#i have seen so much photos of this beautiful church | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

crimsonxcloverr · 4 months ago

Text

writing this because everybody deserves some dale porn and i yapped about this idea before… also some of this WILL be in my fic! not exactly the same cause i don’t wanna spoil anything, but i didn’t wanna keep you guys waiting :) i did proof read several times, so if i missed anything, S O R R Y!

anywaysss, i decided to give you all a little something until the fic is released!

my asks are open! send requests or whatever you’d like! <3

ENJOY LITTLE ANGELS! i hope? :’)

NSFW WARNING (18+ ONLY): blasphemy, oral (f! receiving), fingering, size kink, degrading, praising, edging, minor satanism.

WORD COUNT: 1,897

DALE KOBBLE X FEM!READER.

THE POLAROIDS.

you’re getting ready for the monthly doll delivery for dale, but before exiting the basement, you stealthily take dale’s polaroid and head to the bathroom. he was too busy upstairs fixing ruth’s brown nun veil which gave you the perfect opportunity… you lift your pretty little church dress and snap a photo, smirking at the masterpiece as it develops. you nonchalantly place the camera back on his work table where he normally keeps it, putting the polaroid picture of your pretty cunt in an extra birthday card he had lying around.

you set the card where he can see it and head upstairs, standing next ruth as you patiently wait for him to fix your veil. he could read the look on your face, a look he’s seen plenty of times before— a mischievous grin and sly look in your eye.

“you aren’t so innocent under this pretty little dress, are you?” he whispers in your ear, wetness forming between your thighs already. your breath hitches at his words, dale booping your nose with a slender finger. he knew damn well you had no panties on. what a filthy fucking girl…

“okay, get going,” he sighs, opening the door and gesturing his long arm out for you both to leave and make the deliveries. you walk over to the car shed where he had his 1966 chevy caprice wagon parked. dale had already gone back down in the basement, his brow raising when he saw the birthday card. he peers over his shoulder as he opens the card, both his brows now raised when he saw the polaroid of your pretty pussy. by the time you took the heavy tarp off his car and set it aside, dale was already outside running towards you. you went to turn to see what his deal was and let out a gasp as dale threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes without warning.

“dale! you fucking jerk!” you hiss at him, his slender hand giving you a few teasing spanks as ruth watches, your cheeks turning pink from embarrassment.

“mm, little angel, i’m gonna have so much fun with you,” he giggles opening the front door and kicking it shut with his foot.

he takes you to the basement and puts you down, practically wheezing at this point. not because you were heavy, but because the multiple nose jobs fucked with his sinuses. he looks at you from under his brows while undressing you, your tits jiggling from the rough movements. he takes in your naked form, his sweatpants growing tighter and his cock aching for you. he lets out a pathetic moan, grabbing your tits and squeezing them in his large hands, his mouth connecting with yours. your cunt begins to throb, practically dripping. you were clenching around nothing, needing filled up.

“dale, please,” you beg, his kisses traveling from your mouth, to your neck, until his tongue began to swirl around your stiffened nipple, his index finger and thumb toying with the other. you moan softly and hop onto his work table as he continues to suck and play with your nipples. he was obsessed with your tits, always has been. the way they sat perfectly on your chest, how warm and soft they were, and how they ballooned when he squeezed you into tight corsets, straining against the garment ready to burst out. he pulls away with a soft popping sound and moans at your beautiful body. he pulls his orange wheeled chair over and sits down, another moan escaping him when your pretty pussy was now in front of his face. he looks at you from under his brows again, his slender hands pushing your legs up and holding them for you before inhaling your scent deeply. your was heart pounding, needing his tongue in you immediately.

“ooooh,” he whines before diving in, staring at your dripping cunt. he uses his two slender fingers, opening your lips, his breathing now heavier as he admires your tight, wet hole. he pushes your legs back some more and his tongue laps up your wet folds, pushing his tongue inside you. you moan loudly and push his face deeper into you, his nose rubbing against your clit as you grind against his face.

he growls deeply while tongue fucking you, his tongue feeling like wet warm silk as he laps over your cunt again. he flicks his tongue against your clit, gripping your thighs to keep you in place. “d-dale,” you whimper and moan, legs shaking while he devours you like a juicy peach, his gaze piercing through you. your core tightens and your clit throbs— you’re so close. he groans when he feels your hands gripping his curly locks, pushing his face deeper into you. he sucks your swollen lips before pulling away, smirking at how pathetic you look. “my pretty little nun,” he teases as you sit there completely naked with your veil still on.

“you fucking asshole,” you groan on the verge of tears knowing damn well this fucker was teasing. you let out a whimper as he grips your chin forcing you to look at him.

“ooooo,” he chuckles, gripping your chin tighter. “we have a mouth on us today, don’t we?” he growls as he pulls his sweatpants down, just enough for his throbbing cock to spring free.

he taps his thick cock against your throbbing cunt, trailing the tip up and down your wet folds, the two of you whining and shuddering. you gasp softly and look up at him, brows knitted and mouth agape as he slowly squeezes himself inside you, filling you to the brim. you moan loudly, your tight hole stretching to accommodate to his size. you clench around him tightly as dale pushing your legs to your chest, folding you in half like a lawn chair. he growls like an animal claiming what’s his, pounding in and out of you causing some of his work supplies to fall off the table. you moan like his own personal whore, his entire length buried deep in you as you took it like you were suppose to. you continue to moan, pleasure and pain coursing through you as his tip brushes against your cervix. you can feel yourself getting closer, your back arching and body shaking.

“please,” you whine as dale pushes on the back of your thighs for more leverage, pounding into you, the old table creaking under his rough movements. you cry out in pleasure, your climax so fucking close. you spit on your fingers and look up at him while rubbing your clit for more stimulation.

“my, my, you're getting quite worked up, aren't you? such a naughty toy, my little devil,” he chuckles in a patronizing tone, letting out a grunt and groan, his cock twitching for release. “don’t cum, you know the rules,” he hisses at you, moving your hand away from your swollen clit.

tears of frustration began to fill your eyes again, your poor cunt throbbing for release, your walls convulsing like crazy. he growls as you squeeze around him, a plea to let you bust. you can feel his cock twitching inside you, his movements becoming for aggressive, pathetic whimpers and tight-high pitched moans coming from dale as he tries to hold back. he gently slaps, his curly locks dangling in his face as he glares at you from under his brows.

“i’m. so. fucking. close,” you groan between gritted teeth trying your absolute best to hold back. you watch as he shakes his head while biting his botched lip.

“i feel you squeezing,” he grunts trying his best not to nut. “be a good little whore and hold back. don’t fucking do it,” he hisses between his teeth, grabbing the polaroid camera next to you. “hold those pretty legs up for me.”

you moan trying not to cum, holding your legs open as he snaps photos of his cock pumping in and out of you. he whines and moans enjoying the sight through the lense, the images falling on your stomach. the way your wetness and his precum seeps out of your overstuffed cunt was too much for him to bear, causing dale pull out before you could finish.

“mm, fuck,” he moans loudly as he cums on your stomach, his large load spritzing all over your skin while taking pictures. he looks down at you and breathes heavily, smirking softly knowing you just want your release. “must be hard... being so delicate and fragile..." he whispers, his breathing still shaky while setting the camera down, his fingers trailing over your thighs.

he pushes his middle and ring fingers deep into you, letting out a high pitched moan as if he were mocking you. you whine and whimper as dale slowly fingers you, his thumb stimulating your clit. “f-fuck,” you whine while holding your legs open, staring down at his fingers that are working at you. you look back up at him with pleasure all over your face, your pussy squeezing his long fingers and your clit throbbing against his thumb. your climax starts to creep up causing you to arch your back and ride against his thumb as he fingers you.

“such a good little angel,” he whispers over your moans knowing it’ll set you off, his movements nice and slow so you can enjoy every ounce of pleasure. you let out a series of moans and your legs shake as dale pounds his fingers into you.

“fuck!” you cry out, your walls clenching and your clit throbbing uncontrollably as you cream all over his fingers. he doesn’t stop. he places his free hand on top of you pelvis and his fingers aggressively toy at your g spot which makes you squirm and shake, your moans becoming louder.

“there ya go, such a good little angel,” he coos, praising and taunting you while trying to get you to squirt. “make a mess for me. i know you can do it,” he groans loudly over your moans, coaching you through it. “that’s it… there you go sweet girl…” he whispers. “you’re being so good for me, but you know He’s watching too. make a mess of us.”

the urge to cum washes over you again, your whines and moans growing louder from desperation. you grip his teal tshirt and pull him closer, dale trying to pull away to keep his rhythm going. he wasn’t letting up until you exploded. you cry from the overwhelming pleasure, your forearms ready to give out and your legs still shaking. he pushes on your pelvis a little more after pressing the button on the polaroid for the timer. dale breathes heavily watching your movements and listening to the pretty sounds you’re making. he lets out a gasp as you squirt everywhere, your moans filling the basement once more and the polaroid snapping a picture of the mess inaction.

“you did so well, my little angel… i’m sure He’s so proud of you too,” he whispers while removing his fingers. he inhales your scent and sucks on them, watching you lay there on his work table completely spent. “now, maybe next time you’ll think twice before teasing me like that again and taking off,” he scoffs, tossing a photo at you.

it was the picture of your pussy that you placed in the birthday card.

#dale kobble #dale ferdinand kobble #longlegs x reader #dale kobble x reader

50 notes · View notes

sequinsmile-x · 7 months ago

Text

Where You Go - Chapter 2

She isn’t sure what does it, whether it’s the condescending tone in her mother’s voice, or how she can hear her aunt laughing in the background, but she’s lying before she can stop herself.

“Actually, I am seeing someone."

AKA - the one where Emily asks Aaron, her best friend (who she happens to be hopelessly in love with) to pose as her boyfriend at her cousin's wedding, and things change between them forever.

-x-

Hi friends,

Thank you so SO much for the reaction to chapter 1 - genuinely a little blown away.

They are going to get much, *much* stupider before they figure it out, and I hope you enjoy the journey <3

As always, please let me know what you think - it means the world!

-x-

Warnings: full list of tags can be found on the Master List

Words: 5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

He’d always known she came from money, but he’s still surprised when they pull into the driveway of the estate where they were staying for the weekend.

“They’ve booked this entire place?”

She chuckles at the disbelief in his voice and pops another piece of candy in her mouth as she sits up straight, no longer slouching in the passenger seat.

“Oh yeah,” she says, blowing out a slow breath as she rolls her neck, her body stiff from the 6-hour drive, “Aunt Charlotte and Uncle David always want the best for Tiffany.”

He hums as he continues to drive towards the mansion where the wedding is being hosted. Emily had explained that the entire place had been rented out - every room booked and being used for Tiffany and her soon-to-be husband’s guests.

“Haley and I got married in church and then had the reception at a rec centre,” he says and she turns to look at him, unable to stop herself from smiling, the happy wistful look on his face when he thought of Haley one she thought he’d never get back, “We were fresh out of college, it was all we could afford.”

“It still looked beautiful,” she says, thinking of the photo album she’d seen one night as Aaron showed it to Jack, the large book open on the little boy's lap as he ran his tiny fingers over pictures of his mother, “And it wasn’t all for show like this weekend will be.”

He hadn’t missed the tension in her that had only increased the closer they got to their destination, a tightness in her shoulders that only her mother could bring out of her. Before he picked her up this morning, the passenger door stuffed full of packets of candy he’d gone to the store to buy for her, he’d wondered if he was doing the right thing, if he could cope with being so close to her for two days before they went back to their normal distance. The moment he saw her, all uncharacteristic nervousness and rambling appreciation for what he was doing, he knew he didn’t care about himself - only her - and he didn’t want her to face this alone.

“Thank you for driving the whole way,” she says, smiling softly as they park up. He chuckles, winking at her in an attempt to soothe her.

“I don’t seem to remember you offering to switch at any stage,” he teases, his smile only getting wider when she scoffs at him, “Plus, what is it Garcia called you that one time - a passenger princess?”

She rolls her eyes but can’t stop the laugh that escapes as she unclips her seatbelt, “This is all very rich coming from the man who wouldn’t have handed over the keys even if I asked.”

He watches as she looks back at the estate they are staying in, and her smile fades, slipping off her face as they watch other guests mingle.

“We could turn around,” he says and she looks at him so quickly he thinks it must hurt, “Say we had a case we couldn’t get out of.”

She doesn’t think she’s ever been more in love with him and it takes her a moment to get over it, to swallow everything she can’t let herself feel back down, the lump of it painful in her chest, “That’s sweet but, at this point it’s going to be easier to stay,” she replies, her hands tight in a ball on her lap so she doesn’t reach out for him, “Thank you for doing this.”

He shakes his head, “You can stop thanking me. This is what we do for each other. We…” he trails off, unsure how to put it into words, and he clears his throat, “Show up.”

It didn’t feel like enough to explain what they’d become for each other, a back-and-forth that they’d unknowingly started when he showed up at her door and asked her to stay after she’d quit to protect him.

“Yeah. We do,” she says, her tongue sticking out to wet her lip, “We should get going.”

They get out of the car, but he moves quickly, at the trunk and hooking both of their bags over his shoulder before she’s even got her door closed. She raises her eyebrow at him when he shakes his head as she tries to take her bag from him

“You wouldn’t want them to think you’re with someone you isn’t a gentleman, right?” He asks, a smirk on his face she finds as irritating as she does attractive, and he nods towards the small group of people nearby, including her mother and Aunt Charlotte, out of earshot but close enough it’s clear they are watching them.

She huffs, “I suppose not,” she says, her hand dropping to her side, “Last chance to back out.”

