a little, letting him slide her tank top over her head easily, then settling back against his chest. 

Draco thanked everything that he was tall enough that he could see over Granger’s shoulder and take in the wondrous view of her tits in all their glory. Cupping them in his hands again, he resumed his light, teasing touches, continuing until he felt Granger getting antsy.

“Ready for more?”

“Yes!”

He covered a chuckle at her exuberant answer, gently pinching her nipples with one hand while the other snaked down to her shorts and pants. It easily made its way under the elastic bands, feeling the short trimmed curls above her cunt. 

His middle finger parted her folds, feeling her wetness, causing him to stifle a groan in her curls. She stiffened at the new feeling but relaxed almost immediately. He still decided to check in. Better safe than sorry. 

“Doing alright, Granger? You can stop any time…”

“No. I want this. It’s just…new.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind that’s fine.”

She huffed and settled into him even further. He was a little surprised she hadn’t said anything about what was surely pressing into her perfect arse, but shrugged the thought away and continued his explorations. His ring and index finger kept her folds parted as his middle finger explored, feeling gently around as he made a mental layout of her cunt. It slid down to her hole, gently prodding before moving back up to find her clit. Still not quite ready for penetration, although he was pleasantly surprised at how wet she was. 

He felt a ridge that he was pretty sure was her clit…oh yeah there it was, based on the way her thighs and stomach suddenly clenched. “That feel good, Granger?”

“Yeah,” she sighed out. “Keep doing that.”

He experimented with different pressures and speeds as he circled her clit, finding what made her most responsive. Suddenly she stiffened, muscles clenching, throwing her head back onto his shoulder. “Oh yeah, right there, Draco!”

He kept up his movements, feeling unbearably smug at how wound up she was getting, He couldn’t wait to see her break. Just a little more…and there she went, tipping over the edge with a cry of his name, her thighs clenching around his wrist and her abs trembling under his forearm. He pulled his fingers out of her knickers after a few more seconds, loath to let her go after seeing her come like that, but not wanting to overstimulate her. 

He rubbed soothing circles on her stomach as her breathing evened out and her muscles stopped twitching. “You did such a good job, Granger, what a good girl.” He kissed her neck. “You were spectacular.”

She let out a long breath of air. “That was…”

His smugness increased as she was rendered incapable of completing her sentences. “That was great, Granger. Do you want to stop for the night?”

“Stop for the night?” she repeated. 

He nodded. “Yeah. If you’re too tired or overwhelmed, we could continue another night…if you wanted?”

She traced his hand lying on her stomach with a fingertip. “You’d show me again?”

“Yeah, why not? I wouldn’t mind making you come again, you were bloody ravishing.”

“O-oh. Well…if you’re offering…I wouldn’t mind doing this again…and maybe a little more? I am a little tired right now, though…”

“Alright. We can talk about it later then. So you’re happy with how tonight went?”

“Yeah, I am. That orgasm was…I hate to say it lest you explode from your ego expanding too much, but it was earth-shattering.”

He physically could not stop the smirk that spread across his face. “I aim to please.” He slid out of the bed after a few more minutes of cuddles, feeling her shiver as the cool air blew against her exposed skin. Picking up the discarded top, he held it over her head.. “Arms up.”

She looked at him bewildered, but raised them anyway. He tugged her sleep shirt on and gently pushed her back against the pillows, handing her the glass of water from her nightstand. “Sleep well, Granger. Don’t forget to pee.”

“Good night, Malfoy, and…thank you.”

As soon as he closed her door behind him his hand was down his sweats. He barely made it past a minute when he came all over his hand, her name on his lips behind a Silencio.

{two}

[mdhwrites]

Having discussed at length about angst and how it can easily negatively impact a story (i.e. The Owl House), why do you think angst has so much of an appeal among people? Because I personally haven't seen much of an argument from others besides "it makes the character(s) more relatable" or "it's more realistic that way."

And neither arguments are inherently wrong, I'd say. But it's naïve to assume angst can by default improve a story's quality, especially if it results in tonal dissonance or making a work too miserable to sit/read through. So again, why the widespread appeal?

Realism and relatability is a bullshit excuse for a lot of angst. A loooooot of angst is actually just too over the top to be seen as realistic, or dealt with so poorly that it isn't relatable at all. The people making these claims are just saying "Angst" instead of "Dark and edgy" for what they think 'mature' storytelling i.

