#i hope this was coherent i refuse to proofread

[remedy-ships-it]

tell me…….. about having bobby as a father……… what was that like :3

omg hiii elle!!

okok so i know canonically bobby never had kids because he was scared he'd turn out like his dad BUT i think he would've been a great girldad . like obviously he wouldn't be perfect because no parent is perfect . but he'd be good and loving. maybe a little overprotective over his baby girl, but that's fair after what happened to his wife (she's still killed by a demon in my timeline, so rem never knew her and was raised by just her dad)

but yeah . i feel he'd parallel sam and dean's dad in the way that where john went wrong, he'd father her better (i'm so great at words) . which is to say, he wouldn't raise her into the hunter life but he would of course explain to her what really happened to her mom when she's old enough to understand and tells her about the lore . and when she's at a reasonable age, he'd teach her how to use a gun and defend herself from monsters in case he's not able to since he's still a hunter. but he tries not to bring that stuff home and would probably go out on hunts less with a kid, preferring to stay home with her and just answer calls and give hunting advice. but if he does go out on hunts, he'd leave her with Jody or another hunter friend until he gets back

he's also definitely the type of dad to help with homework and get confused and a little pissed off because "it wasn't like this when I was your age" .

rem was kinda more tomboyish being raised by just her dad though (i'm also "tomboyish" but that's not the point) . but bobby would make sure she had Barbies, my little ponies, maybeeee spoiled her just a little bit (Dean definitely still makes fun of her for being a Daddy's girl and mockingly calls her "Princess") but he just wanted her to have a better childhood than he did . he'd also take her hunting (as in deer hunting, but only once because it made her cry) and fishing and play catch because he's not entirely sure how to raise a little girl but he's trying his best

for this reason, she had issues making friends in school and was often outcasted, so sam and dean were the only ones who could really understand her growing up .

i think he'd still have a bit of a problem with alcoholism because that kind of thing doesn't just go away like that. but I could see him accidentally raising his voice once and working on himself because he doesn't want that for his kid

TLDR; not perfect but he tried his very best

[imaginedisish]

The Only Exception (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys!!! Ahhh here is the Din Djarin x reader fic I said I’d post. This has been sitting in my WIPs since late November/early December. This is what I was working on before I got sick. I’m so happy it’s done. I’m pretty pleased with how it turned out, although I may have written something similar to this already. It’s very much inspired by “The Only Exception,” by Paramore. I’m hoping I didn’t use this song as a title yet....Oh well. ENJOY!

Summary: Din has been wildly overprotective of you lately, but maybe it’s because there’s something lying deep below the surface that’s been threatening to bubble over...

Warnings: SMUT!!!!! 18+ Please!!! Oral (f!receiving), fingering, PIV sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cursing, canon typical violence, Jedi!reader, Razor Crest still exists (and it’s def bigger in my head than it is in the show), praise kink, friends to lovers, angsty but fluffy and smutty dw, I only proofread like 2 times so it may be bad (it’s 3:16am...so...we die like men!), AFAB reader, uhhh I think that’s it...

Word Count: 3,078

“I swear to the Maker, if you don’t get back on the Crest now, I’m gonna-,”

Din is cut off by the sound of your lightsaber clashing through the plastoid armor of the stormtrooper to your left. You swing your saber around, showing off more than you need to. You throw it down the alleyway, feeling through the force as it cuts through another stormtrooper before finding its way back to your hand.

“You’re gonna what?” You say, tilting your head to the side. You point your saber to the stormtroopers scattered around the alleyway. “I just saved you.” You close your saber and cross your arms cockily.

Din shakes his head, his gaze refusing to meet yours. “And where’s the kid? You just left him on the Crest?” You roll your eyes, turning your back towards him as you remove your cloak from your shoulders. There, in perfect condition, is Grogu, secure in a little carrier on your back.

“You really think I’d be that dumb?” Your words have a callous edge to them. Din had been far moodier than usual over the past few days, and with that came a strange overprotectiveness that you hadn’t seen before. It was starting to feel as if he thought you were going to mess up, that you couldn’t take care of yourself. “You think I’d put the kid’s life at stake?”

“That’s not what I meant.” The anger in his voice has all but melted away. You’re shocked by how defeated he sounds now.

You inhale deeply, taking a moment to calm yourself down. “So what did you mean, Din?”