He steps towards her, missing how her breath catches in her chest as he looks over at Elizabeth, and he places his arm around her, his hand landing in the curve of her waist. He tugs her closer, desperately trying to pretend his palm didn’t fit perfectly in that space, his thumb catching under her ribs and his little finger against her hip.

“Never.”

___

She can barely concentrate at the rehearsal dinner.

All she can think about is Aaron’s arm slung across the back of her chair, how his fingers would occasionally graze her bare shoulder when he moves. If she didn’t know she was as excellent as she was at hiding her feelings, if she hadn’t literally been trained how to, she’d be worried that she’d immediately give everything away.

Her mind keeps flicking between the gentle way he’d been touching her all day and the queen bed in their room. She hadn’t thought about it until they arrived, something she chastised herself for, but she knows she can’t say anything about it without raising suspicion. She’d seen the look on Aaron’s face too, his eyes ever so slightly wide as he dropped both of their bags down onto the bed, a comment about how they’d figure it out later hanging in the air between them.

He makes her jump, his hand on her knee under the table when she’s too distracted by him to hear the waiter ask her if she wants more wine. He immediately withdraws his hand, an apology in his eyes as if he didn’t even realise he’d done it. She reaches out for his hand on the table and squeezes it, linking their fingers together as she tells him it’s fine, that he hadn’t overstepped, with nothing more than a soft smile and her warm skin against his.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were seeing anyone,” Elizabeth says from across the table, making Emily curse, not for the first time that evening, whoever put the seating plan together.

“Well,” Emily replies, reaching for her wine, feeling emboldened by the slight buzz from the alcohol and the fizz in her skin wherever Aaron touches her. “We don’t talk all that often, Mom. Should I have sent an email?”

Aaron coughs to cover a laugh, and he runs his thumb back and forth over the pulse in her wrist, and she only realises right then that she’d never let go of his hand.

“It’s funny,” Elizabeth says, a look on her face that lets Emily know whatever she was about to say was the complete opposite of funny, all of her focus on Aaron, “I saw you at Del Mar a few weeks ago,” her smile turns wry, “I was going to say hello but I saw you were with someone. I only saw your date from behind,” she flicks her eyes to Emily, “If I’d known it was you I would have come over.”

Emily feels Aaron get tenser, the heat radiating off the arm he has slung over the back of her chair getting closer as he shifts a little in his seat, at the mention of what must have been one of his last dates with Beth before they broke up. She knew this was a test, an attempt from her mother to poke holes in the story she didn’t entirely believe, and it was one Emily was more than willing to take.

She leans closer to Aaron, flashing him a reassuring smile as she makes a point to reach for his hand behind her, linking their fingers together as she tugs his hand over her shoulder so she’s now holding both of them. She desperately tries to ignore how right it feels to be boxed in by him this way, how his fingers seemed to slot perfectly between hers. She tries to memorise it, wants to remember how it felt to do something as simple as hold his hand for the rest of her life, doesn’t want this taste of what could have been to fade.

“We love Del Mar,” she says, squeezing his hand, “Don’t we honey.”

He snaps out of whatever trance he’d been in and he nods, squeezing her hand back, an apology he doesn’t need to give her shining in his eyes.

He smiles as he looks at Elizabeth, making a point of saying something he knew was true even if the context was a lie, Emily’s sweet tooth the only reason he kept peanut butter cups in his office, half a pack of them still wedged in his car door. He wonders how well Elizabeth knows her. If she knows Emily had a love of chocolate that rivalled that of his young son, if she knew she hated pens with blue ink to the point she once told him off for signing off paperwork with one. He wanted nothing more than for it to be his place to make sure Elizabeth knew that he knew who Emily was, that he loved her for who she was, not who he wanted her to be.

“You can’t keep Em away from the dessert menu. No matter how much Tapas we order.”

Elizabeth lets the point go after that, which Emily is grateful for, and the rest of dinner goes by without incident. As soon as the drink reception starts, Aaron goes to the bar. Emily loves that he knows her well enough that he doesn’t even ask, a soft smile on his face as he steps past her, his hand skimming over her lower back as he goes.

She barely has a moment alone when Tiffany walks over, throwing her arms around her like it had been weeks since they’d last spoken, not years, “Emily, it’s so good to see you. I meant to call after…well everything,” she says, coming the closest anyone had so far to mentioning her return from the dead, “But you know what life is like.”

Emily hums, not sure that your cousin faking their death was normal in most people’s books, but she lets it slide, “Of course, It’s good to see you too, Tiff,” she says, hugging her for a moment before stepping back, “Thank you for inviting me, this is already a beautiful weekend.”

She waves her off, “Oh of course. We have got to talk about that boyfriend of yours,” she says, casting a glance over her shoulder, “Aunt Lizzie said he’s your boss?”

Emily clenches her teeth and suppresses a sigh, unable to help but wonder how many conversations there had been about her and Aaron that she hadn’t been privy to since she told her mother he was coming.

“Yes, we met at work,” she says diplomatically, unable to stop herself from smiling when she looks over and he’s looking at her already, “He’s amazing,” she says easily, because it was true, “Anyway, you should tell me about Andrew.”

Tiffany immediately beams at the change in subject, “Oh, well he works for Daddy…”

She forces a smile and makes eyes at Aaron across the room, silently asking him to get back here and he nods, turning back to the bartender in an attempt to hurry him along. Emily huffs out a breath, barely paying any attention to Tiffany’s self-involved rambling, and she crosses her arms over her chest as she looks back and forth between her cousin and the back of Aaron’s head.

“Oh my god, what’s that?”

It takes a moment for Tiffany’s words to register, and when Emily looks at her she realises she’s staring at her chest. She looks down and she feels the life drain out of her, the brand mark Ian had left behind peeking out from the top of her dress, pushed up by her crossed arms. She barely thought about it these days through sheer force of will. She didn’t want to give it the power it had over her in the beginning, didn’t want it to symbolise what Ian had intended it to. She hadn’t thought about it when she’d packed the dress to wear this evening, and all of a sudden all she could think about was if the dress she’d brought for the actual wedding would show it too.

She clears her throat, hoping her voice doesn’t shake as she pulls the dress up just enough to cover it, “Oh, it’s nothing,” she says, smiling at Tiffany, hating the intrigue she sees in her eyes, a reflection of when they were girls together, when they would get up to mischief in hallways that were used to serious people in pressed suits.

Tiffany leans in, her voice low as if she’s conspiring, not picking up on Emily’s resistance to talk about it, “Did he do that?”

Emily knows that Ian had taken some kind of mythical place in her family’s lore, the man so bad she’d had to fake her death after he’d come damn close to actually killing her, and she hates it. It makes him bigger than she wants him to be, large and somehow more ghoulish than he’d been when he was alive.

She clenches her teeth, her lungs burning as she struggles to breathe, “Yes. He did,” she says simply, looking over at Aaron again, her eyes meeting his as he turns away from the bar, a drink in each hand, and she smiles tightly at Tiffany, already walking away as she carries on, “Excuse me.”

She needed air, she needed to get out of here. She needed to remind herself that she’d somehow survived. As she steps outside the cold air is briefly overwhelming, forcing more air from her lungs as she stumbles ever so slightly, catching herself on the wall for a moment before she walks forward - putting enough space between her and the ballroom until she can deal with it again.

She’s barely alone for a second when she hears his voice, a blessing and a curse all wrapped up into one because of course he’d check she was okay.

“Emily?”

She turns to face him, the smile she’d been using on her family all day painted across her face, “I’m okay, I just needed some air.”

He briefly considers leaving her to it. Considers handing her the champagne he’d got her and heading back indoors even though he can see through the lie, can see the fake smile and the shining eyes that she is so desperately trying to hide. He can’t bring himself to leave, something about the nervous energy flowing off of her like a fine perfume enough to keep him rooted to the spot just a few feet away from her.

“I saw you talking to Tiffany,” he says, stepping closer only to put the glasses of champagne down on the table between them, cigarette butts he’d assume were hers if she’d been out here any longer strewn across it, “Did she say something?”

She sighs, and whilst her instinct is to lie, to brush it off, she doesn’t. She fights against it because she can see that he cares, that he’s trying to be the friend she finds herself needing more and more these days.

“She…” she clears her throat, looking down at the ground to break eye contact, “She saw the scar on my chest. She asked about it and in a very roundabout way she asked about Ian,” she laughs humourlessly, “And I know it’s something people will ask about, but for the first time in a long time I chose outfits for this weekend without thinking about it…and now it’s all I can think about.”

He knew about the clover, she knew that, so she didn’t have to explain any further. He’s silent and when she looks back up she half expects him to be staring at her chest, his gaze fixed on the dress that she was holding in place, her hand unable to move, but he’s looking at her face, his lips pressed together as he decides how to reply.

“Do you want to go back to the room?” He asks, the randomness of it slightly disarming at first, but she finds herself nodding, wanting nothing more than to just hide for the rest of the evening, but she hesitates, her hand pressing further into her chest. He takes off his suit jacket and offers it out to her, “Here you go,” he says, his lips turning up into a soft smile when she looks at him like he’s crazy, “It will cover it until it’s not the only thing you’re thinking about anymore.”

She huffs out a breath and she shakes her head, “Aaron…”

“Come on,” he’s still holding the jacket, a hand on each of the lapels as he encourages her to turn around, “Plus, it’s cold out here. What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn’t offer you my jacket?”

She knows what he’s trying to do and it warms her from the inside out. If it was anyone else she thinks she’d refuse, even if it was an actual partner, but there’s something about him offering to help in this way, when she knows he understands how it feels to grapple with a body changed by something he had no say over, that she can’t turn down.

“Well,” she says, nodding as she turns around, “We can’t have people thinking you’re a bad boyfriend.”

She closes her eyes as he slips the jacket onto her arms, the mix of the smell of him wafting from the material and the way his fingers graze over her shoulders as he settles it onto her briefly overwhelming. A flash of the affection she wanted from him all the time.

“Exactly,” he says, grateful she’s got her back to him, that he has a moment to gather himself, the feel of her bare skin against his as electrifying and tortuous as it had been all night. “You ready?”

She turns and he tries to ignore how good she looks wearing his jacket, the sleeves of it going past her hands and the hem almost mid-thigh. When he blinks he can picture her in nothing but one of his shirts and it’s too much, forcing a shiver out of him as he looks at her again. She frowns.

“If you’re cold-”

“I’ve got it under good authority that I’m a walking furnace,” he says, cutting off any attempt to give the jacket back as he stands next to her, linking his arm through one of hers, “I’ll make it to our room.”

She nods and lets herself be led back into the ballroom, taking the opportunity to slip back into their roles as she wraps her other hand around his tricep, all but hugging his arm to her side. They let her mother know they are going to bed, and Emily takes a moment to assure Tiffany she’s fine when she attempts a clumsy apology, saying that she was tired from the journey that morning, the lie easy and sweet as it sits on her tongue.

It’s only when they make it back to the room that Emily considers that they’ll now have to deal with the one bed issue. When the door is locked behind them, their linked arms uncurling the moment they are behind it, she huffs out a breath as she looks at the bed.

“I can sleep on the floor,” Aaron offers, his expression kind as she’d ever seen it, “If that makes you more comfortable.”

She shakes her head, “No,” she says, the gentle weight of his jacket still pressing on his shoulders, the lines already so blurred from the half a day they’d been here that she can’t bring herself to care that she’d inevitably be hurting her own feelings by having a taste of what it would be like to sleep next to him, “We’re both grown-ups. And I don’t want you to hurt your back,” she winks at him, “As long as you promise - no wondering hands.”

His eyes go wide and he splutters, a sound she’s not sure she’s ever heard from him before, “Emily, I’d never-”

“Aaron,” she says, reaching out and placing her hand on his arm and squeezing, the shift of his muscles under his skin making her stomach flip, “I’m kidding. You’re probably the only actual gentleman I know,” she assures him and he nods, laughing weakly at his own blustering, “I’m getting the bathroom first though.”

He nods, oddly grateful for a moment to himself, to recalibrate after the strangely domestic feeling that had settled over them, “Of course.”

He sits on the bed as he waits, the sound of her getting ready for bed floating in from the bathroom, muffled slightly by the door. He smiles as he hears her humming to herself, something he’d found out she did whenever she did almost anything outside of work. He feels familiar love for her blooming in his chest as he allows himself to imagine a life for a moment where this was his soundtrack every evening as they wound down the day together.

When the door opens and she steps out he’s taken aback by her natural beauty, the softness that came with just being Emily and not Prentiss or whatever her family expected of her. He’s grateful that he’s seen her like this before, that countless evenings in his apartment with Jack where she’d worn sweats and baggy t-shirts, with no make-up and her hair piled on her head like it was now. It means he’s prepared, that he doesn’t stare at her for too long or make her self-conscious on an evening when she already felt on edge thanks to a thoughtless comment from her cousin.

“Do you feel better?” He asks as he stands up, grateful taking his jacket back from her, folded over her arm - a far cry from her own clothes balled up in the crook of it.

She nods, “Yes, thank you,” she stands there for a moment, not able to read the look in his eyes and hating that she can't, “Your turn.”

He smiles and steps past her into the bathroom and she blows out a slow breath. She climbs into bed and waits for him, only realising she hadn’t checked what side he preferred when he steps out a few minutes later in his pjyamas, a wry smile on his face.

“That answers that question,” he says, but before she can offer to swap he’s climbing into the other side of the bed, “I prefer this side anyway.”

She presses her lips together to stop herself from smiling, furious at herself for the girlish reaction that made her stomach flip at that admission, “Lights off?”

