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[mixtapedoh]

literally ran to your inbox when i saw your writing event post. may i request hoshi with autumn by niki because i like pain and can not get this song out of head for days now

omg, a fellow niki lover <3333 jen, you always have had such wonderful taste. i love the way her songs allow me to bleed.

ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴇᴀɴ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴍᴇ?

☄. *. ⋆

pairing: kwon soonyoung x reader (not endgame) genre: angst, break-up word count: ~1k warnings: heartbreak, death imagery (don't we love angst and more angst and a dash of even more crushing angst?), barely there plot but fuck it, we ball.

olive's notes: a very interesting exercise for me! tbh, as a niki fan, i love to cast her songs as potential fic ideas, and when i hear autumn, my gut reaction is woozi, so to think about hoshi instead was a welcome challenge. hopefully i did it justice <3.

Read

You stare at those four letters, that single word, the broken sentence fragment not even deserving of punctuation until the blue light of your phone burns the impression of it into your retina in a persistence that lasts longer than your last conversation with him, just days before.

Read.

Not even four letters he had deigned to type out — some semblance of a response to your longing that you'd attempted to sever with a knife that, rusted through, meant you had to saw at that place where you deemed your attachment thinnest over and over: a back and forth motion, a seasickened sort of nausea that left you emptier than perhaps the hacking would have resulted in, had the cut been clean. But no; to all that you had spilled before him in your text (written and rewritten, drafted and thrown out, wept over, then created anew), all he could offer you — all he would give you, now — was silence. A read receipt. All your feelings still spilling out of you, pooling in shallow oceans, sales tax. Your anger, change. A transaction in the deficit. A run-up tab, a thousand I-owe-you's coalescing in just four letters, not even the ellipses of thought.

Read.

But did he?

When you fell for Hoshi all those months ago, it certainly hadn't been for his careful trepidation, or some thoughtful penchant for contemplation. It was for the lack of it, really. The way he so effortlessly swept you up — took your wary hands, and with a smile that seemed to embody the whole of him, coaxed the laughter out of you, and then following, the vulnerable, sticky truth. He liked it — liked you — he always pressed for more.

And so you'd give, and he would take. Then he'd offer, and you'd come closer to receive. Close enough to memorize the lines in his face, intimate enough to carve the worst of you into his bones.

And then work came between you, as it was wont to do. You were seeing each other in secret, of course (could you imagine what they'd say, if all the world knew?), but then people grew suspicious, an accounting of his every move including too many reports of you. So space was needed, but Soonyoung was apologetic, and you were hopeful you'd pull through.

"I love you," you'd whisper in the late night phone calls when he'd still be in his sweats and running choreography that was perfect as is.

(It wasn't right, he'd always claim. And he'd do it again and again, critiquing it over and over. Sharper. More focused. Harder. More precise. Another replay of the same, small moment. A circle that he could never claim was finished, an ideal he could never move past. It would be perfect. It had to be right. It wasn't enough if it were half-performed, it would never signify.)

"You love me?" he'd laughing, reply. Joking self deprecation, it had began, then a spiral towards something doubtful and unsure. A while yet and it began to hollow and turn cold.

"You love me?" he'd once said. "Not if I love you more."

And what if he'd stopped all together? A train crash or a too-long sustained whimper, it's silence a death.

Could you love him still, if this feeling is just aching? Could you love him if your phone calls were never picked up and only once, returned? Could you love him if you begged to hear from him and he'd go for weeks at a time without giving you a word? Could you love him if — at midnight — you texted him that it felt as though with each passing day he was loving you less, and every moment your breath was hitched in anticipation waiting for him to come home an agony of only half-living and drowning in your own insecurities and sorrow.

Could you love him if you sent it, and waited all that early morning for his reply, only for him to read it 4 hours later and not even reply?

"I'm so lucky I met you," Soonyoung had once said to you, with flowers in his hands, a bouquet of bleeding colors, a display near blinding when you looked at it head on. The assortment was so fresh, their fragrance assaulted your every sense, and the reminder of him lingered long after he was gone.

The aroma was gone, now. The savor expired, the petals wilted and sagged. You were perhaps due another fresh delivery, and maybe he'd bring it to you — every new batch of flowers less ceremonious than the last, with fewer words of endearment, rarely an explanation for all he'd done in between the death of the old set, and the replacement with something new.

Excuses rarely beget the same of their kind, and thinness only ever tried to be better, still.

. . .

He was typing.

Maybe that read receipt was still burned into your retinas. Maybe despite this offer of something, you were through.

☄. *. ⋆

blog home

[mythvoiced]

@tewwor | ♥

"It's... Please, I need you to return that. I'm sorry, I'm- I'm not accusing you of taking it, it, I will say- I mean it was a mistake, surely, I will say that's what happened."