“We don’t have time for this now.” He’s curt and almost a bit cold, his modulated voice echoing off the walls of the alleyway. “We need to get back to the ship.”

You hate the way he’s brushing you off, ignoring you, pushing you to the side. You didn’t need this; you didn’t need to put up with his shit. Not anymore. “What is going on with you?” The words come out louder, more aggressive than you meant them to.

Din takes a single stride towards you, his broad figure practically shoving you against the wall in the process. “We are not doing this here.” The feeling of him being so close to you clouds your mind. You can’t form a coherent thought, never mind a sentence. You want to say something, to stand up for yourself, but you can’t. “Now cut the shit so we can get back to the ship.” There’s that anger again, that finality in his voice.

In the distance you can hear stormtroopers chatting, whispering your name, mumbling on about Grogu, warning each other about the Mandalorian. Din was right. There was no time to hash this out here. You nod, finally caving in. Din takes a step away from you, immediately grasping your wrist in his hand before making a break for the Crest, just on the other end of the alleyway.

Somehow you make it without being seen. Din lets go of your hand, motioning for you to get on the ship. You make a b-line for the back and carefully remove Grogu from his carrier, placing him in his crib. You stand frozen in place in front of it, watching his eyes flutter open and closed as he slowly drifts off to sleep.

You don’t want to move. You rather watch the child you had come to care so deeply for sleep peacefully than deal with a massively enraged Din. The oncoming fight would most definitely wake Grogu, so maybe it was best for you to hide in the little corner that you had come to call Grogu’s bedroom, completely unnoticed. But obviously, that’s not an option. You begrudgingly step towards the end of the hull and decide to keep your hands busy by organizing the tiny stock of food that lined a makeshift shelf along the far wall.

You can hear Din’s heavy steps on the other side of the ship, presumably heading up towards the cockpit. After a few seconds and many annoyed grunts from Din, the ship is lifted into the air and away from danger.

You try your best to bring yourself to get angry at him, to yell some explicative across the hull of the ship and spit a curse in his helmet-covered face. You wanted the consequences, for him to storm over and scream back. But you couldn’t – because things weren’t normally like this. Din had always been kind, caring, protective even.

He'd leave the cockpit to grab a blanket from his cot when you fell asleep in the co-pilot’s chair. He’d come back and gently, yet silently, tuck you in with it. It was the only blanket he had. Sometimes you’d wake up in his bed, having been carried into it at some point during the night. He’d be awake, taking care of the child, flying the Crest, making sure nothing and no green baby woke you up.

You’d be lying if you said his doting behavior didn’t draw you to him, that it didn’t make you crave him. Every soft touch on your shoulder, every time you pretended to be asleep just to feel his arms wrap around you as he brought you to his cot. You’d let your stares linger a little too long from time to time, pushing past your reflection in his armor, searching for some sort of sign that maybe he feels the same.

You wanted him to come up behind you, rest his hands on your hips, squeezing softly at the exposed inch of skin where your top and your pants just can’t seem to meet, and whisper in your ear in that husky, modulated voice that he’s sorry, that he’ll make up to you by-

“Never, ever, do anything like that again.” You practically jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice. You quickly turn around, not realizing how close Din had gotten to you. His chest is practically flush against yours, the proximity causing you to stumble back against the shelf, threatening to bring it down with you.

Din immediately snakes an arm around your waist, keeping you from falling against the cold metal floors below. Your arms instinctively reach up around his neck to stabilize yourself. You’re glued to him now, and you don’t particularly want to let go. You swallow harshly, intimidated by the way the beskar clad man seems to tower over you, by the way you can smell him, by the way his forehead practically touches yours.

You take a deep breath, furrowing your brows and doing your best to collect your thoughts despite the fog that the moment seemed to create in your brain. “Do what? Save your ass?” You spit, instantly regretting the harshness of your words, even if he deserves them.

“You weren’t supposed to leave the ship.” He’s stern, his voice somehow punishing. “You were supposed to stay here with the kid.”

You shake your head, feeling far too much like a child caught playing in the front seat of their parent’s speeder. “You needed my help! You would’ve died out there without me! And I can handle myself,” You yell, trying to ignore how you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against yours. “If this is about risking the kid’s life, I promise you I wasn’t. I would never put him-,”

He cuts you off, “I know you wouldn’t, that’s not what this is about.”