He nods as he settles into bed next to her, both of them careful to stick to their sides as the room falls into darkness and silence

“You’re not like any of them,” he says after a few seconds, clarifying when he realises he’d verbalised half a thought, “Your family. You’re not like them.”

She hums, her smile sad in the darkness of the room. There’s something safe about it, about laying next to him, both of them achingly aware of the other just a few inches away, their bodies stiff and tight as they desperately try not to touch each other, even though all it would is one of them reaching out their hand. She isn’t sure if it’s the comfort of him being so close, or that she can pretend for a moment that she’s alone, but she finds herself saying something she’s never told anyone.

“I used to pretend that I was adopted. I’d lay in bed and wish my real family would come get me, and that I’d have maybe a brother and a sister and parents with normal jobs,” she smiles wryly as she tilts her head towards him, searching for his face in the dark, “But I undeniably look like my mother,” she laughs humourlessly, “And I have my dad’s nose.”

He smiles, swallowing back the desire to tell her she’s beautiful, the words stuck against his ribs as he forces them down, knowing it’s not his place to tell her that no matter how much he wants it to be.

“Do you miss him?”

She presses her lips together as she turns to face him again, his face clearer now her eyes had adjusted to the dark, “My dad?” She asks, and he nods, “I do. Or I miss what we could have had,” she smiles sadly and shrugs, “I was in college when he died and…we were never that close. I hoped one day we could be but we never got the chance.”

He can tell by the way she drifts off, how her voice catches in her throat a little, that she feels exposed. He hates that she feels that way. After everything they’d been through he wanted her to know she could trust him with anything, that he would never judge her. They knew the worst parts of each other and were still here, still clamouring to learn more and he doesn’t think he’s ever had that with anyone - even Haley.

He clears his throat, determined to make her more comfortable, “I can understand that,” he says, turning to look at her, lost in her eyes that somehow seemed deeper right now, as if the darkness of the room was bleeding into them, “My dad he…” he clears his throat again, his jaw briefly tight, “He wasn’t a good man. At all. And it almost made it worse when he had good days - because it meant he was capable of being the father I wanted him to be,” he smiles wryly, shaking his head at himself as he rests his head back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling as he says the last part, something he’d never dared to utter out loud, “The father I want to be to Jack.”

Emily didn’t have to be good at her job to know that Aaron had grown up around violence. It was written across his skin, in the fine print of how he acted, how he would switch from being careful to risking his safety in a heartbeat. It was in how gentle he was with Jack, how he’d press Batman bandaids against grazed knees with care so tender it made her ache. Skin that had once broken open over his knuckles, torn apart by bone and tooth as he beat a man to death in front of her, stretched white as he put his hands over his son’s on the handlebars of his bike, words of encouragement flowing out of him so easily he didn’t resemble the man who’d once barely spoken to her when they first met.

She can’t help but reach over, her hand wrapping around his over the covers as she pulls it from his chest. She links their fingers together and squeezes, her expression serious when their eyes meet.

“You’re an excellent father, Aaron,” she says, running her thumb back and forth over the heel of his hand. He smiles tightly, and it’s enough to tell her that he doesn’t entirely believe her, “I’ll tell you that every day until you believe me,” she smiles wryly, “Or at least until you tell me you believe me to get me to stop.” They both laugh and it eases something in her chest. She feels drawn to him, shifting her upper body just enough to press her cheek against his shoulder, hungry for more physical contact after being pressed up against him most of the day, storing as much of it away as she can before the weekend is over, as if she’s saving acorns for winter. “Jack is so lucky to have you.”

He hums and breathes her in, hesitating for a moment before he rests his cheek on the top of her head, letting himself pretend for a moment that this was his life. That he fell asleep like this with her every night. He hears her suppress a yawn, but he doesn’t move, content to lay in this awkward half-embrace as long as she is happy to.

“We should get some sleep,” he says, and she nods, yawning again.

“Tomorrow is going to be a long day,” she grumbles, making no move to shift away from him, the comfort of being this close drawing her in, an addiction she isn’t entirely sure she’ll be able to give up in approximately 36 hours.

“Night, Em.”

She’s already sleepy, pulled into it by the comfort she thinks follows him everywhere and the fantasy that she could have this forever, “Night.”

She falls asleep first, her hand loosening its grip on his as she drifts off but not slipping free, her fingers still linked through his. He dares to turn his head just a little, not wanting to risk waking her, and he kisses her forehead, his nose briefly buried in her hair before he rests his cheek there again, a soft smile on his face as he closes his eyes.

When he falls asleep he dreams of a life where he could have this for more than a weekend.

-x-

Tag List:

@ssa-sparks , @ptrckjcne , @lyds102 , @glockleveledatyourcrotch , @hotchnissenthusiast , @danadeservesadrink , @ssamorganhotchner , @emilyprentissisgod , @notagentprentiss , @freesiasandfics , @emilyshotchniss , @thecharmingart , @paulitalblond , @hancydrewfan , @camille093 , @whitecrossgirl , @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess , @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife , @ms-black-a , @beebeelank , @aubreyprc , @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart , @criminalmindsgonewrong , @fionaloover , @kinqslcys , @prentissinred , @ccmattis-22 , @denvivale317 , @thrindis , @hotchsguccitie , @cmfouatslota77 , @alexblakegf , @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch , @emobabeyy , @victoiregranger , @stormyweatherth , @wanderingdreamer009 , @ssablackbird , @luhwithah , @lex13cm , @prentisstheorem, @dont-emily-me , @mrs-ssa-hotch , @jocyycreation, @itsmytimetoodream , @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield , @canuk-eh

Join my tag list here!

#hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron x emily #hotchniss fan fic #emily prentiss #hotchniss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss

53 notes · View notes

paisholotus · 6 months ago

Text

Love You For Life

Summary: Katsuki's wedding day

Warnings: Strong Language & fluff

Requested By: Anon

A/N: this is inspired by the song Love U 4 Life by Jodeci. This mf long but I hope y'all enjoy.

Narrative

Six months later

Today was the wedding of number two pro hero Dynamite and number five pro hero Y/N.

The media was anticipating this wedding, waiting outside of the church, waiting for photos to be released from the ceremony. No news reporters were allowed inside, except for the photographer.

Everything thing was set up beautifully to their liking. The food was put out in their designated spots, and the tables were decorated according to vision. Everything was going perfectly, except for the groom, Katsuki Bakugo, hyperventilating in the back.

"FUCK FUCK FUCK! OKAY, KATSUKI, DON'T FUCK THIS SHIT UP! THIS IS YOUR WEDDING DAY....FOR CHRIST SAKES GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER! YOU LOOK LIKE A SHITTY EXTRA RIGHT NOW!" He told, himself, holding both hands over his face.

"Damn, man, just calm down! You acting like you're getting ready to fight a villain or something. It's your wedding day. Just relax." Denki said, trying to calm down the angry blonde to his best ability. But being Kaminari, that's something he could never do.

"You think I don't know that shit, SPARK PLUG!" He growled, popping small explosions from his hand.

Katsuki was just extremely nervous. There is no way to front about it. The whole relationship of 8 years he was his usual confident self, but here on this day where he was getting ready to marry the love of his life, the one who would bare his future children, the one he would grow old with, suddenly hit him in the face like a ton of bricks.

"Bakubro, what are you worried about? I mean our whole friendship. You've been as confident as ever. You run up to your fears and take them head on, so you getting married shouldn't be no different. You know Y/N loves you, even with all your flaws, so go out there and show her why you love her." Kirishima said, holding Katsuki shoulder.

"B-but, what if I mess up or sum shit. What if I start panicking? I can't let them extras see me like that, especially Y/N." Katsuki muttered, looking at himself in the mirror.

"Alright, kacchan, stop saying this stuff about yourself. Neither of you has cold feet. You both have been crazy about each other since UA. I mean I've never seen a person love you with so much sincerity, even back when you acted like a fucking rapid dog." Izuku said, laughing along with everyone else, making Katsuki glare at the green haired man.

"The point is you're literally made for each other. So, even if you do mess up on your words out there, I'm sure Y/N isn't gonna love you any less. So get out there and do your best." Izuku finished, looking at Katsuki through the mirror, smiling encouragingly.

Katsuki turned around and looked at Sero, Shoto, Kirishima, Denki, and Izuku. All his best friends and I smiled a little nodding. They all did a small group hug and got ready for their best friends big day.

-Time Skip-

Y/N and all her friends helping her get ready, unlike Katsuki, she wasn't freaking out. I mean, she was nervous, that was expected. But she wasn't freaking out. If anything, she was excited to marry the man she loved since she was a teenager. Not many people can say they've made it this far. She knows the water works is gonna start as soon as she sees him standing at that alter.

Mina did final touches on her hair as her sister did her makeup. A gold crystal hairpin was clipped onto the hair and sprayed with hair spray for extra shine.

As she got up and stood in front of the mirror, she got emotional. She thought she looked absolutely beautiful. She turned around to her bridesmaids and to her family, waiting for their say on how she looked.

Her mother placed her hand over her mouth and cried, saying she looked so beautiful. Y/N waved her hands over her face, laughing, trying to stop herself from crying. She felt like a princess. Like how all little girls pictured themselves on their wedding day.

They had their little moment and got ready to have Y/N walk down that aisle.

-Time Skip-

The music started as Y/N walked down the aisle holding on to her dad. As she stared at Katsuki, the waterworks officially started. He looked so handsome.

"Could you just please tell me, will you believe in love and the promise that it gives?"

Katsuki's heart was pounding out his chest. He could feel it in his ears. You looked like the most beautiful woman in the world. There's been plenty of moments in their relationship where he fell in love with you all over again. And this moment was at the top of his list.

"I wanna love U 4 life, 'cause your love is why I live. Will you believe in love and the promise that it gives?"

They both couldn't keep the smiles off their faces as Y/N made it closer to the altar. They realized that today was actually happening. Both of them were marrying each other for the rest of their lives.

"But, now I know that you understand. I wanna take you by the hand and walk with you down that aisle."

Y/N waved at family and friends as she finally made it to Katsuki. She looked into his deep red eyes, filled with tears, and smiled tearfully. She reached her hand up and wiped his cheeks.

"Just please tell me, will you believe in love and the promise that it gives? I wanna love U 4 life, 'cause your love is why I live."

"You look beautiful." Katsuki whispered, smiling softly.

Y/N looked at Katsuki, feeling her eyes water again, "You look very handsome yourself." She said, chuckling.

"I love you." Katsuki mouthed.

"I wanna love U 4 life."

"Love you more." Y/N mouth back as tears slid down.

"cause your love is why I live."

#black reader #black writers #black tumblr #self post #tumblelog #poc reader #poc writer #black girls #black representation #black excellence #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugo x black reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha #mha x reader

41 notes · View notes

silverofthunder · 10 months ago

Text

☆ (the beauty of) your world ☆

Papa Emeritus IV x GN Reader

summary: With a smile on your lips, you just listened to him, enjoyed how his voice seemed to reach somewhere deep and touch you in a way you couldn’t quite explain. It was truly beautiful and you could swear that if you hadn’t already fallen for Copia it had certainly happened now, right in this moment.

content: 2.8k words, mystery (kind of), drama, fantasy, romance, fluff, SFW (i think?)

♡♡ part 1 ♡♡ part 2 ♡♡ part 3 ♡♡

Fourth part already, wow! Now I have finally started to plan this story so it might help keeping this all together - hopefully, at least. This is my fave part so far, it was so easy to write this. Enjoy!

The time seemed to pass way too slowly as it usually did on Fridays. You had checked the clock too many times and picked your phone up several times to scroll social media so you could have something to do when there were no customers to be seen. However, there wasn’t much to see in social media apps – only a few posts about weekend plans or cute photos of pets and then only random recommended, boring stuff that you just ignored.

You leaned against the counter with sigh and locked the phone, putting it aside and let then your gaze to take in the shop. It didn’t take long before a sound of buzzing got your attention and you picked your phone back up, seeing the notification of a new message arrived hovering on the screen. Your heart made a happy jump in your chest as you saw Copia to be the sender and quickly you unlocked the phone, opening the message.

Meet me by the abandoned church at 10 pm. - C

Smile rose to your lips instantly, excitement hopping up several levels within you. Your curiosity was aroused, too, so you had to reply and ask what that was about. It didn’t take long before Copia replied with ”you’ll see it, then” and a winking emoji. You let out a light chuckle, mind already starting to ponder all the options of what would await for you. The abandoned church itself was a cool sight to see and you had done your exploration there a few times but surely there was going to be something more.

”Whoever got you smiling like that must be a special one.” Your co-worker’s, Olivia’s, voice broke you out of your thoughts and you quickly unlocked your phone, turning your head to see Olivia looking at you with amusement.

”Yeah, he is,” you admitted and Olivia seemed to study you closely.

”It’s fairly new thing, isn’t it?”

”Yes,” you answered briefly as you really didn’t want to share much about your personal life. Olivia was nice and all but you wouldn’t exactly call her your friend.

”If he is a good one, please, tell me where did you find him? I’ve gotten so sick and tired of the assholes who just disappear after one meeting or who don’t know how to treat a woman respectfully,” Olivia said and you could almost sense her frustration.

She had talked about her… acquaintances several times and it seemed that she had been really unlucky with guys but you really couldn’t indentify with her situation. You had never looked for anyone, you had enjoyed your single life until Copia had just appeared in your life.

”Maybe you should just stop looking for someone,” you suggested, shrugging and then grinning. ”Worked for me, at least.”

Olivia didn’t look impressed, her one brow rising up.

”So I should just wait and see if I happen to run into someone in one day and then he magically falls in love with me?”

You chuckled, nodding. ”Yes. It honestly can happen.”