[forbiddcnsirvn]

DEVILSERPENT: Today, we celebrated another year of our marriage. How impressive is that? Another whole year was spent with you and our children. You are the reason why I'm still here today; because you were fucking strong enough to get us here, Cy, to rebuild our lives with each and every new experience. But most importantly, you inspired me to do so much more than just survive, or be someone else’s puppet. You inspired me to fight for what I believed in. To get through the shittiest hell possible, laden with blood and filth and lies and all the things that a normal pair, I believe, don’t always have to go through, but if anything it only makes me think of how special our bond is. How I could never see myself with anyone but the same person who has gone through thick and thin with me. 

When it came to raising our children, we knew that by having each other around, they wouldn't feel the weight of being alone. Your courage for our kids is something I'll never stop being grateful for. They adore you and I love you more than anything in life. This is why your hard work pays off, we both get to spend time with one another and make sure they're happy and content. With every second that goes by, I realize how much more precious this really is. I strive for better every day as if it were my last, it's a promise I made to myself when we were together and nothing else mattered but us. As long as we have one another, nothing else can matter-after all, looking back doesn't do any good if you don't enjoy what's in front of you at the moment. You always knew how to make me believe in us againm\ even when we were fighting against an unbeatable foe. And now, we're getting better at believing back in each other.

We were such a mess before we got married, and we still are. And I’ve never been more thankful for that. I don't think sunshine and rainbows are made for people like us, but that's just how I like it, every bloodshed, every stupid fight that we had, it only makes me think of how passionate we are for each other. How we would rather die than live without knowing that you are there for us no matter what. That if I have to, I'd be willing to give up everything to come home to you and see the smile on your face, that little dopey grin that you have when you open your eyes, even when you have to deal with your sickness. We don't need anything more, you know? Not even a perfect wedding ring, or a million dollars in cash. All we want right now is to find out how to keep living. That's where my hope lies, my faith, where my future belongs. In you. And my children, of course. I'm happy, Cyrek, I want you to know that despite my many flaws, my fears, and my doubts, I am happier than ever before. And I couldn't have it any other way. I wouldn't trade what I have with you for anything else in this world. You're everything I've ever wanted; everything I've ever dreamed about. And now I have it with you all to myself. Forever. 

I love you, and nothing in this world will change that. And I know for a fact you love me too. There's no one else I would rather marry, there's no place that I would rather be with you, there's no one else I would rather grow old with. Everything's alright, Cy. Even we get stuck in bed forever. It doesn't matter, as long as you're here with me. The rest of my days, my life, are yours to thread along with.

@nxnbinarydracvla

[yukikorogashi]

my hands are clean in all of this. / itsuki

RANDOM DIALOGUE PROMPTS 2.0

SHE WOULD STUDY @kaizokugaris with unconcealed SCEPTICISM, with one brow of hers arched up high enough to be concealed behind silver bangs then.

While the other villagers would distance and cower away (To the point of even ducking behind nearby bales of straw and peeking over them) from the rather intimidating looking bro, Itsuki had grown just a little too use to this. Having dealt with just too many BIG, IMPOSIN' FIGURES such as this here bro, during these past years. Something that she quickly learnt was all part of the job, when it came to leading and protecting her people.

The sight of them standing from across one another was laughably ridiculous (Yet all the same worrying to the villagers watching from afar), as she stood just a feet or so away from him... well, perhaps just a little more than that. As she tried to maintain a composed enough stance, Itsuki still needed to tip her head back and arch her back just enough-- so that she would be able to look him in the eye.

As much as she hated to cast any suspicion on anyone, it would only make sense that these here NEW ARRIVALS would be the ones to turn heads. Though Itsuki was already quickly doubting that he had any involvement in what's been going on lately. Seeing as the culprits were often OPENLY PROUD about whatever CHAOS they wound up bringing upon the heads of innocent, hardworking peasants like themselves... it was downright infuriating, really. And would forever make her blood boil that such... BUTTHEADS, take such joy in doing this to others they see as beneath them!

"... Awraht, bro. Ah believe ya..." She would eventually let out a rather tired sigh, one just too tired for someone her age. She was gonna give this bro the benefit of the doubt. After all, no one had actually seen him DO ANYTHING, since he got here. And just because he looked big and scary, don't mean he was the one who was behind all this recent terrorising', "... We've jus' been dealin' wit' alotta OUTSIDERS who ain't been the most gracious lateleh. Takin' advantage of our HOS-PEH-TA-LITY..." She nearly spat that last part out through gritted teeth, as she thought further on this. He really came at a bad time, that's for sure. And so that suspicion could not be lifted off him completely.

[bookshelf-dust]

when it's rainin'

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 2,666 ;)

warnings: swearing, reader has a fear of thunderstorms, kinda newly established relationship, a few sexual innuendos, fluff

a/n: hi! this was very self-indulgent for me and i am decidedly dedicating this fic to all of my fellow thunderstorm fearers. i see you. i am you. i hope this isn't too bad. i revised it too many times and i'm still feeling a little fretful over it. also, the title is a fleetwood mac lyric. bite me. anyways, please let me know what you think! mwah mwah i love you <333

————

“Billy, I gotta get going.”

You squeeze the fat of his thigh where it’s draped over both of your legs. He takes hold of your wrist; his grip gentle, if not a little teasing. 