What? You think to yourself, confused beyond belief. If this wasn’t about the child, then what could this possibly be about? “So then what’s the problem?” You ask, more aware of the way that Din is holding you against him now than you were before.

You can hear Din inhale deeply through the modulator. “You.” A shudder rolls down your spine. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.” There’s still an edge in his voice, but he’s calmer now, almost pained, as if considering your death in some dark corner of his mind.

“Sorry that my death would be such an inconvenience for you,” You say sardonically. “It’ll be hard trying to replace me with some other force-wielding wizard that’ll be willing to babysit for you, since clearly that’s all I am.” You wanted the words to sting him, to hurt him, and maybe they did, but it felt like a punch in the gut to simply think them. You wanted to grab the words from where they still hung in the air and shove them back into your mouth, to swallow them so that they could burn in the acid of your stomach.

Din tilts his head down, crushed, defeated. Your heart winces. Fuck. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” His stare finds yours again, and you quickly look down at his shoulder, too embarrassed to have him look you in your eyes.

You shake your head. “But Din, that’s the problem,” You say, somehow finding the courage to meet his gaze. “I don’t know what you mean. How am I supposed to know what you mean if you won’t kriffing tell-,”

“Fucking hell, I don’t want to lose you!”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

Din looks around the hull, as if the words he was searching for were hiding, wrapped somewhere around its silver walls. “I can’t lose you. And before you ask, no, it’s not because you train the kid or whatever the hell you think it is.” You can feel the pain in his voice, guilt quickly filling your gut. “It’s just…” He trails off, silence hanging heavy in the air.

“Well…what is it?” You mumble, struggling to force down the lump in your throat. You wish you could see his face, to get a sense of his expression, an inkling as to what he was really feeling.

“You,” He says, as if those three letters held some secret, omniscient being or meaning. To him, they did. It was you. You were the thing that kept him up at night, the thing that made him want to show every facet of his being for the first time in his life.  “You’re reckless and careless and sometimes you drive me absolutely insane.”

You scoff. “Wow, what a glowing review of my services!”

Din shakes his head. “You don’t fucking get it. You’re so much more than that, because even though you drive me crazy,” He pauses; the modulator picks up his breath as it catches in his throat, “I know I’d never be able to spend an entire lifetime without you in it.”

You’re speechless. An entire lifetime? “Din I-,”

“Close your eyes.”

“What? You just said all that and you want me to close my-,”

“Just close your eyes. You trust me, don’t you?”

Of course I trust you, smart-ass, You think to yourself. So, you do what he says, shutting your eyes firmly. Then there’s a hiss, and then something clunks loudly against the floor. And then…

It’s warm, and soft, and smooth, and all those other perfect words someone would use to describe the perfect kiss. He has a mustache under all that metal, and now you know, because it tickles ever so gently just above your upper lip. His hands squeeze your hips just a bit tighter, pulling you further into his chest.

His lips press deeper into yours, hungrier. You keep your eyes closed tightly, your hands sliding up and into his hair, combing gently. He moans into your mouth at the touch as he guides you away from the shelf and towards his cot.

“D-Din,” You stutter in between gasps.

“What is it, mesh’la?” He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead.

You can feel the heat pooling at the bottom of your stomach, but there’s something stopping you, something telling you that there’s no possible way this could ever be real, that it wasn’t a set-up, that it wasn’t a dream. “Do you really want this?”

“More than anything.” You can hear the smirk in his voice, and you silently wish to yourself that you could see it. “Do you?”

You nod, repeating his words, “More than anything.”

His lips find yours again, his knee nudging in between your thighs as he pushes you down onto his cot. He’s on top of you now, his hands on either side of your body. “Wanted you for so long…” He whispers in your ear. “Wanted you this whole time.” Fuck, he was going to kill you.

Din presses sloppy kisses into the crook of your neck, leading up to your jaw. His hands stretch under the hemline of your shirt, his fingertips gliding across your stomach and towards the edge of your bra. You shudder as he reaches underneath, slowly inching towards your chest.

Something was changing within him, and that something was you. You made him want to throw his Creed away, to ignore all he had been taught his entire life. How could you ever possibly be something he shouldn’t have? He needed you.

More than anything. And you needed him.

“Please,” You beg. “I need you Din, please.”

And just like that, something within him finally switched.