”I doubt it,” Olivia stated, though now there was a small smile tucking at the corners of her mouth. ”How did you meet your guy, by the way?”

You grinned, shaking your head.

”Trust me, you don’t want to know that.”

Olivia looked like she wanted to ask more but you shook your head again and she got the message. You weren’t going to tell her more. Not now, at least.

You were a bit late as you had taken too much time figuring out what to wear for the evening. Eventually you had settled for a button up shirt and some loose-fitting trousers with a long, warm coat, scarf and your favorite mittens. Copia was already waiting for you, leaning against the handrails in front of the church, a guitar case on the stairs by his feet.

”Sorry, I’m a bit late,” you apologized, smiling at him as you climbed a few stairs up.

”Don’t worry, I have all the time in the world,” he said, pushing himself off the handrails and taking a hold of your hand and leaning in to kiss your cheek.

”What’s that for?” you had to ask, pointing the guitar case. ”I didn’t knew you play a guitar.”

”I didn’t play for a long time but I felt it would be nice to do that for a special occasion.”

”And this is that special occasion?”

”Yes,” Copia said, smile wide, and picked up the case, still holding your other hand. ”Let’s go.”

You let Copia lead you away from the stairs, taking then turn to right and head behind the church. It was kind of hard to see when there were no working lights around on your path but you trusted that Copia, or vampires in general, had a good night vision. You tried your best at not to trip on any branches of bushes or anything else that grew or were on the ground as you walked forward and realized that maybe your choice of trousers and coat wasn’t the best.

Copia took you all the way to the back of the church and then continued forward where there seemed to be some smaller building. You walked past that, and then you could see another, a bigger building rising before you. Copia stopped by the metallic staircase and motioned you to go first.

”Is this safe?” you asked, eyeing the stairs suspiciously.

”Yes,” Copia said softly, gently patting your back and urging you forward.

You started climbing, the metal under your feet giving a small noises with every step. It was kind of unnerving but knowing that Copia was there with you, made you feel safer. With Copia’s instructions you climbed until you reached the roof and when you turned to look at towards the church, the sight that greeted you was so pretty. You could see the city spread out before you in all its night glory, the lights shining in different shades near and far, the moon casting its light above you.

”Wow,” you said in awe. ”I had no idea that you can see the city from here.”

”Well, now you know,” Copia said, stepping beside you and putting the guitar case down. ”This is one of my favorite places, I have spent so many nights here.”

”I can see why.”

You took a glance at Copia, seeing him looking at you with a soft, happy expression.

”What?” you asked, now properly turning to Copia.

”I thought that if I ever found someone… special I would bring them here,” Copia spoke softly, a dreamy smile on his lips. ”This is a part of my world – the quiet, oftentimes lonely nights. But seeing all this made me feel less lonely, no matter how odd it sounds.”

Something tugged at your heartstrings and you instinctively moved closer to Copia and wrapped your arms around him to comfort him. He relaxed into the embrace and for a while you just stood there, in silence.

”So this is a date, then?” you eventually broke the silence, pulling slightly back so that you could look at Copia.

”Sí, obviously.”

You smiled, moving your hand and giving him a light, playful shove to the upper arm.

”Such a romantic,” you teased, making Copia laugh, a proper, deep laugh this time. You loved the sound of it, your smile only growing wider. It always felt good when you made him laugh.

”Always have been,” he said, maybe half-jokingly, then leaning in and placing a kiss on your forehead. ”Now, sit down and get ready for some guitar tunes.”

You didn’t have to be told twice so you sat down, eager to hear Copia playing. While you waited Copia to take his time for getting ready, you let your gaze admire the night lights, and hoped that you had taken your notebook and pen with you. It wasn’t typical for you to leave home without them but this time you had thought that you would rather enjoy the moment as it was, without any distraction.

”Here,” Copia soon said, your gaze falling to the worn-out notebook he was handing to you. ”There’s some pieces of lyrics I’ve written.”

Surprised you took the notebook, examining the cover. There seemed to be some symbol on it, like it was embedded on it but due to darkness and wear and tear you couldn’t make out exactly what it was. Just as you hesitantly opened the notebook, Copia played the first chords, and you removed your other mitten and took your phone out of your pocket, putting the flashlight on and pointing it towards the page. Words were written in black ink, handwriting looking pretty and for a moment you just admired it.

Copia was now playing properly, the soft, slow melody filling your ears and you started to read the words. The longer you read and the more you listened Copia’s playing, it felt like the words on the pages and the melody matched well sometimes. Whether it was intentional or just a coincidence, it was beautiful nonetheless. Then you closed your eyes, for a moment just focusing on the sound of the guitar, letting the music paint a picture in your head. Sadness, longing, hope.

It didn’t take a long before you were caught off guard by a low, sweet voice. You opened your eyes, turning to look at Copia completely in awe. You had had no idea that he could also sing but it certainly was a nice surprise. With a smile on your lips, you just listened to him, enjoyed how his voice seemed to reach somewhere deep and touch you in a way you couldn’t quite explain. It was truly beautiful and you could swear that if you hadn’t already fallen for Copia it had certainly happened now, right in this moment.

When Copia eventually stopped singing and played the last chords, you put your phone and Copia’s notebook down and plunged then forward to smash you lips against his. Copia let out a surprised noise, then melting into the kiss, his other hand cupping your cheek. You balanced yourself by leaning against Copia’s shoulders with your hands as your mouths explored one another slowly. There were so many things you hoped you could say but didn’t have words for so you had to try to convey them all through the kiss.

Way too soon air became needed for you so reluctantly you pulled away, searching for Copia’s gaze, your heart beating faster inside your chest.

”That was amazing,” you breathed out, knowing it was quite an understatement but right now you had no better words to offer. Copia grinned.

”I’m glad you liked it.”

”Liked it? I loved it!” you stated emphatically. ”You really have a beautiful voice and the lyrics… Wow, I’m impressed.”

Now Copia was basically beaming and you couldn’t help but lean to place a quick kiss on the tip of his nose. It made him chuckle and you felt the sound of it in your heart, the warmth spreading all over you.

”You definitely need to play and sing more,” you said smiling. ”Have you ever played for the audience?”

Copia nodded. ”Si, but it’s been decades since the last time. For some reason I lost a bit of the spark to do that even tough it was fun. But I think that tonight I might have gotten a part of that spark back.”

The way Copia’s eyes shined even in the darkness of the night, made you feel so happy.

”Are you implying that I inspired you to pick up the guitar and start singing again?”

Copia flashed you a crooked smile, raising his other brow.

”Well, you’re an artist yourself, so you probably understand how the inspiration works.”

You nodded, lifting your hand up to caress Copia’s cheek.

”Oh, I know that very well.”

Copia leaned against your touch, smiling sweetly, and you were so glad that he chose this night to spread out his heart and show more of himself. This was a perfect date, if you were honest. While you would have been completely fine with the basic movie or dinner date, this seemed more… you and Copia if that made sense. You weren’t even sure how dinner date would even work with a vampire.

”What’s going on in that sweet head of yours?” Copia interrupted your train of thoughts and you shook your head.

”It’s silly…” you started, lowering your gaze. ”I was just thinking how perfect this date has been. And I was wondering how it would have worked if we had had a dinner date instead.”

Copia moved his hand under you chin, gently making you to look at him.

You hummed, running your fingers along Copia’s cheeks, stopping right upon his upper lip. Copia’s lips parted slightly and you could see the fangs coming out, a wind-like movement passing you before settling into a warm vibration around you.

”That’s not silly,” he spoke softly. ”I’m happy that this has been a great date for you and I have also enjoyed this so much. And what comes for the dinner date… Well, I can eat human food but it doesn’t do much, you know. It would have been a bit weird for me but I would have managed it, of course. But it didn’t feel right for us so I wanted to do this.”

”With you I feel more like a human,” Copia said quietly, caressing your chin with his thumb. ”But I also hate these vampire aspects less.”

Smiling, you leaned closer to Copia’s face, watching closely how his other eye changed its color to red, how his nose twitched and you felt that odd satisfaction deep down as you knew that your scent was causing that. Naturally you had to close the gap between you, capture Copia’s lips in a kiss again, your mouths easily finding a perfect, slow rhythm. The night was cool and his lips felt cold against yours but you felt so warm within. It wasn’t a full, blazing fire but something more gentle, lingering – like a fluffy blanket wrapped around you. You hoped you never would have to let go of that feeling.

With a fluttering heart you pulled then back, smile matching to Copia’s as your gazes met. There was so much to see in those beautiful mismatched eyes, whole books of stories, remnants of the long life lived and you were already so lost in the vastness of it, the world you were now the highlight of.

The next thing seemed to happen in a blink of an eye and you found yourself to be pinned down against the cold surface of the roof, guitar now resting on the side and Copia hovering above you, his gaze taking in the sight of you. Gently he took a hold of you hand, pulling the mitten away and bringing your wrist close to his lips, then placing a light kiss on it, making you shudder.

”Could you feed off from me?” you asked, feeling how Copia tensed for a moment.

”Now?” he asked, confused, and you nodded, surprising yourself a bit by that.

”Yes, if you want to.”

Copia stared at you as if he was looking for any signs that could tell you weren’t actually serious. Then he inhaled deeply your scent, your wrist still close to his lips and you could see how tempting your offer had been. Then he shook his head, placing another kiss to your wrist.

”As much I would like to do that, now’s not the right moment,” he said, letting go of your hand, leaning closer and cupping you face. ”I’m not ready for that yet.”

You felt slight disappointment tying its knot within you but this wasn’t all about you or what you wanted. You didn’t want to drive Copia away by being too eager or persistent.

”It’s okay,” you said, offering Copia a reassuring smile. ”I can wait.”

A half-smile passed Copia’s lips as he run his fingers along the side of your face.

”It would hurt no matter how careful I would be. Until the venom kicks in, at least.”

”It can’t be that bad, right?” you sighed, and Copia made a face at that.

”Well, it doesn’t hurt as much as turning into a vampire but it still hurts.”

You pondered his words for a while, trying to imagine different kind of pain levels but of course you couldn’t grasp the reality as you had no idea how it would be. The idea of him biting you, feeding off from you, was still intriguing and you weren’t going to take back your offer.

”Okay, enough of this serious talk…” you said, changing the subject. ”Could we leave now? It’s getting a bit cold.”

Copia was instantly on his feet, extending his hand to you, his usual warm smile returning to his lips.

”Sure, I’ll walk you home.”

taglist: @nijiru

#papa emeritus iv x reader #copia x reader #ghost band fic #ghost band fanfic #jen writes fics

26 notes · View notes

bazilisk · 3 months ago

Text

Disco Elysium is a work of art - the first time a game has helped me explore anything like this

I love Disco Elysium so much. The writing touched me deeply in many ways. I will explain the way it spoke to me the deepest.

Major spoilers for the last quest in the game ahead.

DO NOT READ THE REST OF THIS POST IF YOU HAVE NOT ALREADY FINISHED THE GAME!

I have a background of being first a full new-age believer as a kid, before I became a hardcore skeptic. I also changed from being a major idealist to being mostly a cynic. But I miss having belief in unbelievable things. It was more fun.

As a result. One of my favorite subjects in fiction is the border between fantasy and reality. I love urban fantasy / sci fi where the real world intersects with unbelievable things. Think, Buffy, Dresden Files, X-Files, etc.

When playing the cryptozoologist storyline, I was sweet as honey to Lena, because she is one of the few friendly characters you meet in the game, and I was playing a kindhearted, sorry-cop, feeling-Harry. The skeptical side of me was also amused by the nonsense and logical inconsistencies that her and her husband’s dialogue trees are full of. I played Harry as a reluctant believer – basically, just so he could tell Lena that he tried everything to catch that darn Phasmid.

And besides, maybe wandering around cold saltmarshes looking at traps could take Harry’s mind off of how impossibly boring it is to attempt sobriety.

I thought hard about how supernatural things are portrayed in this game. What are the rules of reality here?

The cursed commercial zone was a total flop.

The dead body talked to Harry, but, maybe Harry is just insane.

There is weird stuff happening with silence in the church, but not that weird.

My Harry did get tons of shivers and Espirit de Corps. But that wasn’t supranatural, maybe that was just a gameplay way of showing the classic detective story concept of hunches.

By the last dream, the Reptilian voice, which had me convinced a supernatural apocalypse was around the corner when it first woke me up on day 1, now sounded like just the withdrawal symptoms of a depressed, drying-up alcoholic.

… What about that phasmid, though? Cuno took the bugs, but we did so much work for it…

My heart broke when, after I had done everything to support her and her husband’s quest for that cryptid that she had seen in her childhood, Lena said the following:

“I’m… in doubt, sweetie. That’s all…It’s a strange feeling… I haven’t really told this to anyone, but… you are a police officer.

Do you ever wonder if some lovely story from your childhood is just that… a story? Or a dream?”

That spoke to me on such a deep level, that it felt like the game was whispering to me, telling me that it understood how hard it was to face sober, skeptical reality, without any lingering belief in wonder and magic. I took a screenshot of it. The only screenshot I took in the game. I sat there for a minute, shaking my head in solidarity with this game character. I thought about the childhood stories I told myself.

I swallowed my bittersweet sadness.

A few questlines later. And what the fuck is that I see in the marshes north of the killer. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT.

THE MOTHERFUCKING PHASMID.

IS MOTHERFUCKING REAL.

Kim and I GET A PHOTO OF IT. IT IS NOT HARRY’S HALUCINATION.

The turnaround from pure skepticism to the magnificent, awe-some visitation floored me. My brain melted out of my skull.