He turns to look at you, head lolling against the back of the couch. His hair is pushed up messily behind him on the cushion. You know that if he were to sit up, it’d be matted in the way that it gets when he lays on it for too long. 

Billy knows the cogs in your brain are at work. The beginnings of a cocky smirk play at the corners of his mouth. He furrows his brow, faux concern written all across his face, as if something’s wrong. 

“But it’s rainin’, baby.” He gives his head a little shake, like he can’t believe you’d leave in weather like this.

His smirk is in full bloom when he laces his fingers with yours and lifts your hand up to his mouth. You turn to look out the window and feel him press a kiss to your knuckles. 

He’s buttering you up and you know it. 

“It’s just rain, Hargrove. And I do know how to drive.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, the rain picks up, enough so that you can hear it pounding against the roof. 

Billy laughs, low and sweet. You glare at him.

“Fine. I’ll wait it out.”

“Mhm,” he grunts, peeling his leg off of yours and repositioning himself on the couch. He leans up against the arm, and holds his own out to you. You know what he’s doing, so you oblige. 

Billy loves to watch storms, and holding you this way makes for a better view out the window. You lean into him, back pressed to his chest. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and buries his face in your neck. 

There’s a crack of lightning and the rumble of thunder that follows seems to shake the earth itself. Your stomach drops. This is exactly what you hadn’t wanted to happen, and now you’re stuck here, with Billy, internally panicking over a thunderstorm. Admittedly, you do feel a bit safer than you would alone in your bedroom, but this fear isn’t exactly something you share with others. 

“You can’t drive home in that,” he argues. 

You grab hold of Billy’s forearms, his skin warm under your palms. “I said I’d wait it out,” you mumble. 

He kisses the side of your throat, and it’s the kind of kiss you might feel lingering there for the rest of the day. Like his lips have left a searing brand against your skin. 

“You could just stay,” he drawls. 

“Billy.”

He lets out a breath of a laugh and moves his face back from you. “Yeah, I know. You don’t love me.”

You let yourself slide further down the couch until your head rests on Billy’s tummy. He doesn’t let go of you though, hands rubbing over your collarbones. “That’s not fair.”

It thunders then, at a volume you couldn’t have expected. It rattles both you and the windows, making you jump. 

“You okay?” Billy’s tone is sincere. 

You sit back up a little bit, and he uses the leverage to pull you into him. He wraps his arms around you completely, enveloping you in warmth and the scent of his body wash. The gesture is protective. He can see the way you glance out the window, and he thinks you might be looking for that flash, that queue for another rumble. 

“‘M fine. Scared me is all.”

Your grip on Billy’s knee says otherwise. He thinks he understands.

“I’ve never been with you during a storm before. You don’t like ‘em?”

You glance back at him. The concern on his face is genuine this time, but you can still see that underlying tendency to tease, like he’s ready to use it when he feels necessary. 

“Rain is fine,” you start. “I love it, actually. It’s just when it gets like this, when you can’t see down the driveway anymore and it’s windy. I really don’t like the wind.”

It is pretty damn windy. Billy hadn’t noticed it until you pointed it out. It makes him glad he parked under the carport today, knowing this is the kind of storm that leaves a mess behind. 

You’re starting to panic, not only because you’ve just told Billy about your childish fear, but also because you don’t know what kind of weather they’re calling for. You live in Indiana, for fucks sake. You don’t like that all of this is out of your control, that there’s nothing you can do but wait it out. 

“Hey, look at me.” Billy says, voice low and enticing. It pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. Your fingers are cold where they press into his legs. You twist around to face him and his hands meet your cheeks. His eyes are boring into yours. 

He kisses you. It’s slow, measured. The kind of kiss that steals your breath and demands your full attention. 

You realize too late that it’s a distraction. You don’t jump when it thunders this time. 

Billy pulls away, pleased with the blissed out look on your face. With the fact that he’s seemingly calmed you down for the moment. 

“That sweatshirt you like is on my bed. Why don’t you go get it, huh?”

You nod and he steadies you when you climb off of him and the couch. Billy wants to look at the weather, but he also wants to take care of you. He’s not letting you drive home tonight. 

You slip down the hall and Billy uses the time to flip the channel, assuming the weather will be on. 

You find his sweatshirt where he told you it’d be and stop at the foot of his bed, pulling it on over your head. It smells like him. Not like his cologne or cigarettes, but like the Billy who took a shower and got cold, who fell asleep earlier than usual and slept in more clothes than he ever has—this sweatshirt included. 

You see the lightning this time and are able to brace yourself for the thunderclap that follows. You still scramble back to the living room, seeking refuge in Billy. 

Your footsteps are quiet despite your panic, and Billy only notices you’ve entered the room because he’d sat up firmly against the back of the couch. You’re chewing on your lip, staring at the warnings flying across the screen. “What’d it say?” 

Billy turns the tv off. “Nothing bad baby, promise.” He holds out his hands and scoots to the edge of his seat, pulling you to stand in between his legs. He closes them against your own, gently trapping you there. “Just that it was gonna be stormy the rest of the night.”

Your brow furrows. “It’s not gonna let up?”