“Open your eyes, cyare,” He’s so quiet you almost miss it. His fingers dip underneath your bra, rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger teasingly before doing the same to the other. “’Want you to look at me when I make you come.”

Panic rises to your chest. “W-what, are you sure? What about the Creed, what about-,”

“It doesn’t matter, not if it means I can’t have you.”

You wait a moment, giving him time to change his mind, but he doesn’t. You let your eyes flutter open, his curly hair and brown eyes flooding your vision. And Maker, there’s that smile, the smile you’d only heard through laughs and sarcastic, snide quips. You swear your heart skips a beat, maybe even two. He was perfect. Of course he was fucking perfect.

“You’re beautiful,” You whisper, your hands finding their way to his cheeks, his neck, your fingertips carefully running over his lips. His forehead rests down on yours, his eyes closing softly, reveling in the intimacy.

Din lifts himself off you and makes his way down your body, settling in between your legs. His fingers hook the waistline of your pants, tugging them down and throwing them somewhere in the hull. He feels your core through your soaked panties.

“So fucking wet for me, pretty girl,” He coos, practically ripping your panties as he pulls them down your legs. “Need to taste you.”

“F-fuck, Din,” You breathe sharply as his tongue laps at your clit, your hips lifting off the mattress. Din presses an arm across your hips, keeping you down against the cot, his free hand spreading your slick, teasing your entrance.

“’Tastes so good,” He rasps, his voice vibrating deliciously against your core. “Doing so good for me sweet girl.”

His mouth sucks harshly at your clit, taking the small bundle of nerves into his mouth, lapping at you like he was starving. You wanted more, needed more.

“N-need you, Din,” You whine, your hips fighting against the arm that held you down. He pushes you down further into the mattress, his mouth pressing even deeper onto your core.

“Not done with you yet,” He grunts, pushing two fingers into your entrance, pumping in and out, fast and hard. You could feel yourself growing closer with each thrust.

You moan his name like it’s a prayer, and in this moment it is. “Din, please, I, just…” But you can’t finish your sentence. It’s all too much, his fingers, his tongue, his voice, him. He was everywhere and everything all at once. And yet you needed more.

“Use your words, sweet girl,” He says patiently, nonchalantly.

“I want…” Your words fail again. “I…need you to f-fuck me, please.”

But he doesn’t stop, he keeps going. “I said I wasn’t done with you yet.” You could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers, teetering just on the edge.

“I’m so close,” You pant in between ragged breaths.

And then, abruptly, he pulls away, leaving you cold and empty. Before you can even think to sit up or reach out for him, he was back, his hips resting against yours, his pants and armor now somewhere scattered to the side. You could feel his cock throbbing against your inner thighs. He lines himself up with your entrance, teasing you.

“Din,” You whimper. “Plea-,”

He buries himself inside you, cutting you off, stretching you out. “So fucking tight,” He praises, pulling all the way out before thrusting back into you, filling you up again. “So soft, so perfect.” His fingers find your clit, circling the nerves roughly.

His forehead rests on your own as his left-hand searches for your right one. His fingers intertwine with yours just above your head, keeping you from drowning, cementing you there with him. It all feels so good, each pump, each circle at your clit. You can feel your walls clenching around him.

“Taking me so well,” He soothes, rocking into you. “Such a good girl.” It was all too much, his words, his cock.

“I-I’m gonna-,” You choke, white heat flooding your vision. You know Din isn’t far behind, his hips stuttering against yours.

“Come for me, sweet girl, that’s it,” Din moans, sending you over the edge. You feel yourself shattering underneath him, falling apart into a million pieces, only to be put back together again. His name slips off your tongue as he comes inside you.

His hips roll slowly against yours, gently rocking into you a few more times before pulling out.  

He shifts a bit so that you can comfortably lay on his chest. After all that, there’s only one thing you can think about.

“You wouldn’t be able to live without me?”

You look up at Din. His smirk stretches into a smile. He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I wouldn’t, no.” He says it so matter-of-factly, so simply, as if it was common knowledge. “I need you. I always have.”

“I need you too.” He was the only person you had ever needed, the only exception. You didn’t need to tell him. He knew. Always has, always will.