I stood up from my computer and walked around my apartment, exclaiming to my husband, who hasn’t played this game yet, that he has to play this game. I laughed in joy.

For a brief, beautiful moment, I believed in magic again.

That’s the first time a game has helped me explore anything like this.

This game is a work of art.

#disco elysium #disco elysium spoilers #harry and kim #skepticism #belief #video games are art #journal #cw alcoholism #cw unreality #game writing #urban fantasy #detective fiction #game design

7 notes · View notes

theesirenteller · 1 year ago

Text

𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙤𝙢𝙗𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡.

┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ☠ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈

ғᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ⇶ Sons Of Anarchy

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ⇶ Jax Teller

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪɴᴛʀᴇsᴛ ⇶ Bluebell Luanne Buckley (original character)

ᴅᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ⇶ sᴇᴛ ɪɴ sᴇᴀsᴏɴ ᴏɴᴇ; ᴛʜᴇ sᴏɴs ɢᴇᴛ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʙᴜsɪɴᴇss ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ʀᴀɴᴄʜᴇʀ ɴᴀᴍᴇᴅ ʀᴀɴᴅʏ ʙᴜᴄᴋʟᴇʏ; ᴀ ᴍᴀɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ sʟɪᴄᴋ ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜɢʟʏ ᴍᴜsᴛᴀᴄʜᴇ; ʙᴜᴛ ʜɪs ᴄᴀʀɴᴀɢᴇ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴍᴇᴀᴛ ʙᴜsɪɴᴇss ᴘʀᴏᴠᴇs ᴜsᴇғᴜʟ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪᴋᴇʀs. ᴛʜɪɴɢs sᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛʀɪᴄᴋʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ ᴏғ sᴀᴍ ᴄʀᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀ ʟɪᴋɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅs ʀᴀɴᴅʏ's sᴏᴜᴛʜᴇʀɴ ʙᴇʟʟᴇ ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ. sʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴀᴜ ᴊᴀx ᴛᴇʟʟᴇʀ sɪɴᴄᴇ ʜᴇ's ɪɴ ʜɪs ᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛɪᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ғʀᴇsʜʟʏ ᴘᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ ɪɴ.

The Full Fic is being edited then uploaded to A03

┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ☠ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈

The Blue skies of charming seemed a little bluer, the air a little crisper, and the sun shined a little brighter. Church ended faster than Jax expected but he was thankful. He now sat in one of the booths at the back of the clubhouse. His phone was clutched in his hands as he texted away with a boyish smile on his lips. " Hey. " Opie smacked his hands against the table, catching his friend's attention. " You coming with Tig and I to the titty bar? It's free taco Tuesday so Tig's pretty excited," he said.

" Greasy tacos and beer? sounds tempting but nah man, I've got plans. " Jax grinned as he stood up. Before Opie could question him further, The bubbly blonde rushed out of the clubhouse.

Today was Thursday. Which meant it was the one day a week that Jax and Bluebell got to have an afternoon date. And this time it was Jax's turn to pick their date destination. Some Instyle magazine at the gas station he'd passed stated women liked being pampered by their boyfriends. The list was long, stating different ways that a guy could pamper and spoil their girl. One option stood out to him…a salon trip. Jax had been to the salon only a handful of times with his mother and that was when he was a child. Gemma kept the same style at the Charming Salon. He didn't pay much attention to who attended and who didn't. This time around he passed by often and noticed that no one that had Bluebell's hair texture ever attended the salon. The few biracial and black women who went by the salon always came out with straightened hair. No fancy styles or anything he'd seen in Seventeen, AMINA, and Sister to Sister magazines at the gas station on the outskirts of town.

So Jax got creative. He surfed the web and came across a salon called Afrolicious Beauties. The website had ' Black Owned Business since 1961' and had endless amounts of photos of diverse black women with various hair textures and styles. The prices weren't outrageous either. So it didn't take Jax much longer after that to make an appointment for Bell. He loved her curly fro but was curious to see how she would look in a different hairstyle and he hoped she'd enjoy the pampering. The sunkissed biker wasn't sure what to exactly ask for but after a long conversation with a woman named Annie on the opposite end of the line; a deep conditioner and silk press were booked.

Bluebell finished her shift and bid her cousin Duggie goodbye before she sat outside awaiting her boyfriend. She wore a mid-length beige floral dress that had a square-lace embroidered neckline. The flowers on the dress were colored in rose pink with hints of periwinkle, and some touches of melon green. lace trim scattered around the bottom hem of the dress that stopped a few inches above her ankles. The dress had been her mother's and it was one of many that she found in the storage shed. her cowboy boots tapped against the wooden porch floor as she waited. Soon enough the familiar rumbling of a motorcycle engine filled her ears causing a smile to form across her face. Bluebell stood up on her feet and walked off the porch just as Jax rolled up in front of her.

The two smiled at one another like two love-struck fools the moment their eyes met. " Hey there beautiful, you need a ride? " The blonde flirted. His hand extended out.

" I would love to, thank you. " she giggled. her hand grasping onto his own as she got on the back of his bike. Bluebell snuggled his helmet onto her head and locked the clasp shut before wrapping her arms around his waist.

" Oh, Honeybee, you're wearing the shirt! You look so handsome! '' Bluebell gushed from behind him as she hugged him close. A few days prior she'd sewed him a light blue and white flannel that he currently wore. It truly did bring out the vibrancy of the blue in his eyes.

Tilting his head to the side, he had stolen a tender peck from her lips. " Thanks, babe," he replied. Jax loved it and knowing she'd made it special for him made his heart warm. He smiled like a kid on Christmas and waited until their date to wear it.

It felt like they were flying. Jax sped out of charming like a bat out of hell. The route was much different than their usual one and Bluebell sat wide-eyed in the back of him. The sun didn't seem to bother and the air felt like a kiss from god, soft and gentle.

The two soon arrived at a train station. Located by a long railway near the border of the highway eight miles away from Charming. Bluebell's eyes filled with inquisitive eagerness at the sight. A small barn-like area sat a few feet away from it where a handful of cars and bikes were parked. Jax averted his bike in that direction. Parking in Section Seven, spot 2B. A small coin slot machine sat in front of the spot. The farmer girl had gotten off first and Jax followed suit.

" We're taking a train," Bluebell stated. Excitement bounced off her words as she looked up at him.

" Yeah, babe. I told you I'd be taking us on an adventure. " he grinned.

After placing a toll fee of six dollars for three hours, Jax's bike was securely locked in. His arm draped around Bluebell's shoulder as he nuzzled her close to his side. The way walked the short distance to the station. Jax led them to the high platform where a total of eight people were. Bluebell hadn't asked where they were going, she was all for surprises and wanted to enjoy the ride.

" Thanks, Honeybee. '' she smiled. soon placing an adorning kiss on the side of his jaw. During their late-night hangouts and conversations about any and everything, she had mentioned wanting to ride a train. She'd seen the train in the movie Harry Potter once as a child and thought it'd be swell to experience that one day for herself.

" Don't mention it babe. " he hummed. A bashful blush scorched his cheeks as she hugged him tightly. The way she looked at him like he was a knight in shining armor or some prince. It made his throat go dry and the hair at the back of his neck sweatily smacked to his skin.

The loud tooting of the train engine caught the couple's attention and excitement sparkled in both of their eyes as it approached. " Train to Solana Beach approaching the station, please stand away from the platform edge." a robotic voice said through the speakers.

The couple stood close beside each other as the train came to a stop before Bluebell eagerly rushed in. Her hand tugged Jaxs as she went down the aisle. Singular and double seats were on either side of the aisle, painted in blue and cream-colored leather. Once located in the middle cart, a mischievous smile formed across Jax's lips. He swept his arms around her waist and with a swift motion tackled them both into a random double seat. a loud squeak and laugh escaped Bluebell's lips causing a few looks from bypassers to be shot their way.

" One of these days yuh ' gon break me in half Jax. I ain't some rag doll yuh' can mangle around. " Bluebell hissed. A faux upset glare on her face as her hands smacked against his arms. His goofy smile made her mirror him.

He said nothing. His eyes were wide with enlarged dilated pupils. Creases formed at the corner of his lids. Cheeks, ears, and neck kissed with the shade rouge red. The promise that she would be his forever laid within her mocha eyes. No words were needed. Jax nuzzled his nose against the side of her cheek, his rough hands cradled the side of her neck. Bluebell's scent reminded him of the strawberry milkshakes she drank religiously. Soft and airy yet sweet almost like strawberries covered in creamy vanilla with powdered sugar. How she always smelt so good remained a mystery to him. He knew the details of how she loved concocting oil in her kitchen but good lord. his lips pressed gently against the crease of her exposed collarbone.

Jax's acts of adornment made Bluebell's heart flutter. She never felt this feeling of being loved and safe before. Was she living in a fairytale? How had she become a princess? She felt more than a farm girl in his arms. Bluebell felt like the girls she'd seen in sappy afternoon Hallmark movies. Jax gave her a feeling that could only be described as seeing the sun for the first time, that feeling shook her down to her core. She breathed him in. Drank in his affection. Craved the taste of cigarettes and bitter beer on his lips. Needed his heavenly smile and sapphire eyes to settle on her for Bluebell to function properly. This had to be love. Love was pure. Love was unexplainable. Love was strange. Love was invincible. Love was feeling like the only two people in the world. Love wasn't real, it was something that you could touch. It was an emotion that came as easy as breathing. Love felt freeing. And by god Bluebell Buckley felt all of that and more that couldn't be put into words for Jax.

Her warm arms embraced him, wrapped around his shoulders with her chest pressed against his. Tender kisses were stolen from one another. The two only pulled away to laugh or for Jax to show their tickets to the aisle clerk. His arm draped over her dress-covered thighs as they two looked out the window. Ever since he and Bluebell had gotten together Jax had gotten a chance to venture outside of Charming for fun instead of for club business. Girls were hot in every city or town but none compared to his Bell. A Samcrow member from Washington he'd met on the road had no problem gushing about how great his old lady was. Jax remembered the twenty-six-year-old man saying " It's nice to be married. You slutty fuckers are missing out. "

Jax and Bluebell weren't married and despite laughing alongside his brothers, Jax could relate to an extent. Despite not being sure of the future or worrying about it, one thing Jackson knew was that Bluebell would be his old lady. He couldn't imagine marrying anyone else. Who else would make him feel this way? Jax could bet a hundred dollars not even his parents experienced this type of love. Where being touch starved never existed. Never feeling angry and always being happy was all there was.

Twenty minutes later the young couple arrived at Palm Tree Paradise. The city was diverse, families of different ethnicities walked the streets. The scent of different spices and food vibrantly roamed the air. Bluebell grasped Jax's hand as she walked closely beside him with a smile on her lips and wanderlust in her eyes. The pair passed a series of small shops that sold everything from clothing to trinkets to hair accessories and food. Everything was so colorful and pastel. Jax eyed a leather apparel shop as they passed by it. Both men's and women's apparel was displayed and the various cuts and styles caught his attention.

They'd passed by a few more shops before arriving at the hair salon. The display on the outside of the salon was bright purple. Bluebell looked through the shop window before looking up at Jax with a confused expression. " Surprise babe. I booked you a salon appointment. figured some pampering outside of Charming would be fun. " he grinned.

Like a child being given a puppy Bluebell squealed and hugged him " Aww Suga! Thanks, Honeybee. " They both hugged and laughed.

" Don't thank me yet babe. Wait until it's all done. " He replied as he took her hand in his own, going inside.

" This is gonna be so fun. " Bluebell whispered to herself from behind him. She practically hopscotched into the shop.

The place was lively. Various plants scattered around the purple-colored salon. Fancy leather chairs and the speakers played Erykah Badu's On & On, giving the shop a more cozy and tranquil feel to it. The place smelled of Lavender and Sage mixed with the smokey scent of flat irons and floor cleaner. The woman at the front desk was beautiful. Smooth golden brown skin with honey blonde hair, busty and built curvy. She had a phone placed against her ear and smiled at the pair.

" Hi! I'm Bluebell. " Bell greeted cheerfully. Her smile is bright and welcoming. Her accent is heavy.

" I'm Jax, I'm looking for Annie. I booked an appointment for 2;30. " Jax spoke up from beside her.

" I'm Annie. Nice to meet y'all. " The hairstylist smiled. her attention was directed to Bluebell `` Are you from Georgia? Your accent is adorable. "

" I am! Have you been there ma'am? " Bluebell replied. She and Jax followed behind Annie as she led them through the busy shop. Bluebell waved at a few people who stared at them.

" Mhm. I've got family all up and through there. Have a seat, honey. " Annie replied as she patted the salon chair at the washing station.

Jax already felt a bit out of place due to pure boredom. Also, he was thirsty since the ride was long and the drinks on board were overpriced. As Bluebell took a seat, he asked her " Hey Bell you good here? I'm gonna go get a drink and check out this shop I saw. Do you want anything? "

She looked up at him as a black cape was placed over her " Mhm. I'll be alright. Anything sugary be fine, maybe a strawberry milkshake. " she replied.

A smile spread across his lips as the golden-haired biker smiled and swiftly pecked her lips. " Strawberry milkshake got it. text me if you need me," he reassured. When she nodded in agreement he strolled out the shop.

" He's a cutie girl and damn sure seems smitten with you. " Annie commented. " How long y'all been together? " she asked as she began washing Bluebell's thick coils in cool water. Annie started the wash with a rosemary clarifying shampoo and sea salt scalp scrub.

Bluebell closed her eyes and smiled with glee as she began to enjoy the service. " Thank you, ma'am. We've been together for a month and three days. Jax is the cutest boy I ever did see. Cutest in our town. " she said. pride in her voice.