“Doesn’t look like it.” This time you catch the way the corner of his mouth quirks up. Clearly he’s happy with himself and the weather. 

Billy’s always loved these kinds of storms, and he hates that you don’t, but if he can get rain and his baby to spend the night all in one go? He’ll be pretty damn content. 

You realize that you should’ve watched the weather report this morning, but it seems that when you know you’ll be spending time with Billy, he’s the only thing that occupies your brain. 

“Dammit,” you say. 

Billy squeezes at your hips, and it makes you look down at him. There’s a pout on his face: the crease between his brows deepening, his bottom lip jutting out just that little bit. He squeezes harder now that he’s got your attention. 

“Something wrong with staying here? You really wanna go home that bad?” 

Billy’s teasing and you know it. You know that he’d let you go if you actually wanted to, that he’d worry until you got home and called him to say you were okay. You also know that he wants you to stay, and you’ve known that since you got to his place and saw the relief on his face. Hell, he hasn’t stopped touching you since then either. He’s plenty needy today. 

You cup his face with your hands, swipe your thumb over the smattering of freckles under his eye. His fingers have made their way under the hem of your (his) shirt and are pressing into your skin. 

“I didn’t say that. I just told my parents that I wouldn’t be home too late.”

“So call and say you’re staying the night, that you don’t want to drive home in this weather.”

You decide then that maybe you don’t need to overthink this so much. That maybe you shouldn’t let your brain ruin what could be a nice night. 

“Okay.”

Billy blinks up at you.

You move away from him and then you’re picking up the phone from its place on the wall, punching in your home number. 

Billy can’t believe that worked. You never listen to him. And clearly you recognize this given that you’re hiding a grin with the back of your hand as you talk. The phone call is over quickly, and when you walk back over to him, Billy pulls you down into his lap. Your fingers find their way into his hair before you can even think about it. 

“Have I behaved better than I thought?” Billy asks, tentatively rubbing up and down your thighs. 

You grin at him and place a kiss on his cheek. It’s warmer than it should be, because somehow you’ve managed to fluster him. 

“You keep giving me your pitiful little looks, Billy.”

He scoffs. “No, I don’t.”

“Don’t lie to me, pretty boy.”

He blushes. Goddamnit, Billy thinks. You can read him much too easily now. He’s really fucked. 

Billy exhales. “I’ve wanted you to stay the night for weeks. But you always had to be home or somethin’. And the storm seems to be working in my favor tonight, y’know?” He gives you this look then, his eyes traveling across your face, down your neck and back up. He bats his lashes at you and you slap him on the shoulder. 

He acts as though he’s appalled, grabbing you by the waist and maneuvering you off of him and onto the couch. Billy braces himself against the cushions and hovers over top of you. “Now that was just rude.”

“You deserved it,” you bite back, leaning up to swipe the tip of your tongue across the end of his nose. “Hate it when you flirt with me.”

Billy rolls his eyes and lets his weight drop down on top of you, causing you to voice an audible oof. 

He props himself up on his elbows, face inches from yours. “Mhm. Hate it when your boyfriend flirts with you. I believe it.”

You start to say something, something he knows will be a smartass remark, so Billy presses his lips to yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. You make a noise of surprise and Billy starts to laugh against your mouth, a low chuckle that makes you want to both keep kissing him and shove him on the floor. 

Billy pulls away to press kisses to both of your cheeks and the center of your throat. You’re lost in his affection when it thunders again, making you jolt underneath him. He brings a hand up to cradle your cheek. “Hey. S’okay.”

You start to nod when the lights flicker, and you swear your heart falls out of your ass. Please don’t let the power go out, you think. He can read the panic on your face. 

“Okay,” Billy grunts, pushing himself to stand. “New plan.”

You sit up, and Billy quickly hooks one arm around your back, the other under your thighs. He hoists you up and over his shoulder, making you squeal with how swift the action is. But you don’t protest, and only hope that he won’t drop you on the way to his next destination.

Billy sets you down on his bed.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, running your hands down your face. You realize too quickly the opening you’ve given him.

He leans in to kiss your forehead, though he pulls away and lets his mouth linger over the shell of your ear. 

“You can ride anytime you want, baby.”

You fall back onto his mattress. “Billy, please.”

“Don’t gotta beg, honey. Whatever it is, I’ll give it to you.”

You hold back a groan at his antics. “I really should’ve gone home.” 

Billy laughs and lands a playful smack to the side of your thigh before moving towards his dresser. 

You push up on your elbows to watch him sort through his clothes. He grabs a couple things and brings them to you before pulling his own shirt off over his head. 

“Why are you stripping?” You question, looking over the shirt and shorts he’d handed you. 

“If you think that’s stripping, clearly I haven’t been good enough to you,” Billy snorts.

You grin up at him. “Are these for me?” you ask, holding onto the bundle of fabric in your hands. 

“Mhm. For you to sleep in.”

You nod hesitantly, having just seen a flash outside of Billy’s window. This time the rumble is just that, not a clap, not enough to rattle the windows in their frames. 