You are the only exception

You are the only exception

And I'm on my way to believing

Oh, and I'm on my way to believing

[fanfiction4sooya]

Kitty cat (Hybrid Julie x Fem!R)

I am in love with kitty Julie, bye bye. Hope someone likes it! 💖💖

cw: angst, mentions of forced breeding, obviously g!p Julie, she can't properly speak, unprotected sex, creampie, slightly angst, attempted fluff, not really proofread;

Of course you didn't think that rescuing an adult hybrid was going to be too much work you were a vet after all. All your friends had hybrids as pets, and they all turned out fine so why not?

You rescued her one day after the police did an operation to arrest the owners of an illegal breeding clinic, made with the sole purpose of reproducing and selling rare breeds of animals.

She was beautiful and rare, a bengal cat hybrid; a lot of people tried to adopt her but she was very reserved and could get aggressive towards other people except for you, her vet.

It took you no time to fall in love with her personality and you figured it would be better to take her home than to leave her at the shelter.

.....

"I know they didn't give you a name" She was looking up as you dried her fluffy ears. "I'll name you Julie, how about that?" You asked her. Her eyes glimmered and she smiled, her fangs shining in the bathroom light.

"Julie" She repeated. She knew how to speak, but not very coherently since she wasn't encouraged to due to where she was raised. "Julie likes that" She risked that, hugging your waist.

"No, baby" You said softly. "You must say 'I like that' " And that was the beginning of your life with her.

A few months had passed and you two adpated fairly well, except for one thing. Julie could get a little handsy from time to time. As a vet you knew it was due to the fact she was used to having sex a lot of times in a week because of the clinic so it kind of became one of her basic and primal needs and of course you tried the best you could to help her.

You tried mating her with a lot of other hybrids but she would blantaly refuse, often dismissing your attempts and even hiding from them whenever you brought them over to your apartment. You noticed her getting more and more agitated, a bit angrier or grumpy whenever they left but she refused to talk.

After one more failed attempt she locekd herself in her bedroom for hours, refusing to see you.

"Julie..." You soflty knocked on her bedroom's door. Of course you gave a bedroom and spoiled her rotten, she was your beloved hybrid and you deeply cared for her. "Baby"

"No, go away" She said.

"I am not going, please let me in" You pleaded, not hearing anything anymore. After a few seconds you heard her door click, which it could only means she opened it up for you. "Thank you" You said, carefully entering her space.

"What?" She crossed her arms under her breasts, her sharp eyes analyzing your features. She wore a black t-shirt and a white pair of boxer briefs. You tried not to look at the bulge visbly present.

"Can you tell me why are you so angry, baby?" You sat at the edge of her bed and she nodded 'no'. You sighed, defeated. "Julie, in order for me to help you I have to know what's going on my darling kitty" You scooched a bit closer, touching her face and she bit her lips, eyes wattering.

"You..." She tried to say but she couldn't find the right words.

"It's okay, you can say it in the way it feels more comfortable to you" You assured her and she nodded.

"there where I was" She started, looking down. "They gave Julie others to mate... Julie didn't want that" You held her hand with one hand while carressing her fluffy ears with the other as they were pushed back. "You did same" She sniffled and your heart sank.

"I..." Slowly you realized your mistake. You really did the same.

"Julie likes you, not other cats" She said, still visibly hurt. "You want julie with others"

"baby, no..." You hugged her. "I am sorry, it wasn't my intention at all" You truthfully told her and she sniffled against your shirt, clutching hard to it. "I only wanted you to release some energy, I swear" You spoke into her hair, calmly grazing your hands up and down her back to soothe her. "I am so sorry, kitty. I promise I'll make it up to you. I am sorry" You repeated as she sobbed, her ears twitched with each sob of hers. It broke your heart to see that.

Slowly she started to calm down enough to fall asleep, softly purring against your neck.

You spent almost an hour with her on your lap, thinking of another way you could help her without making her think you wanted her to do the unspeakable things she used to at that fiflthy place they kept her at. You thought over and over of her saying "Julie likes you, not other cats" And the thought alone made you shiver, shaking your head.

"It's the only way, I think" You said to yourself and she purred louder, vibrating against your chest as her arms held you tighter. You closed your eyes too, giving yourself to a much needed sleep, thinking of dealing with that in the morning.

And well, the morning came.

You were woken up by something tickling your neck and well, something poking your ass too.