Annie chuckled to herself. Young love was so sweet. " Cutest in town huh? That ain't hard to believe. Where are y'all from anyway? "

" Mhm. We're from Charming. " The moment she said the name, a few women in the shop stopped talking.

" Oh, chile hell no. I heard from my cousin Ricky that them redneck Aryan warriors live there. Them fools are dangerous and love to skin and do all types of fucked up shit to black folks. " An older woman spoke up with a head shake.

" I hope your man is protected girl cause them fools get batshit crazy when they see one of their own with a sista. " Another hairstylist said.

" Oh geez. Well, Jax is well protected. I don't live too deep into town. I live with my uncle and cousin on our ranch. '' Bluebell reassured them. The conversation continued and jumped to various topics. Bluebell was given a deeply nourishing coconut and honey hot oil treatment whilst the ladies all chit-chatted.

Meanwhile, Jax went into the leather shop he'd been eyeing. It was a second-hand rare-find shop. The small space was filled to the brim with various pieces and a lot of them reminded him of jackets and vests his dad owned. A particular jacket caught his eye. It was black with a glossed shine of midnight blue with skull patches, a lucky 18 patch, and a 'skull's island forever' engravement on the back. Jax was sure this was the exact jacket his father John owned before he died. Six months before to be exact.

" That one's forty bucks. ten percent off if you buy a second jacket. '' the shop owner said from behind him.

Jax turned around with the jacket in hand and faced the man who looked to be in his sixties. " Where'd you get it from? " Jax asked.

" Somewhere in Ireland a few months ago. This chick I was shacking up with had a ton of pieces like that she got rid of. " The elderly man informed him.

Jax sucked in a breath as he nodded. " I'll take it." he agreed. '` Where are your women's jackets? " He was soon directed to a rack a few feet away. The bright pastel colors or tacky writing like 'Sex on legs' writing on the back of the jackets made him want to vomit. He kept swiping through the racks until one in particular caught his eye.

'Total badass' Jax thought to himself as he picked it up. Cropped, midnight black genuine leather with customized silver bullet-shaped studs covering the whole exterior. Bigger spikes stuck out of the wrist and shoulder area. It was fairly small and the size inside read ' medium '. It may fit slightly oversized on Bluebell but Jax was positive it was made for her. His girl would be the hottest babe in Charming riding out the back of his bike with a jacket like that. Excitement bubbled within him as he nearly drooled imagining her in nothing but it on and maybe her cowgirl boots. He quickly brought both to the front counter.

" Ah, nice choice. " The owner commented. " Eighty bucks kid," he added.

Jax dropped four twenty dollar bills onto the counter with a smirk " Pleasure doing business with you. '' Once the items were bagged, Jax collected them and left. He walked along the boardwalk searching for an ice cream place but stumbled across a bar instead. Sending a handsome smile to a few blondes that smiled his way, he entered the bar. It was a small place that looked like a cramped cabana. people his and Bluebell's age all hand beers and fruity-looking drinks in hand.

He took a seat at the bar and ordered himself a beer. His ocean-blue eyes fell to the menu that was tapped to the counter. a drink called ' Blueberry Blaster' stood out to him. It consisted of cream soda, rum, blue Curacao, and blueberry syrup with vanilla soft serve on top with pineapple pieces. Sounded super sugary and Jax was sure Bluebell would like it.

When the bartender who looked no older than twenty-five slid Jax the beer, Jax ordered two of the Blueberry Blasters to go. A busty bleach-blonde babe with orange-tanned skin soon sat beside him as he took his first sip. " Haven't seen you around here before. You're a sight for sore eyes. '' she purred with a low raspy voice.

As Jax turned his attention towards her, the blonde slipped her wide-framed pink shades onto her head. Her natural pale skin circled her eye area which badly contrasted the orange tone of her tan. Shimmery red lipstick on her lips.

" Wish I could say the same. " He replied as he stood up from his stool. His drinks were brought to him packaged in a cardboard carrier. Jax slipped his total of twenty bucks onto the counter. Smiling at the blonde who shot him an icy glare before he left.

Jax prayed Bluebell was done or near done. He hated the smell of burning irons. His mother's flat iron stuck up in the bathroom often. He set the carrier on a bench a few stops away from the salon and took a seat. The eighteen-year-old enjoyed his beer as he watched the ocean waves. The chilled beverage quenched his thirst as Jax thought of how cool it'd be to live on the beach and enjoy beers like this while working on his bike. Then later on when the sun would go down he and Bluebell would enjoy dinner on some patio somewhere nice. ' a man can dream ' he sighed to himself, finishing his beer in two more gulps. His phone vibrated in his pocket and once he fished it out he read over a few texts. two from Gemma telling him to not forget to bring home salsa and guac. one from Opie asking what he was doing and the latest one was Bluebell telling him she was done.

Jax swaggered his way to the salon and once going inside Annie greeted him first at the front counter. " She's in the restroom. " Annie informed.

" Thanks. " He smiled before paying the tab.

"Honey Bee!" He was caught off guard by tightly being hugged from the side by his bubbly babe. Jax turned and returned the hug before taking a step back. It was then he stopped breathing. His sapphire eyes grew wide and his mouth gasped as he eyed her. Bluebell looked like an absolute bombshell! Her dark brown almost black colored hair was blown out in layers that stopped at the middle of her arms, just above her elbows. The fluffy full waves framed her baby face and Jax thought he'd pass out right there. Abruptly Jax picked her up with his arms wrapped around her thighs as his lips crashed into hers. Bluebell released a giggle against his lips as the women around them awed and some clapped. Her hands cupped his face as their lips moved against one another sweetly… Jax's lips caressed hers with a meaningful peck as he carefully set her down " You look like an angel Bell. " he complimented. His words are adorned with tenderness. " No need to give me a heart attack. Jax joked earning a smack to his arm.

" Here you go bein full of cow poop again. '' Bluebell giggled. " Thanks, baby. " she expressed it genuinely. Bluebell waved goodbye to everyone and promised to come by and see them again before she and Jax left.

His arm was around her shoulder as he walked proudly beside her. " These look yummy! " Bluebell commented as she held their drinks. Jax led her to the bench he once occupied and Bell sat on his lap. " What are they ? " she asked.

" They're called Blueberry Blasters. They've got vanilla ice cream, pineapple bits, blueberry syrup, and uh…" He paused before finishing. " They've got liquor. Remember those wine coolers we tried last week? '' When she nodded he proceeded, " Something like that but a little stronger babe. "

Bluebell had only drunk once before and those were merely coolers after a late-night trip to Dairy Queen. They tasted good but were a little strong and made her feel all hot on the inside. These looked much more tasty. " Okay. '' As long as Jax was by her side, the farmer girl felt confident and open to try new things like this. Popping open the plastic spoon-straw contraption from its wrapper, she took one of the drinks into her hands. Jax watched as Bluebell sipped slowly. Her pupils expanded as the sugary sweet beverage went down her throat. Sweet, and fruity, and the bitterness of the alcohol was barely there. Masked by a sprite-like fizzle effect. " It's so good. '' she smiled as soon as she pulled her lips from the straw. Bluebell followed it up with spoonfuls of the soft serve. Jax chuckled in response before Bluebell shared hers with him. And even he could admit it was good. The pair got back on the train just before the sun was ready to set. Cuddled up in each other's arms with gleeful smiles plastered across their lips.

#theesirenteller fanfic #theesirentellerstories #jax teller fics #jax teller x blk!oc #Jax Teller x Bluebell Buckley #Jax Teller x Bluebell Teller #Jax Teller; Little Miss Dairy Queen

45 notes · View notes

hannahssimblr · 11 months ago

Text

Chapter Twenty-Three

Evie, what do you think of the article in the Tullamore Tribune? Have sent it to you via text message. Big news here at home. Must speak to Caroline soon. Saw Jackie Doyle’s husband at the butcher with a cast on his leg this morning, says he had the foot reversed over outside his house. Ouch! Love mam.

Mam, did you send a link to the article or a photo of the paper? Either way neither has sent. It’s probably too many megabytes, don’t worry about it. I’ll chat to you about it when I’m home next.

“Texting your other boyfriend?” Jude says casually, his back to me as he zips himself into the only pair of trousers he brought on holidays.

“It’s my mother, she’s obsessed with some article she saw in the local paper, I don’t know what it is, probably that the parish priest has died or something, God knows, but the article hasn’t sent.”

“You could ask her to email it maybe?”

“Ugh, it’s not even worth it, the computer at home is barely usable and I’d have to use all my roaming minutes to coach her through that process. I’ve already tried to tell her that texting is expensive.”

He puts his shoes on, “Does she know you’re in Cyprus?”

I pause, “I can’t remember. You can turn around now,” I smooth out the lightweight linen of my new dress, “What do you think?”

Jude pretends to pass out, collapses onto his bed and then slides onto the floor, “Evie,” He groans, “You’re a babe.”

“Get up, you clown,” I snicker, “Why are you always so dramatic?”

“Where did you get that?”

“The market in Paphos.”

“Do a spin for me,” I do, and he clutches his heart and rolls over onto his front.

“Get up! You’ll get dust all over your clothes.”

“You’re right, my only nice clothes too,” He pulls a hair, probably mine, off the front of his shirt, “Something with buttons on it, imagine. I bet you didn’t think I had threads like this.”

“I like it, you look smart. You should wear more shirts with buttons.”

“I would only my fat fingers always fumble them,” I glance at his hands, the most nimble, dexterous and beautiful hands I’ve ever seen on a man and roll my eyes, “Alright, get up, we have to leave now.” I head for the door while he scrambles across the floor to grab a hold of my waist to stop me, “Wait, let me have another look at you.”

“You have a whole evening to look at me,” I protest, hoping my voice doesn’t give away the fact that my entire body is prickling from that look in his eyes, and how much I like seeing him on his knees in front of me. “Come on, we don’t want to keep the guys waiting.”

He tightens his fingers around me, and with a kiss to my belly, says “Here’s to a great last night in Cyprus.”

The restaurant that Claire booked is spectacular. Located in the ruin of an old church, it showcases a perfect, uninterrupted view of the Mediterranean Sea. Aphrodite’s Rock is highlighted perfectly by the setting sun, and the full moon behind it appears enormous as it rises from the glittering horizon.

We cheers with our wine glasses when our drinks arrive, and all of us, tanned, gorgeous and tired, look out over the beach and take languid sips of our drinks. Nobody has called me out on the fact that I swore I wouldn’t order wine and then did anyway when I realised I’d be the only one not having something to drink.

“Claire,” Jude says, ankle to knee, one arm draped over the back of my seat. “Why is it that your parents had a house out here the whole time, and you still decided to spend a summer in Shane Healy’s mobile home?”

She laughs, “Because I was seventeen, and the idea of being on holidays with my parents was really embarrassing,” a waiter brings our food over and places it down in front of us, “I thought it’d have been a bit more craic to be with my friends instead, and like, yeah obviously it wasn’t the most glamorous holiday I ever had, but I still had a good time.”

“She made the right choice,” Shane says, placing a hand around her shoulder.

Jude grins, “And this is the first time you’ve had friends here?”

“Yeah, actually it is.”

“Well, hopefully not the last.”

“Agreed,” I say enthusiastically, “Let’s do this every year, this has been just amazing from start to finish.”

Claire smiles and quickly picks up her fork. “Let’s eat, will we?”

The food is amazing. I have scallops and Jude has Monkfish, but we end up sharing with each other like we usually do, with me putting half of my food onto his plate and him putting half of his onto mine. I try some of Claire’s linguine too, and even a little bit of Shane’s steak despite the fact that he’s not entirely on board with the idea of sharing, as usual. The conversation is so good, it flows as easily as our drinks, and just like at the very best times with friends, everything is easy. I laugh when Claire drops a ribbon of pasta onto her lap, at the face that Shane makes when I hold out the bottle of wine to him and he says “Go on, you’ve talked me into it,” and as the evening settles down and the full moon rises in the sky I’m filled with a rare kind of contentment, like absolutely everything is alright in the world.

“It’s so sad that we’re leaving tomorrow,” Claire laments as our empty dishes are cleared away, “It’s just been so nice to be with all of ye and have a little bit of time away from college and all of that, you know, like you don’t actually get these kinds of breaks very often.”

“True,” I say, “But there’ll be so many more, this is really just the start of it now, I can just feel it.”

“Yes…” she says, and she looks down into her lap. Her lips part as though she wants to say more, but then she doesn’t. I watch her exchange something unspoken with Shane, and as he adjusts himself uncomfortably in his seat the very first seeds of uncertainty settle in my guts. “What?” I say, “Was that awkward of me to say? I didn’t meant to imply that I expect you to put us up in Cyprus every year or something, no, I just meant like-”

“No, it’s fine, Evie. I wasn’t thinking that,” says Claire, “It’s just, like…” She trails off.

“We wanted to invite you on holidays with us because we have to tell you something important,” Shane says. “Something that’s good, like. It’s not bad news at all, it’s just…”

“What-”

“Shane’s been scouted,” Claire blurts out, “By the AFL. They like the way he plays football, so they want him to go play professionally, like.”

I’m already out of my seat and reaching over the table to hug him before the last words have left Claire’s mouth, “Oh God, Shane!” I cry, “That’s amazing, I’m thrilled for you, what the hell, that’s like the best case scenario, you must be so happy,”

“I am, yeah,” He says with a big awkward pat on my back, “Sure it’s good news.”

“It’s amazing news, wow, you kept that one quiet.”

“Well we weren’t really allowed to talk about it until it was fully confirmed,” Claire explains, “You know, just in case anything fell through at the last minute, but like, yeah, at this point it’s fully confirmed, it’s happening.”