Billy moves towards his door, with the promise of getting more blankets, allowing you a moment to change. He comes back with water for you, too.

He kicks the door closed behind him, internally melting at the sight of you in his clothes. You’re so pretty, it physically hurts him. He’s never felt that way in his life. 

Billy gets you to drink some for him before you’re scooting further into his bed and he’s kicking off his sweats. 

You watch him move around the room, the way the muscles of his back move as he’s shutting blinds and pulling makeshift curtains closed. He turns off the overhead light, leaving only that coming from the lamps he has. 

You’re in awe of how easy it is for him to take care of you. How he didn’t pester you for being afraid of the storm but instead has comforted you and seems dedicated to keeping you safe. 

Billy finally slips into bed beside you. “What are we doing?” you ask, eyeing his torso while he settles in. He pretends not to notice. 

“I’m protecting you from the big bad storm, baby.” He kisses your hairline. 

You smile at him, one of pure joy that starts slow and grows brilliantly. The both of you are bundled up like it’s some big sleepover, or like you’ve stayed up hiding a book beneath the sheets. 

“Well, I’m not sleepy. So what’d you wanna do? Tell secrets?” 

Billy props his head up, palm cradling the base of his skull, elbow squishing his pillow. He laughs and squeezes at your hip. 

“Trivia? Talk about boys?” you continue. 

He shakes his head, his smile matching yours and making his eyes crinkle at the corners. Sometimes he can’t believe he landed you. “You got a boy you wanna talk about?”

You snort. “Mhm. There’s one I like. He’s pretty but super grumpy.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep.”

“I think trivia might be better since you’re just going to bully me.” 

Billy flops down on his back. You push up so you can hover over him. 

“Whatever you want, baby.” 

Billy rolls his eyes but kisses you again, pulling your face down to meet his, mouth warm against yours. The next round of thunder is louder than the last and your heart rate picks up, but with him here it feels okay.

It’s hard not to feel safe when he takes such good care of you, when he’s warm enough that everything feels protected, like you could weather any storm with him and his smart ass mouth.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

tagging: @clovermunson (for being such a gem and helping me)

[full-tiltboogiearc]

It had been a while since Ford walked into Merlotte's and spent an honest good evening there.

In the last two years since vampires had been discovered, he knew to stay away from the place—most places, actually, where a high volume of humans could be found. It was relatively easy considering he didn't need to grocery shop and any sort of social activity could be done at vampire bars or hotels that had kept themselves relatively contained under the guise of exclusivity. But before vampires became part of the global lexicon, he'd pop into neighborhood places like Merlotte's every so often. If only to remember what it was like to be human, even though it took feigning a disgusting glass of grape wine to sit through.

Around these parts, they say some things never change, but he knew better than that. When you've been alive for as long as he has, on the surface, all the algae on the swamp is just as murky-green—the hicks are still hicks. Underneath it, though, are layers of sediment and rock, spongy peat that soaks everything up—the hicks always find something new to complain about, keeping humans right at the very edge of evolving to a higher intelligence than what they're capable of.

Only every now and then in Bon Temps did someone come in and threaten to throttle all those years of grimy bog. Somebody who thought differently. And someone who wasn't afraid to speak their mind. The way the girl spoke to Mrs. Fortenberry like a mother berating a child (maybe a touch more cruel than that, honestly) told Ford a few things: One, that she was that very girl who dared to throttle, and two, she had a functioning enough brain to debate. Those combined, he had to guess she wasn't from around here.

(Not that he would fully know, since everyone in Merlotte's was a new face to him. Except Mrs. Fortenberry's, who seemed to simultaneously age and stay looking the same. She could potentially rival vampires one day...)

He wasn't much of a talker—not even amongst his own kind—so when the girl didn't just give him a half-hearted chuckle and a polite smile before walking away, he realized the hole he'd dug himself into. Not because she'd snapped at him—that, he could handle. But because she seemed apologetic about it, and was now the first person in Merlotte's to acknowledge him despite the fact he'd been sitting here for about half an hour.

He adjusted his hat, but kept his face low. Ford wasn't necessarily trying to hide he was a vampire, because that was the sort of thing you couldn't miss these days. He was pale and stoic and didn't other vampires have that kind of dark aura to them? (He wasn't 100% certain. That was just something his dumb sister Soleil, also a vampire, once told him.) But he felt somewhat self-conscious now, her eyes on him. And her smile, even if it was a forced one, glowed. She was so... human.

"A girl named Tara? No, ain't seen her." The bar had been relatively empty for the last half hour. Maybe others could sense he was a vampire, but what was more likely was that at this hour, everyone who would be sitting at the bar had stumbled to the pool tables or at other booths to comingle. Everybody knew somebody around here. He looked up at her behind the brim of his cap, a raggedy Smith Ferry and Farm hat, a relic from his family business.