Now, why is angst popular? Because drama as a genre exists? I will get into it more but I really do think terminally online people, who mostly consume Youtube and fanfic, just forgot that there already was a term for stuff going wrong in people's lives and causing emotionally intense stories and asking how people deal with that and we call that Drama. Drama is also seen as a more mature genre, hence why the Oscars like it so much, but also a lot of dramas suck ass for the same reason angst sucks ass.

Which brings me to the appeal and danger of Drama: Conflict, and especially interpersonal conflict. That is what angst and drama is usually there for. A twist in things that causes resolutions to be harder to happen because there are deeper, personal problems that need to be addressed in order to make headway on the overall problem. It's not like an adventure story where the conflict is a more potentially far off or less personal thing, a grand goal that doesn't really make the heroes themselves fight until some angst and drama is added to make the heroes butt heads with each other.

When done well, these elements allow for deeper characters, a better understanding of them and a wider exploration of dynamics and problems between people than would be normally possible in genres that are less focused on the characters. Romance shares a lot of similar strengths in this regard but that's also why a lot of romances include a good bit of drama. The term hot/cold romance exists because of the drama of figuring out if you even want to potentially be with someone after all and what it takes to finalize that choice. These do allow for genuinely very human expressions of who one is.

To use a work of mine as an example (Spoilers for The Blight's Ruff Secret/Their Ruff Secrets):

In the middle of the book, not quite the moment of adhesion, Amity loses it at Luz about how her curse isn't something that's fun. How everytime she steps out the door to go to things like church, she has to constantly fear being found out for the beast that she is since she is a werewolf. She accuses Luz of not being able to understand having to deny who you are at all times because if someone caught you even once, your life would be over.

Luz, who has a big crush on Amity while being at church because her mother is catholic, who just got bullied simply for being gender non-conforming, forces herself not to say anything. She instead just apologizes, despite knowing the pain too well. Despite wanting to share her sexuality but believing she knows what the consequences are if she ever does.

That is drama. That is personal problems causing friction and causing people to hurt each other because they are people and they are in pain. It is exploring that which separates and stresses us out. And that's within what is mostly a romantic comedy because if there was none of that friction, the romance wouldn't be as compelling. It's part of why opposites attract is so popular because the drama of the situation writes itself.

And part of why the angst explored in TOH about Lumity is such a fucking waste. -_-

But I had a point including all of this drama. I had things to say with it. There are payoffs to that pain. When you include things that will be painful to the audience simply to hurt them, that can easily become exhausting and miserable. I honestly don't seek out dramatic works very often, not ones that are primarily dramas at least, because I've been burned enough times and honestly, I don't need to be reminded of how life sucks just because it sucks. That's miserable and the last thing I want from my media. I want to see these things explored and reminded that we CAN work past them. That we can do better.

And I think that aspirational element is part of why people will always want to see their character suffer because the deeper the Belly of the Whale in a story, the more you celebrate when they escape. With how much redemption and the ability to be better than who you were is a running theme in my works, I know it's what I personally want and I like to believe it's part of what people like in my stories because it's something we all want to believe in. Something we angst about and would like to be assured isn't impossible.

See you next tale.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[livetogether--diealone]

[Hei pspspsps anon do you remember that chalex fic you asked me about and instead i gave you some other chalex stuff, well i actually got that one fic i was working on right here, okay like i've had this for a while but I wanted to post it here with a little art i thought anout doing but never got around to do it, maybe someday, but mh here it goes nothing. And let's go all the way back to Silverstone22 my behated race]

- made you laugh

He left the circuit as soon as possible, did his media part, team debrief and then bolted, no reason to wait around. He asked Andrea to drive to the hotel, it was a very quiet drive, he let his trainer chat just about anything but the race, discussing that was no use. Not that there was much to discuss about, another sure podium thrown into the garbage, for him . He should have been happy, the team got the podium Mattia wanted, who managed to make that clear enough, a win even, and he was left with 4th place, they were going home with 37 points. More than redbull, that should have cheered him up, he could still do it, they could still make it. Yet he wasn’t happy, wasn’t much about Carlos winning, that he could stomach, but the how oh the how he was left dealing with the rest of the pack on such used tyres against Lewis, against Checo, alone after having to deal and argue on the radio for the whole race for a shot to such an easy 1-2, it just-

Charles needed to get out of his head, or he would go mad. He didn’t dwell on lost opportunities, mistakes, errors. And he really couldn’t beat himself up for this one race, so he had to let go, because he knew in some way this was starting to become a pattern. So he started going through his phone: various texts from his brothers, friends, a missed call from mom; got it the phone was a no go. For a moment he toyed with the idea of changing his flight to tonight but no luck there either. At least listening to Andrea arguing in italian with english drivers was entertaining, making being stuck in traffic with no escape from his mind bearable. Eventually they got to the hotel when the sun was about to set.