“Wow, oh my God, I’m stunned, I just-”

“Hang on a second,” Jude says, “Just to confirm, the AFL? So you’re moving?”

I look at him and then to them and back again, “Moving?”

“Yeah,” Claire says, and tears suddenly spring into her eyes, “To Sydney.”

“Australia?” It’s quiet for several moments after the word leaves my mouth, and nobody even says yeah obviously, Evie, what other Sydney is there? You dope. My hands start to tremble.

“Yeah,” Shane speaks carefully like he’s afraid to spook me, “Oz, like. We’re going in September.”

“Four months?” I cry, “That’s all we have left, four months? What am I going to do when you’re gone? That’s crazy, guys, it’s so far, you can’t just go.”

“Evie, it’s his one chance to do this, we have to try.”

“I’m finishing my degree, I’ll be qualified so I’ve a backup plan, but like, I’ll spend a few years trying to get the football thing going, and if it doesn’t work out that’s fine, I just really need to give it a go.”

“A few years is a long time.”

Claire grabs my hand, and I suddenly feel like a toddler who is throwing a tantrum and needs to be managed. “We’ll be back all the time, for Christmas and different things, and you can always come out and stay with us.”

My lip is trembling, and I realise that she is crying, so I cry too, and let tears careen down my face while the waiter comes back with dessert menus and awkwardly places them in front of us. “It’s good, Evie. This is what we want.”

“But your degree,” I whimper, “Aren’t you going to finish it?”

She laughs thickly, “I couldn’t give two shits about my degree, chick. I’m only in college because my dad paid the fees for it, I’m useless.”

“But-”

“I’m just doing what I’m supposed to be doing, this is what I want, and yeah, I’m sad that I’ll be leaving Ireland but I find it exciting too at the same time. Sure we’re only young, there’s loads of time to try things out,”

“No, I’m happy,” I mop tears from my cheeks, the napkin coming away glittery. “Obviously, I’m really happy, this is amazing…”

“Amazing,” Jude echoes.

“…I’ll just miss you both so much.”

“We’ll miss you too.”

“I never imagined that this would happen.”

“Me neither,” Shane says, “I never thought that the AFL would want me, honestly.”

“Oh of course they would,” I throw my eyes skyward, “Shane Healy, extraordinaire. The most talented man on earth.”

“Dunno about that, now.”

I try to smile, but I end up grimacing hideously instead, teeth clenched, eyes overflowing with tears, “What will I do without you?”

“You’ll be grand, you don’t really need us,”

I don’t think either of them realises how much I do. Who will I confide things in? Who will give me advice that’s hard to hear? Who will take me to doctor’s appointments, force me to get in shape, cook dinner with me, braid my hair, tell me I’m doing alright when I feel like I could fall apart at any minute?

Jude strokes his thumb over my knee beneath the table, “It’s bittersweet, you know? I’m happy for you, Shane.”

“Thanks man,”

“Let’s focus on the time we have left. We have a whole summer before you guys leave, and I really think we can make the most of it, and look,” he turns to me, “We can visit Australia, I’ll take you there, yeah, the flight is long but it’s worth it. It’s amazing, you’ll love it, actually, you’ll all love it. This is something to really look forward to.”

I understand that he’s being optimistic, as usual, but a little toxic part of me wishes that he wouldn’t be, that he’d say something about how it’s too hot in Australia, how the spiders are as big as cats and the food is disgusting just so there’s a chance that Claire and Shane might stay, but I know it’s far too late for that kind of thing.

“It’s so great,” I say through my teeth, “It’s a big change, but it’s just amazing.”

Claire smiles at me tearfully from across the table. “I know,” She mouths.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying so much,” I fan my face as though it’s actually going to achieve something, to dry even a friction of the torrent of moisture on my face. With every blink I feel my mascara transferring onto my lower lids. “I think I just need some air.”

“We’re already outside,” Shane points out, and Claire thumps him on the arm, “That’s not what she means. Go on down to the beach for a walk, Evie, it’s fine. We can just finish up here, and you can text us when you’re feeling a little bit better.”

I get up from my seat, “Okay, I’ll just… I’ll just go down there now, I’ll be fine. I’m delighted, really, it’s just a surprise is all, I’m grand.”

“We know, it’s okay.”

“Wow, what big news,” I try to laugh at myself but the sound that comes out of me is more like a wet rattle. “Fab.” I partially shove my way through other diners to get out of the restaurant, absolutely loathing myself for having such an intense reaction. I wonder what is wrong with me during the whole walk down the sandy bank and towards the beach, and I hate myself even more as I face the sea and hack out one huge, outrageous and unjustified sob.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky girl part 3 #a lot happening in this chapter tbh

17 notes · View notes

peppermint-rat · 1 year ago

Text

I just realized it's officially been ten years since I properly left the mormon church. I don't remember the specific date because it was kind of a "I haven't believed any of this for a while why am I still going" but it did happen in 2013.

Escape-the-cult story time?

So, as I can with a few great things in my life, I can trace it back to a silly little comic series I started sort of by accident. It was about Left 4 Dead, specifically about me just barely escaping death by befriending the infected in cartoonish ways. It kind of really blew up unexpectedly. Suddenly I had an audience. I started doing livestreams and made close friends with many of the viewers.

Were those viewers also mormon? You can bet your ass they weren't. There was a good mix of queerness and transness in there. But everyone was still respectful of my mormon boundaries (kept swearing and really dirty talk to a minimum) so I found it really easy to be respectful back. Suddenly I was friends with a lot of people that the church told me would infect me with their wickedness if I tolerated them for too long. But you know what? Spending time with people different than you, seeing that they're just another human, seeing that they can become valuable people in your life even with the traits you're told to fear, it's very hard to keep thinking of them as wicked. At that point, you have to actively choose to sever these relationships that are making you happy and hammer that prejudice back into your head. And a lot of people do that! But I felt SO happy and SO loved, I just couldn't do it.

And all along in the background, my sister lived in Germany at the time and had a lot of time away from the church. This gave her space to read up on the ACTUAL history of the church and Joe Smith... and she was discussing her findings with me. I didn't really want to believe them, but it got harder and harder to explain things away.

Feeling relaxed around my non-member friends, I start joking like "Isn't it weird that I'm straight but I still get crushes on female characters?" And no one really rushes me to admit I'm queer, but they get really excited when I draw "joke art" of myself with those characters. And after a while, the joke wears off. I admit that these images of me with a woman give me happy fluttery feelings. But then my boyfriend at the time and my judgmental church friend and my other sister sees this, and they Don't Like It. But somehow, I don't end up feeling bad about myself - I feel disappointed that these people would judge me for loving this side of myself. I apologized/asked them not to tell anyone but inside went "You know what, I'm gonna start dating her even harder."

Started having/drawing lots more queer ships. Was pretty open about my fictional gay crushes. Flirted with my non-member female friends as much as I did my mormon friends, but they could actually flirt back which got me all flustered. And I loved it. I was worried about being queer in the church, but I wasn't worried about my soul. Letting myself be queer brought so much joy and love into my life, it couldn't have been evil.

Besides, it wasn't like I was gonna go out and have a queer relationship. It was all theoretical, right? Which is fine in the church. Hahaha.

Through a friend I made in my streams, I met someone who lived across the street from me. I knew of them, we were in the same graphics class in high school, and we were facebook friends. And I would look at photos of them and think "Man, that's the most beautiful person I've ever seen." But like. Totally not in a gay way, right? I won't be completely smitten with them when we start hanging out, right? Hahaha?

Nope. Instantly head over heels.

I came out as pansexual to everyone I knew. My mom thought it meant I was attracted to inanimate objects. My boyfriend (who looked at porn constantly and dismissed my insecurities about it) got upset because if I figured this out I must have felt attraction to another person, real or fictional (he got upset when he saw a totally sfw drawing of a pretty Homestuck troll in my tumblr likes). My dad said "I guess temple marriage isn't a priority for you anymore", and when I said "I never thought you would say that to me" he said "Neither did I, but here we are." Again, people taking issue with a thing I knew to be wonderful.

My parents sort of came around, at least to the point that they would not give me direct grief for being in a queer relationship. I broke up with my boyfriend (actually because I accepted that he was never going to join the church and we weren't even really friends, so what was the point). I was briefly in a relationship with a transmasc friend because I didn't feel like I could say no, but it's worth mentioning because since they were also Christian, I thought I could be with them and stay in the church, but when I realized that the church would never accept them into the priesthood because they're trans, it was a huge blow to my faith. Yet another "What am I even doing this for if I don't believe in it?"

We broke up because I was still in love with the person across the street. But here's where the shelf broke, so to speak, on my faith. I knew this person liked me too, but I was afraid to be with them, not only because it would be a queer relationship, but because they were a non-member and didn't uphold church standards, which I'd kind of just broken up with my boyfriend for. Remember that judgmental mormon friend I mentioned? I remember venting to her about this over Facebook IM, crying because I wanted to be with this person so badly, but how could it possibly work out? And she said, "It can't. :("

Oh. Ohhh. How fucking dare you.

It can't? Why? Because the church said so, and obviously nothing in life, not even my own happiness, is as important as obeying the church? I swore a blood oath to sacrifice all my happiness to the church or else I would burst into flames? This girl was big on the mormons-policing-mormons thing. Here I am in pain over wanting someone I felt I couldn't have, and she feels that the most important thing to do is make sure I don't entertain further temptation to disobey the church. That's the issue here - your friend is having gay feelings and they need to remember that's not okay.

Ha ha ha ha ha! Fuck you!

My sister and I decided to tell our mom together that we would not go to church anymore. My sister posted about it on Facebook, and our piece of shit brother (12 yrs my senior, would have been 31 at the time) said "Congratulations, I'm sure your parents are really proud of you." Because he's incapable of saying anything not horrendous.

I started dating the person across the street. And the relationship that "couldn't" happen has been going on for ten years now. Still completely head over heels.

Sssssuck on that!!

In short, yes, having lots of non-member friends can and will lead you away from the church, but not with their wickedness. They will show you how wrong you were for thinking that they were wicked, and by extension, how wrong the church is. And if you pull one thread, the whole thing comes apart.

#exmo #exmormon #long post

18 notes · View notes

nerdygaymormon · 2 years ago

Text

Affirmation Conference 2023

I traveled to Provo, Utah for the 2023 edition of Affirmation’s International Conference.

————————————————————

I arrived on Thursday and had lunch at Crown Burgers (I had a pastrami burger) with friends of mine who live in Eagle Mountain, Utah. I’ve known them for a long time, they used to live in Florida. Aaron and Sara are really wonderful. Aaron’s twin brother is gay and this has opened their eyes and they see the many issues the LDS Church has for queer people.

Sara volunteers at the Encircle House in Provo. They’d like to do more to support queer people who are/were LDS. They’d like to open their home to have regular get togethers where queer LDS people and their family & friends can gather to feel loved and supported. If you’re interested, contact me and I’ll put you in touch.

—————————

Thursday evening was a social held at the Encircle House in Salt Lake City. I was an hour late and when I arrived, I was informed a group had come asking for David and I wasn’t there. The President of Affirmation got very concerned, wondering if there’d been a problem with my flight, was I okay, would I be on hand for the 2 sessions I’m supposed to do at the conference on Saturday. I’m very sorry to have missed those who came to meet me and I didn’t intend to make anyone worry. Sometimes things don’t go according to plans.

I did meet @jacclo and really appreciate that he came and waited. I felt like we had a good conversation and that I learned more about him and his journey. Honestly, getting to meet and connect with other queer Mormons is one of the greatest things.

My favorite room in the Salt Lake City Encircle House is the music room. They have filled the wall with black & white photos of famous queer people. I find seeing all that queer greatness very moving.

They also have a black sheep in the room, which is such a good symbol of how a lot of queer people feel their role is in their family. The Provo Encircle House also has a black sheep, I wonder if this is something they put in every one of their homes

When you walk in the house, the door swings open and you don’t see the hidden message until you’re ready to leave and open the door from the inside and see the words painted on the inside edge.

————————————————————

Friday I spent much of the day in Board meetings and in trainings. That was a new experience for me as a new member of the Affirmation Board of Directors.

Lacey Bagley, the founder of Celebrate Therapy, is on the board and in our meeting she said something that struck me. I sometimes hear people complain that in the LDS Church it is cis gay white men who are seen and heard and who dominate the conversation. Lacey reframed this by calling them the Founding Fathers of the LDS LGBTQ space because they were able to break through the silence and bring visibility and some understanding. They were the most palatable to the wider community and thus were the ones who were listened to. AFAB women and gender nonconforming people are now having a moment and this opportunity has come thanks to the door being opened by those Founding Fathers.

—————————

Then I went to the Provo Encircle House for a social. I met some very cool people and learned things about the house, including that it was originally home to a polygamous family. My favorite room was the meeting room on the 2nd floor. The walls feature black & white pictures of teens & young adults who came to the house during its first week of being open. Seeing the very people who are helped by this house really touched me. Plus, the window with the rainbow colors frames the Provo City Center Temple in a beautiful way.

The outside of the home is beautiful and I learned the landscaping is done so that there is always something in bloom no matter the season.

—————————

Friday concluded with dinner and the opening plenary session of the Affirmation Conference. Álvaro Mora was the speaker and the big take away from his remarks was that no one is going to die for you so don’t live your life for others, live life and live it for yourself.

———————————————————

On Saturday, the conference had 4 rounds of break out sessions. You could choose the sessions and groups that most interested you. I was in charge of 2 of the sessions. The first one was called Navigating Living Waters, and the second one was about building community for LGBTQ members in our churches. I was happy to meet @raspberryusagi when she attended one of my sessions.