"I'll take a Tru Blood."

a woman condemned to a life in bon temps. that’s what jeannie oh felt like, at least. she was a prisoner in the small, northeastern louisiana town that her father had moved to after years in shreveport. she was a prisoner because she blew up her figure skating career, and her mother couldn’t stand to look at her because she hadn’t gone on to the olympics (and stopped the gravy train). she was a prisoner because she was stuck living in her dad’s house with her annoying stepmother and admittedly pretty cute but disruptive toddler half-sister. she was stuck in a merlotte’s uniform with its tiny shorts and skin-tight t-shirt because she had been fired from the local big lots for being smartmouthed with the customers. all those things combined made her nigh insufferable, and she wanted to inflict her emotional pain on everyone that crossed her path.

sam merlotte refused to fire her despite many people advising him to—he took pity on her childish dramatics, believing it to come from a place of hurt and responded that jeannie was just a kid despite being twenty-four—and she couldn’t stand most of the people that walked through the restaurant’s doors. she only had two or three coworkers she could actually tolerate, and most customers begged the hostess not to seat them in jeannie’s section since she would no doubt somehow offend them. they offended her by not being the glamorous, cold people she knew back up north when she was still skating.

in short: everyone in bon temps was a stupid hick and she hated this fucking town!

then, of course, there were the murders. jeannie somehow kept the thought that they were lucky to leave bon temps even if it was through death to herself, though that was the only thing she kept to herself. a masterclass in self-restraint, she thought. it seemed every table that night just had to voice their thoughts on the victims and their supposed killers—they were sluts; that’s what they get for fangbangin’; that was why you could never trust a vampire; boy those fellowship of the sun people on tv know what they’re talkin’ ‘bout.

it was all so annoying. out of sense to be a contrarian rather than a vampire rights activist, jeannie fought with anyone she heard talking about the subject. in her opinion, vampires at least had the advantage of being interesting. everyone else in town had lived small, quiet lives that no one could envy. not like jeannie, worldly skater who had actually been to europe before and, at one time, owned a burberry purse.

clearly, no matter what she could say, it would all fall on deaf ears. no one actually cared about her opinion, despite how strongly she proclaimed it. “oh, whatever.” jeannie rolled her eyes, clutching onto the refill pitcher of water in her hands. she wanted to dump it in maxine fortenberry’s lap. “as if a vampire don’t have better things to do than pick off miss catfish bon temps pageant runner-ups all night. i don’t know what you’re so afraid of either, miss fortenberry. vampires wouldn’t even look twice at your old, wrinkled neck.”

with that, jeannie left the table without refilling maxine’s glass, ignoring the older woman’s protests about being mighty thirsty. instead, she returned to the bar and slammed the tray down on the bartop before she caught the gravelly voice speaking to her. slowly, she turned to the man and gave him an irritated sneer. “what’s it to you?”

still, it had been a long time since someone called her smart. most people just called her a bitch. sighing, jeannie decided that he would be the one customer that she was nice to today. putting her hands on the counter, she glanced down at the sink before she attempted to give him a pleasant smile. “some people don’t have a lick of sense, and they all happen to live here.” she looked around the table and didn’t see any drinks or food in front of him. “are you waiting to be served or somethin’? normally, tara takes care of all this up here, but she’s got an attitude worse than mine.” rather, she rivaled jeannie on the matter, but that was what made them get along most of the time: mutual hatred for the public.

[lostgracestories]

Hello! Can I request some Morgott/Tarnished headcanons about them being consorts and their married life? <3 Thank you!!

YESSS ILY <3

I have severe Morgott brainrot and istfg I love this emotionally constipated omen king <333 thank you for this request! Lowkey, as usual, this will probably be all over the place but I hope you enjoy none the less!

wc: 709 tw: do i need a tw for weapons?, mention of drunkeness (no one's actually drunk, also is that a word?)

~Marriage and Consortship~

Morgott is a very busy man. Like, very busy. Between paperwork and other kingly duties, he worries he hardly has time for his precious consort. However, he is ever so grateful for the patience you bestow upon him. he does not think himself worthy of such grace.

Whenever Morgott has a break in his busy schedule, he immediately fills it with you. Finished signing the last contract for the day? He's by your side in seconds with a cup of tea (he's old he probably likes tea, right?) and he makes sure that you know he loves you.

Obviously, it took him a while to get used to this new change in his life. Never in a million years had he thought he would be married and as such, he has no idea how to pick up on queues. "I wish a big strong man would come open this for me" "Wouldst thou like me to fetch one of the soldiers to help thee?" "...No Morgott I meant you" And you know he'd blush like an idiot every time something like this happens. (and he'd obviously help cause he loves you)

Morgott has a difficult time expressing his feelings through words. Despite his expansive vocabulary, he's never gotten a chance to speak in such a way with someone. Every once in a while he will try to compliment you and it will be so awkward that he vows to never do it again. (he will, in time) "Thy beauty is like a thousand swords, sharp, relentless, and unyielding" "...huh?" "...I meant... thou art fair...?" but lowkey, he would try to compare you to things he's familiar with and oftentimes it will have to do with battle and sometimes the erdtree.

Morgott unironically switches from calling you "Tarnished" to "My queen" and "My lady" the moment you both are joined through consortship/marriage. And he'll be damned if he admits that his heart beats a little faster when you call him "My king" although, it's so very obvious by how his body shifts around and his gaze leaves you when you say it.