Going up the step to the lobby Andrea handed him his card “You’re gonna be okay Charles?”

“Pretty banged up, I just need some rest, fly’s pretty early anyway” he mumbled, fumbling with all the stuff he was trying to carry, some gift from fans, signed caps to hand out while driving away from the paddock, shit he left in such a hurry bargaining his Ferrari for an unmarked car that he didn’t stop for fans on the way out. He was really miserable then; Charles slipped his hotel keys in his back pocket and exchanged goodnight with Andrea.

“Charles! Hei! Oh Charlie, finally”

He turned around with already with Alex’s name on his lips, he could have never mistaken that voice and the way Alex said his name, always like he had found what he was looking for at last, always like he could finally breath again. And that was actually what Alex looked like in that moment, a little dishevelled, out of breath. Did he run here from the circuit? Charles closed the steps between them immediately. “Alex... what? Why are you here? Are you okay?”. He shouldn’t be here, he had crashed, rather crushed between two cars, he needed rest.

“Perfectly alright, well maybe I collected a speed ticket, and I might have done a rally to get here, but I needed to check in on you” Alex was crouching down, hands on his knees, but his eyes were bright as ever.

Charles’ heart skipped a beat, here he was again marvelling at Alex’s kindness, he had to take a step back or he might have leaped right to him. He curled his hands in a fist, damn it, for a second time that day he was too deep in his thoughts and anger that he blindly forgot about the rest, about his friend, someone he loved cared for so much, who got injured and he didn't even think about him. Charles wanted this championship, he never wanted something this badly, and if he was really honest with himself, he was letting it take control a little too much when it came to the failures, more than he thought it was needed.

He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came. “Alex, I-” Charles looked at the other with so much guilt on his part, maybe he was that stupid. What he was gonna say anyway? That he was sorry? That he felt his dream slipping away? That he never hated more his team than right now? That he felt so lost and alone that maybe this was the last straw that made him crawl so far back in himself than he couldn’t perceive anything else? Christ Alex was had a scary crash, but he came here for him , and he wasn’t, didn’t want to be so broken that he couldn’t care. “I’m an idiot, Alexander. I am a total idiot and not a good friend, at all”.

And Alex did understand. Silently he reached out to touch Charles’ arm, searching for a confirmation in his eyes, once it was a go, he pulled Charles in an embrace. “Your bruised ego right now feels more important to me. Fuck Seb, I am not a Ferrari fan”. And Charles felt so small in that moment.

He grabbed Alex by his shoulders, and let go as Alex winced. “No, I think we’re both stupid. Alex please tell me you didn’t run away from the medical centre for this”.

“Nah, I got cleared, don’t worry too much silly” and he puffed up just for show. “But as I was saying, I’m here to make you feel better” Alex’s eyes shifted from soft to cheeky and Charles’ brain freezed, he swallowed loudly. “Come I’ve got something in mind”

Charles had no idea of what was coming for him when he got hauled in the back seat of a car driven by Alex’s trainer Patrick, who also looked like was oblivious to this whole situation. The journey stopped at Alex’s family home, where he was greeted by an array of animals as well as people. And it was loud, so different from his own; while both came from rather bigger families Charles’ home was quieter. But he didn’t mind this, it felt nice having all his senses attacked so any race memory could be finally locked away, for now, hopefully for good. Alex waddled through the sea of everyone wanting his attention and careful to step over a very large unbothered cat “That’s Horsey, this is his kingdom”, he dragged Charles by his wrist that quickly became his hand upstairs, shoved him in room while shouting at the little heads that popped from the railings “Cousin Charles and I are tired, keep it quiet would you?”.

“Sorry for the mess” Alex was leaning against the door he just closed, he was now almost whispering and when Charles looked at him more confused than ever he directed his eyes to the rest of the room and Charles understood was all the fuss was about, four little dirty-ice coloured kittens were sleeping on a bed, all piled up and curled on eachothers. He took a step towards them looking back at Alex and mouthing they are so cute, he gently sat on the bed, one of the kittens noticed him and wobbling on the cover he tumbled next to Charles’ extended hand. And in less than half a second he was being swarmed by all of them.