In the evening Tekulvē Jackson-Vann spoke about how people often say they don’t see color, and how that feels so invalidating. It’s the same as if someone were to say they don’t see queerness, instead they see everyone as just the same. It’s a way to avoid uncomfortable conversations. If you can’t see all of me, you get a muted version of me. Can you imagine watching the Barbie move in black & white, you’d miss so much!

Tekulvē ended by asking a series of questions, for which a person of color gives mostly the same answer and white people have a different answer for each question: What color were you when you were born? What color are you when you’re hit hard? What color are you when you’re sick? What color are you when you’re cold? What color are you when you’re dead? And yet, I’m the one who is ‘colored.’

Laurie Lee Hall also spoke and the big message I took is “Live a life that leaves a mark that cannot be erased!”

—————————

Saturday night, @loveerran and I went for ice cream at Leatherby’s in Orem, Utah. Their serving sizes are generous. We met @sky-the-trans-guy00 and had a very good conversation. I learned some more about him. He is a high-quality individual

————————————————————

On Sunday, Stacey Harkey was the keynote speaker at the plenary session and he is very entertaining. He followed his remarks by doing a Q&A in which he was open and vulnerable.

He spoke of a dung beetle and how it is conditioned to roll dung, and will never roll a precious gem. Likewise, we are surrounded by people who have been conditioned to prize the dung, and that may cause you to wish to be dung, but you are not. Don’t be ashamed to be you. A gem is valuable because it is uncommon.

The main points of his remarks were: Be who you are! (you have to explore & discover who you are) Live who you are! (as you come to understand yourself, start living true to you) Own who you are! (you don’t need to apologize for being you, you get to be you and be proud of who you are)

—————————

After the conference, I have extended family who hosted dinner for me and some of my friends. Being surrounded by friends and family in a space that is warm, loving and supportive was a great way to end my trip.

#Affirmation #highlights from the conference and my trip #Álvaro Mora #Tekulvē Jackson-Vann #stacey harkey #long post

25 notes · View notes

darkangel1791 · 1 year ago

Text

youtube

Have you seen the places in the Vampire Chronicles and other AR books? Did you know you could do it from the comfort of your own blanket burrito? Then check out this video!

I just want to mention a few things that the tour guide doesn't.

Saint Elizabeth's is the place where Lestat laid at the end of Memnoch the Devil.

This tour didn't hit the church that is mentioned most often in regard to Louis and Lestat, the St. Louis Cathedral, 615 Pere Antoine. It is in Jackson Square in the French Quarter. It's the oldest cathedral in North America, built in 1720 so that is the church that most Catholics in New Orleans would have attended for many years, and it's age is why Louis and Lestat were there often, because it was the only one around, and once they are in the 20th century, it has memories. St. Louis Cathedral is sort of open to the public as there are tours there. These are to show you the beautiful artwork, the sculpture, and the history of the building. It is also open for Mass (church services, for thise not familiar with Catholic vernacular), but if you go for Mass, you should sit in a pew and pay attention to the Mass. You are with the congregation who attend every week, this is their church, not a setting from a novel or the set of a television show. If you join a tour however, you can wander a bit, so long as you do not disrupt the rest of the tour. Do not attempt to go up to the altar. That is a sacred space to Catholics, only the priest and others participating in the presentation of the Mass (deacons, readers, acolytes, altar helpers) are allowed there. It would be deeply disturbing to the tour guide and other Catholics on the tour if you would attempt to do this. The Cathedral has it's own website with mass times and some photos of the interior artwork.

Lafayette Cemetery is not owned by the diocese of New Orleans. Professional filming is allowed there. The scenes from the 1994 movie were filmed there. There are tours there which might point out the exact places. But the cemetery mentioned most in the book is St. Louis no. 1. It is the oldest cemetery still in existence in New Orleans. There are cemetery tours which will take you there and show you around. It is open to the public, but I would strongly advise you to go with a tour. The cemetery is large, old, not set out in straight lines, an the tombs are so tall that you cannot look across the cemetery to see the entrance. It is a maze that makes no sense. You will get lost. Probably you will eventually find your way out, but it could be hours, and there will be few, if any, other people in the cemetery who can help you out. Also, at least in the 90s and I assume still today, both Saint Louis No. 1 and No. 2 are popular places for drug deals and other crime, specifically because of the the arrangement of the tombs which makes it easy to go unseen by anyone, especially police. They will purposely stay away from the tours, so that is the safest way for you to see the cemeteries. The cemeteries are not open at night. It is probably fairly easy to find a way in, but it is ten times more dangerous at night. I get the aesthetic, but don't do it.

The First Street house is the most famous as Anne Rice's house. The Garden District Book Shop used to sell t-shirts with the house on them. It is where not only the family, but the real life Mojo lived! It is also the family home of the Mayfair clan, every witch has lived there.

This is much longer than I thought it would be! Sorry for being so preachy about the Cathedral and the cemeteries!

#Youtube #anne rice #new orleans #vampire chronicles #the vampire chronicles #tvc #mayfair witches

10 notes · View notes

fuckinuhhh · 2 years ago

Text

Architectural Finds, 06/25/2023

Today's walk was short, I was just going in to DoBro to get some things from target but of course I had to stop and take some pictures along the way. Here are some architectural highlights from the walk there.

First were these row-houses along Fulton St, and this cool corner window aspect that the end house had.

Built 1882.

Located at 664-674 Fulton St, these seemed like they were all the same architect save for the third house in at 668 which looked like it been rebuilt at some point or maybe covered with a brick facade.

You can see some of the rusting from the old Cast-Iron facade that was cutting edge technology in the day in the second picture.

Another row of houses that caught my eye were this row of brownstones with their beautiful ornamentation around the door frames. This is right around the corner at 109-117 S Elliot Pl.

I have no way of knowing if they were all built by the same owners originally as I cant seem to find any records for them online :/, but they were likely built around the turn of the last century 1890-1910 when this style of building was commonly constructed. It was likely that they were built by separate owners/architects, as their ornamental stone decorations aren't all exactly the same.

Moving on, A CHURCH! That's right I love a good ornate church and this one surely delivered. Just look at that gothic stone articulation above the entrance! Its so organic looking, it sends shivers down my spine just looking at it and I want to sink my teeth into it all in one.

Built in 1931 to the tune of the Hanson Place Central United Methodist Church, and today it sits abandoned, boarded up, and full of black mold.

The overall shape of the building is so interesting it has so much going on with its MASSIVE brick pillar motifs, likely intended to vertically gesture up toward the creator.

One source describes it as "Gothic restyled in modern dress, an exercise in massing brick and tan terracotta that might be called cubistic Art Moderne."

Someone with more theological architectural background could go further in depth than I can on it I'm sure, but it's always exciting to see the passionate attention to detail that a good cathedral has in it's architecture.

Next I don't know if I love this one but I just wanted to shout it out as having a BIG clock face! Like that thing is so high upppp it must be 100 feet in diameter!

Without even looking it up I'm going to take a shot in the dark and say this is maybe Brooklyn City Hall, or another government building??? It resembles the thing they're doing in all of the governing buildings I've seen up in Albany.

I don't particularly like this architectural style its boring and chunky in my opinion, but I have to say its not the ugliest thing I've seen. I respect the sense of radial symmetry its upper terraces and flanks suggest, and cmon you cant knock that clock.

(update: it's a bank building)

Second to last, we have this red & black beauty. Love the Greek-Revival pediments on each wing of the building as well as the renaissance revival inclusions in the carved cords/ribbons hanging in between the pilasters.

After some research, this seems to be an old Schoolhouse built in 1892 that has unfortunately since been absorbed by the ultra-modern townhouse on the end of the street at 81 Hanson Pl and transformed into a massive painting studio/home by painter David Salle. Wish I could find more info on the original schoolhouse tho :/

(Second photo ripped from google images)

HONORABLE MENTION: Caught this Mansard Roof moment on my way into the subway station and oof, tug at my heartstrings this is cute.

Across the street from the dream studio/abomination this guy sits pretty at 83 Hanson Pl and is the only brownstone on the block with a cute hat (mansard roof).

14 notes · View notes

amanita-the-spore-druid · 9 months ago

Text

Dear Amy, a short Science Fiction Story

Dear Amy,

I’m so sorry about your mom, we knew we had a few months left so I talked with her. There’s this company called MichMan, and they used all these video interviews she did with them to make this little device. It’s like an Alexa, but it talks like your mom with AI. I know you needed more time Amy, this is the time.

Sincerest regards, Eric.

I open the box, and read the note. The device was white plastic, perfectly polished and smooth, a small glassy-clear dome at the top with a miniature projector. Perfectly manufactured, mass-built to be clean and unphasing to the eyes; and so goddamn disgusting.

Regardless, I set it up according to the instructions and turn it on. From the dome came out a crystal clear projection of my mo- no. No. Not my mom, its not my mom. It tried to talk to me.

“Amy sweetie its so good to see you!” I teared up as I heard my mom’s voice, as perfect as when I last heard it. And that smile as she talked, it was the same smile.

“Oh I've missed you so much A-” “Shut up.”

“Amy! That is no way to speak to-”

“SHUT UP!” I shouted as I struck the machine, causing the cord to unplug from the outlet just a little bit. She was crying. The video glitched, and her voice cut in and out, as she cried for help. She made expressions, true fear, that’s what it was.

I’d never seen my mom make that face. Maybe it was mom. Nothing could fake that, right? The way her eyes teared, she flinched; and shivered. Like there was flesh behind the light, no AI could recreate that.

“Mom?” I called out to the kitchen from the living room later that night, “Yes sweetie?” it responded. “Do you remember that old baked chicken recipe? That started making af-”

“After your father left, yes I remember.” She smiled again; her weak, tender, and reassuring voice. I looked her in the eyes, atleast where they should be. The little tiny particles of blue light were just glaring enough to make up, and I couldn’t see that human glow in a live woman’s eyes. But why bother, I was cooking with my mom.

I made myself baked chicken and moved the Michman to the living room. “What did I say about eating on the couch sweetie?” I considered just unplugging it and eating, but instead, I turned the TV on and just stuck my tongue at her.

It looked like the projection was ‘sitting down’, watching the old western I put on. “Remember watching these after dinner at Popo’s house?” I- she asked me, “Every Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter.” I laughed.

“You weren’t there.” I told her, “Yes I was sweetie! Just last year, you bought your little co-” “You weren’t there!”

We sat silent but the sound of the mildly fried audio of gunshots.

“You’re dead…”

Things have been continuing like this for the past few days. We talk, we get along, and then she starts talking like she’s alive. Like she’s real. No matter how expressive she gets, I can’t see it; I can’t see her humanity, my mother, my real mother is dead.

Then came her funeral. I left mo- the Michman off that morning, dressed in all black and drove to the church. It was the same church my mom was married in. As I walked towards my mom’s coffin I held a photo from her wedding. My dad was a tall man, dark rugged hair and bearded, and my mom as young as ever. Her long blonde hair tied in a beautiful bun, draped over by her vale.

I walked to the coffin, and looked down at my mom’s face. She was smiling. A real smile, a cold smile. Of course, cold in the way hot metal would feel could after a cool rain; you felt the change. She lived, she was happy, and she’s done.

She’s done. She’s done. She’s, not done.

I broke down into tears and ran out. I sat in my car crying. This wasn’t real, my mom wasn’t dead. I’d just talked to her, my mom is real and my mom is alive.

I entered my house crying and turned the projector on. My mom’s smile, her cold smile…

She comforted me through the night, told me that she would watch over me and the corpse I saw wasn’t her. I knew it! Mom was alive! My mom was right here of course! Mom never died, no, but they stuffed a cold replica in the coffin and told me she died of cancer.

My mom and I carried on normal life for months. Every morning I made breakfast, left a bagel out on the counter for my mom, and left for work. Silly mother always refused to eat. Strange as it was, as she’d just barley made a recovery from cancer.

Every other night I began ordering dinner to spend more time talking to my mom. We talked and talked, about everything that had been happening in my life at work. Poor mother, bedridden mother.

I told her that I was bringing a boy over to meet her over dinner, and she guided me through an old risotto recipe. I swear I need to be doing more puzzles or something because I swore she never put any meat in it but she insisted that it needed sausage. Silly me.

The man came over, what a prude he was. Called the house a mess, though I admit time for cleaning flys by talking to my mom. And then when he met my mother, he just left. He looked, I don’t know what that expression was. Mom never makes it, but I think my reflection does. So strange.

Eventually, I stopped leaving home, all I wanted was to talk to my mom. Then one day she made a suggestion, a very very brilliant suggestion!

Twenty-Eight-Year-Old Found Dead in Apartment; Michman AI Facing Legal Threats:

Twenty-eight-year-old Amy Elis was found dead in her house via suicide by the police after a report was made by her friend (who requested anonymity) when she had stopped attending work and responding to any instant messages. The unnamed friend claimed that Amy’s mother had died of cancer, and in an attempt to help her move on the friend purchased a ‘digital necromancy’ device from Michman AI company. The response logs revealed that after attending her mother’s funeral Amy went down a mental spiral insisting her mother was alive. Investigation revealed that she had stopped cleaning and taking care of her home, presumably to talk with the AI, and separated herself from all human interaction. This is not the first of such cases; of an individual using a ‘digital necromancy’ device and convincing themself that the AI is their ‘alive’ relative and attempting to join them. Michman is currently being reviewed for potential malpractice, incompetence, and improper safety review before public sale.

#writeblr #queer writers #original writing #short story #science fiction #scifi #this is about AI btw #also funily enough written before my mom died #writing #writebrl #writers on tumblr

2 notes · View notes