Morgott had a ring handcrafted specifically for you. It definitely had a design resembling vines and leaves and the band is for sure gold. You don't even want to think of how much it cost him.

Morgott also sucks at receiving gifts. When he saw the mountain of gifts after their (albeit small) wedding, he nearly fainted. He still feels guilty accepting things from people, even if he knows you say he's worth it.

Morgott had always insisted that the two of you sleep separately because he feared he would accidentally harm you. So, when you came into his room on the night after the wedding, he stared at you in confusion. At first he thought you were drunk but instead, you had climbed into bed with him and expressed that you wished to sleep in the same bed from now on. He was hesitant but he allowed it. He had to admit, he actually enjoyed it.

Morgott sometimes lets you help him make political choices. If he becomes stuck on a certain matter, he will seek you out for help. "My Queen, thou art so gracious, pray tell, wouldst thee help me with this issue?"

He 100% loves to garden. During your wedding, he had made your bouquet by hand out of erdleaf flowers. It was so gorgeous that when you asked him to help you preserve them, he instead made you a little bench in his garden (he can definitely do woodwork too) for you to sit amongst his erdleaf flowers. Whenever he walks past the garden and sees his beautiful wife sitting amongst his hard work, he is immediately pulled out of what he is doing. No matter how important it is. He can't help but admire you from afar.

And lastly, he of course always humors your little date ideas. Even if it means sneaking away from his kingly duties to go watch the stars. If the night was cold in those moments, he would definitely allow you to find warmth in his tattered cloak. (you could beg and beg but he refused to get rid of it for better clothes)

[garoujo]

hiiii guys ! as we all know i’m totes back to terrorise my super cute followers again (ó ꒳ ò✿) but because i’ll be in japan this month ,, i decided to be super organised + pre-write some posts to queue for the next few weeks so that i’m not starving you all again as soon as i’m back <333

spoilers for what’s being posted the next few weeks below cut (these will all be posted and pre written + anything else i get finished will be posted in addition to these) :

MONDAY 25TH SEP — FUSHIGURO MEGUMI NSFW!

WEDNESDAY 27TH SEP — GOJO SATORU SFW!

THURSDAY 28TH SEP — FUSHIGURO TOJI 7 MINUTES IN HEAVEN CHAPTER!

MONDAY 2ND OCT — CHILDE NSFW!

WEDNESDAY 4TH OCT — GOJO SATORU NSFW!

EMMIE IS IN JAPAN BUT THE FOLLOWING POSTS WILL BE QUEUED & ILL STILL BE IN & OUT WITH UPDATES:

FRIDAY 6TH OCT — NAGI SEISHIRO SFW!

MONDAY 9TH OCT — NANAMI KENTO 7 MINUTES IN HEAVEN CHAPTER!

WEDNESDAY 11TH OCT — WRIOTHESLEY NSFW! + BONUS 7 MINUTES IN HEAVEN CHAPTERS REVEALED!

FRIDAY 13TH OCT — GOJO SATORU SFW!

MONDAY 16TH OCT — NEUVILLETTE NSFW!

WEDNESDAY 18TH OCT — GOJO SATORU SFW!

FRIDAY 20TH OCT — JJK HEADCANONS NSFW!

EMMIE IS HOME FROM JAPAN + WILL CONTINUE WORKING ON BONUS 7MIH CHAPTERS!

since i’ll have a lot of free times since i’ve been trying to keep organised (+ i have a 12 hour flight to amuse myself). i may post a few extra things here + there if random motivation strikes me or you guys send anything in like thirsts / prompts! so yeah ,, hoping u guys will enjoy the upcoming stuff <333

[liquid-luv]

Had to increase my queue to once an hour because well.. I went a lil crazyy. Hope you don’t mind! <3 Man I’m ngl I fuuukcing love tumblr, it’s full of the most beautiful humans and every day I get to curate my own personal art galleries and it’s like what my brain looks like on the inside :3

I go back to work in 2 days so I’ll be on here a lil less intensely haha, if you are reading this I hope you have a good day and that 2024 brings you many wonderful blessings <333

[mickmundy]

AGUAAAA to the anon that asked me about spy headcanons i am working on cooking some up for you!! ^v^ i've been REALLY busy lately so i'm sorry i haven't been active on here (been running on a queue), i hope you're all doing well and having a good start to your weeks! <333

i will also be elaborating on my werecroc sniper au too, i haven't forgotten!!! ;_; ILYASM!!!

[monstersandmaw]

hey ghosti!! i'm aware that you're taking a break, im sending you kind thoughts and the best of my wishes toward the coming weeks. you're a delightful, kind, and wonderful person,, rehydrate, go on a stroll, and above all things, take care of yourself

— big mer anon xxxooo

(also big mer anon) your content, reblogs of art and your writing is easily my favorite part of the day. i've actually found myself looking forward to seeing what you bring to the spotlight again. again, hope you're doing well and have a great day lovely ghosti!! please do not feel obligated to answer, this is just a friend checking on a friend :3 <333

__

Thank you so much!! I was on a deliberate break while we were sorting out care at relatively short notice for my step-dad and making sure my mum is managing ok, but now it's just... I have nothing to post and I've not really been around on here much either...? I'm lurking quietly, so knowing that you thought of me enough to send me this made me feel nine kinds of special, thank you.