Alex watched the scene quite amused, he could not make up Charles’ giggles from the kitties’ now very loud meowing. The other felt his gaze on him, it was not as weary as it was during the car ride, when Alex could not stop looking back at him, just to make sure he didn’t open the cardoor and let himself fall, reason number one he heard the distinctive lock sound. And to tell the honest truth, he was so so glad Alex came to take him away from a very long night of drowning himself into the old habit of self-inflicted flagellation. Charles went deep into his mind again and was startled when Alex spoke, his voice now very close, “I always knew you were part cat, you fit right in” and he got another giggle out of Charles - something he never once failed to do – and then more of a whisper “Where did you go again Charlie?”

Charles turned around to look at the other, they were now both laying on the bed, from opposite site. He took a deep breath but didn’t speak yet. He fully laid on his back, mindlessly petting the kittens still. He felt Alex doing the same, the weight of his body making Charles shift towards him. “I feel very alone” he breathed at last, voice cracking. He added “In the team, Alex” because he knew a friendly reprimand was coming when Alex turned to face him and propped his head on his bent arm. “Because they left me alone today, and Mattia... He, I don’t know made me feel guilty I complained about the missed stop?” he paused once more. The anger was still too fresh, still burned brightly, piled up with all these opportunities to win, to score more points, gifted to other people, other drivers, other teams. It wasn’t so unbearable to make him lose faith in his team, that meant losing faith in driving all together, but mistrust in some areas was starting to build up, and it was so painful, because Charles would still do everything for his team, being in Ferrari was the only thing he knew and he didn’t want it any other way. It was more of curse. And very tiring. That, he felt this wave of fatigue suddenly over him. “I lost it, I know I did” he whispered, not even sure if loud enough to be heard, unconsciously out of fear of it being true. He brought his hands to cover his face, emotions running high and overwhelming.

Alex reached out, gently, he touched his forearms, and then he peeled his hands from his face; if Charles had managed to hold back the tears until then he now didn’t feel that strong. “Mathematically it’s not done yet. Oh, don’t give me that look, I can count” and he made Charles laugh. Again.

“Have you seen my team Alex?”

“Unbelievably red? Prone to mistake a pie for a tyre? Yeah, I think I did, once or twice”

“Oh yes, yes, we are that stupid” he sniffled back. And went back to the little cats, a couple of them had started to lick his face. He took one and placed it on his chest, scooting more next to Alex, heads aligned, he could almost rest on his shoulder if he wanted, if he could master such courage.

The conversation fell into a peaceful lull, Charles’ mind was starting to drift away from what had happened, from the buried deep fear of his misplaced trust in his team. The last few hours were coming finally into focus, Alex was coming into focus, where he’d always been, there for him. There to take him away from the lows in his racing career from karting times till now, years later. There to make him laugh like no other could, folded in half tears pooling at the corners his eyes. The only one bothered to follow Charles’ made-up golf rules, calling him from Thailand when the kids from the orphanage dyed Alex’s hair red like your car Charlie, running to hug him right after Charles’ final race in f2 even if you literally crashed into me when I was about to win and my racing career may be ending today, I’m gonna miss racing with you so much, holding up an umbrella for him in Imola because he forgot one and following him around the paddock, showing up late at night at his apartment with a terribly cooked pasta al pesto after his Monaco GP.

And Alex will have kept showing up.

Under the podium in Austria, grabbing him in parc ferme helmet still on screaming how proud he was.

Two days after the French gp, basically kidnapping Charles for the whole day just to get him out of the house.

The same week sitting on the tarmac in Hungary, planning for a last-minute summer road-trip.

At Monza on the phone after Charles’ second place “I have to go to the podium, Alex, no turn the tv off you need rest, you had a respiratory failure”.

In Singapore cheering him between the Ferrari mechanics, after Alex’s retirement.

At Suzuka in an hotel room, huddle together in the dark when Charles’ nightmares got too real.

In Abu Dhabi, at the very end walking out of the paddock together.

And he decided he might live in this moment forever, just the two of them, pressed together, a little awkward with Alex half hanging out of the bed with his long legs, taking horribly pictures of him, Charles needing to put his own legs on the headboard to avoid falling on the floor; but it worked.

Alex had never bothered to turn on the lights, so he hissed when one of his sisters opened the door to check-up on the two drivers. He gestured to go get lost, “he’s sleeping” he hushed, taking a quick look at Charles, now a welcoming weight on his shoulder. “And he drools too” Alex added, voice suddenly softer.

“Tu sbavi” the reply came in only what Alex could identify as Italian, he scoffed at it, Charles shuffled closer. “Thank you, Alexander” his voice was still thick with sleep, his lips caressing the skin between Alex’s shoulder and neck. “I think...”

Alex held his breath, his mind going a little numb.

“I think that I love you very much Alex” he mumbled in the end, nestling himself in the crook of Alex’s neck.

He couldn’t resist kissing Charles’ mole on his jawline. “I think I love you too Charlie”

[baura-bear]

HEY POOKIE !!!!! HOW ARE YOU!!! HOPE YOU'RE FEELING BETTER!!! here's some vigilante david javid i wrote for you. it's kind of sloppy but also what david experiences is a big part of the idea in itself sooo!!! also yeah his superhero name is desmodus which I KNOW is lame but its origin is the latin name for vampire bat so. yeah. :3

David groaned, slouching further over his desk, eventually slamming his head on its surface and closing his eyes. He felt miserable.

He was just trying to sketch out some upgrades for his suit (if it could even be called that, considering it was just a normal outfit with a few quirks), and he ended up wallowing in his anxieties.

He straightened his back, running a hand through his hair as he sighed and looked at his room's ceiling, spinning on his chair. He felt miserable and he was a loser. And because he was a loser.

As David looked over at the corkboard above his desk, at the plenty of photos of himself and his friends, mostly Jack, he felt even worse. Because David Jacobs was a sore loser, and Desmodus was a cool badass. And he felt like Jack liked his vigilante persona more than actual David.

It was irrational--they've been friends for pretty much their whole lives, they've been through a lot, and yet, for whatever dumb reason, David was slowly growing sure that Jack didn't like him that much. He felt boring, too boring for Jack.

And it's not like Jack gushed about David's secret persona daily or something, but still, the one-off mentions about how cool he wasbor whatever were enough for David to gradually become paranoid. Plus, on the occasions that he ran into Jack while in disguise, Jack did seem pretty smitten.

How could David not feel miserable? He's been in love with Jack to the point of no return, just for Jack to have a crush on some guy running around in a gas mask? Not just any guy, either, but David. He could only imagine Jack's disappointment until finding out who really was under that mask.

David decided to sleep the sorrow off. He stood up and quickly toppled over to his bed, but of course, instead of actually sleeping, he just started doomscrolling on his phone, watching some stupid videos, anything to turn his brain off for a moment.

Just when his eyelids actually started getting heavy, someone suddenly barged into his room, startling him. He sat up and looked over at whoever was standing in the doorway, and it was Jack. Of course.

"What are you doing here?" David asked, scrunching his eyebrows.

Jack scrunched his eyebrows right back at David, throwing his backpack on the floor already. "What d'you mean? It's Saturday."

"Oh. It is?"

"Yeah."

Right. David forgot that it was Saturday, and as such, he forgot that Jack always came over for the night.

David didn't bother moving, and instead he just moved to the side a little, giving Jack more room, which he quickly occupied by lying down next to his friend.

Jack, hands at the back of his head, sighed contentedly, closing his eyes for a moment as he relaxed. That let David inspect the boy's face, and that was one of his favorite activities ever, even though he memorized everything so well.

"You seem kinda sad," Jack noticed, only now opening his eyes and turning his head to look at David, who didn't stop shamelessly checking Jack out, currently studying the curve of his eyebrows.

David shrugged. He couldn't tell Jack anyway, so he didn't bother.

"Awh, c'mon," Jack ushered, rolling himself closer to David, arms lazily wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer. "What's goin' on, Davey?"

David groaned, shaking his head, refusing to speak, though the embrace was obviously very welcome. He hugged Jack's torso, burying his face in his neck, or rather the fabric of his hoodie, and he closed his eyes.

A couple of seconds passed by like that, Jack patiently waiting, caressing David's back. "So you ain't gonna tell me?" he asked finally, but he didn't move.

"No." A firm answer, and Jack knew better than to pry at it.

"Alright. If you change your mind..." Jack offered still.

"I know." And David also knew, remembered that Jack cared about him. All of a sudden his worries seemed silly in retrospect, and even if just for now, David felt okay. He would offer Jack some leftovers in a minute, but he was silent, wanting to stay like that for a minute or two more.

HAIIIII DAV E!!! I am feeling better in terms of COVID!! Still a little funky in the head though but that’s normal! I hope you’re doing well!!! You’ve been pumping out so much great art??!!!! Writing and drawing included

I’m always so happy when you share with me :’)

David is so silly!!!! Of course Jack likes him silly silly boy (Desmodus is cool because Davey is cool obviously 🙄) hehe I love these two boys so much i wanna see Jack interact with desmodus cause I just know he thinks that’s the coolest shit ever omg