It's currently super duper hot here (at least by UK standards), so I'm trying not to overheat, with lots of iced fruit tea and elderflower cordial, and doing all the things you're supposed to do to keep safe in blazing sunshine and near-30C heat (temps indoors have been about 27-30C at midnight, which is... less fun!!). My skin has changed colour so much in the past two weeks that I can't wear my winter foundation without looking like a ghost or a clown, which is kind of funny. Thanks, Mediterranean heritage :)

I'm going to see some super beautiful roses tomorrow with my in-laws, so that'll be a nice trip, and I'll be wearing my big, floppy straw hat too :). I've also been doing some coppice work and hurdle making outdoors, which has been a nice distraction from things going on at home. I'm not writing a huge amount at the moment, but the retelling of the minotaur/labyrinth story is ticking away.

I need to refresh my 'old stories reblog' queue because it's due to run out shortly, so I'll carry on with working my way through the old masterlist.

Aaaanyway, thank you for thinking of me, and take care of yourself, lovely Big Mer Anon!

[lovelyinconsistentices]

I just wanna say that ur my fav writer and I hope 2024 is going well for you!!

AGH, THANK YOU SO MUCH! <333

This is definitely very late, I was supposed to respond way earlier but then I started having horrible problems with the wifi. 😭

But I'm so happy that you enjoy my writing, waking up to this really made my night better. 2024 has been going quite well for me, I'm still in the progress of moving. I'm currently writing stuff and hoping to set it all in a queue to have it sent at the same time once I'm done, I have headcannons for Knives coming soon, one or maybe two oneshots for Neil, and some stuff for Ramona. But I'm working on everyone's request as fast as I can, while also organizing everything. But let me not ramble too much, thank you again. I hope you're day or night is going lovely, and that 2024 has been going well for you! Sending hugs and hoping I'll have some content out for you to read soon. <3

[jeniffercheck]

Will you post a new fic this week? Absolutely no rush, just asking.

I enjoy your work so much.

omgg i will put a progress update for what i'm working on currently:

Paris AU: first draft 85% complete

prompt request - karolina finds shiv in the "scheduling her grief" scene: 75% complete

shivlina have a conversation after logan's funeral: 80% complete???

fics i have in the queue to work on:

prompt request for karolina talking shiv down from a panic attack

shivlina during the panic room ep

& i also want to write something set during the norway trip, haven't fully figured out what the plot would be yet, maybe a 5+1??

My goal is to post the grief scheduling prompt request this weekend, possibly tonight if I don't let it get too out of hand!! the funeral fic I'm not sure will get posted, I'm not super happy with it rn so I'll probably have to let it marinate and if I'm not liking it I'll just move onto the other stuff in the meantime.

Paris AU I'm hoping to work on a lot this weekend and be able to post next week! It's flowing pretty well, I just have some key scenes to figure out and then I can start the second draft of it<333

[deletreatualma]

long story short, i have many changes happening in my life rn. a quick synopsis: I will be moving, have to process a breakup, continue on the never-ending healing/growing journey, seeking to further my education, career opportunity (this one is a maybe?), & possibly needing to take on a second job. That being said, it is all the more reason for me to touch bases with myself and remember to do the things I enjoy and to invest more time in myself and my hobbies. writing is at the top of my (hobby) list and i will primarily be functioning through queue until I get some sort of routine formed. I know y'all have heard this before so I am totally not going to take anything personally if any of my former writing partners do not feel like writing with me moving forward. I am planning on working on what few drafts i have and queue them. Once that is done, I will write open starters. Depending on how late in the day it is is at that point, I may be around for some back and forths. I hope everyone has been doing well! Sending much love to you all. <333

[jojotransparents]

hii, I like your jjba transparent edits a lot! I was wondering if I could request a panel of Phantom Blood. I read in your rules that you can't always find good chapter panels so I tried to sharpen it as much as possible so you are able to use it :)

I'd also like to have this panel of Jonathan Joestar. If the first one is too much work I wouldn't mind if you only did the one with Jonathan :)

first pic is from vol 3 chapter 44 page 332-333 (I hope I counted it right)

the second pic is from vol 3 chapter 42 page 298

aaa thank you! and absolutely, i went ahead and posted one of the transparents right now :] the next two posts in the queue will also be from that first page

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

I appreciate your Sharp audio files so much! I have an intimidating queue of fics I want to read, but I am looking forward to reading yours! Thanks for being an amazing member of the Sharpy community!

Thank you!!! ����🥹🥹 I love love LOVE your Aesop art, and I i n h a l e d "Healing together " ❤️ I'm very happy my silly little fics and audios are appreciated<333

The fic I'm working on currently is about 75% written and I hope to finish it next week. I wanted to just write PWP at first, but then Plot came and the wip is over 10k 🥹

Thank you once again for your kind words ❤️