"Julie?" You whispered but she didn't respond. You felt her heavy breath against your neck and you tightened your thighs against each other, gulping. You held your phone enough to see her reflection, she was asleep. "Cute" You said to yourself, biting your lip when her hard cock pressed harder against you.

Slowly, you turned around.

She was frowning hard, her fangs showing a bit. You could feel how tense she was and it made you feel sorry for her. You pushed yourself up a bit, reaching for that frown and kissing it, inhaling her scent. Still asleep, her hand reached for your waist and her strong arms pulled you closer to her body, making you inevitably straddle her waist.

You felt the need to grind against her hard cock but you held yourself because of her uncousciousness. You kissed her cheek, nudging against it and finally she opened her eyes, taking a deep breath when she looked down to your thighs on each side of her body.

"Please, let me help" You said. Her frown soon turned into an obscene demeanor, her gaze sharp and attentive.

You sat down on her waist and straightened your back, pulling off your shirt to show her your bare chest, since you slept with no bra on. You did the same to Julie, your breath hitching as she bucked her hips up, her hands firmly holding you to do it again and you soflty moaned, falling foward and completely at her mercy.

You brushed your nose against hers and she smiled, her fangs shining in the morning light.

"I'll make love to you" You said caressing her face, noticing her expression. "Tell me if you need to stop, I-" But she interrupted you with a kiss.

She knew what she was doing, her tongue swirling against yours felt divine. Fuck, maybe she was better at this than you.

She sat down with you on her lap, quickly discarding your shorts and her boxer briefs, her erect cock lightly slapping her own abs when she did so. It looked big and veiny and well, about to burst.

You knew she needed this and you wanted to take it slow because you wanted to truly make love to her but she was eager and neglected for so long, you couldn't wait any longer. You teased your own entrance with her thick cock and she growled, closing her eyes.

"Shh, it's ok" You cooed, slowly sinking on her.

"Fuck" Julie said, her eyes literally going from their normal brown to pitch black. You felt like she was going to rip you apart but it felt so good you couldn't hold yourself any longer.

Rolling your hips against hers, you felt how deep it was in your womb, the pleasure overshadowing the pain.

She attached her mouth to one of your nipples, slightly scratching it and you hugged her shoulders, moaning loudly. You felt your pussy clench around her and she grabbed your hips to bounce you up and down.

"Mine" She said, pushing you to lie on your back as she covered your body with hers in a mating press.

"Julie, fuck" You closed your eyes as she licked your lips, her tongue exploring yours. Her thrusts felt animalistic and heavy and you felt yourself melt when she hugged your body against hers, her face going to the crook of your neck to bite and suck there.

The thing is: Julie wasn't designed to stop. Not when she felt her load about to explode inside of you. It was her instinct and you knew that. You let her.

"Gonna breed you full" She thrusted hard, knocking the wind out of you. Her moans felt like music; Sinful, delicious. The wet sounds louder and louder because of how much cum she put inside of you as you came on her thick lenght.

You felt spent but not her.

She threw you around like a rag doll, pulling you to put your ass up and face down. You whined when she entered you again, squeezing your hips against hers.

"God" It was all you managed to say. "Julie, slow down baby" You tried to say but it wasn't loud enough due to her moans and the loud skin slapping sounds you two were producing.

You could feel her adoring every bit of your skin, squeezing and scratching to mark you, her cock throbbing.

"you feel so good" She slowed her thrusts just a tiny bit, losing that hard pace once ovesrtimulation hit her. You took that opportunity to push your upper body up to stay against hers, moving your hips as she embraced you, her right hand guiding your hips against hers as she kept ramming inside of you, slipping her cock all the way out and then back in, moaning for you.

"julie is gonna cum again" She said, biting your shoulder and closing her eyes, going full stop so her cock would spurt cum again and again against your walls.

You two were left panting, embraced. When she pulled out you felt her heavy cum oozing out of you, thicker than usual because of how many months she spent without fucking anyone.

You turned around to kiss her, straddling her hips but avoiding contact with her overstimulated and semi hard cock.

"Am I forgiven, kitty?" You asked and she purred, denying. "Oh, no?" You bit your lip and she kissed you again.

"It's gonna take more for julie to forgive you" She cutely said and you nodded.

"Okay baby, let me keep making up to you then..." You lowered your lips to her perky tits, licking it and she caressed your hair, purring loudly.

You definitely wouldn't mind making it up to her over and over again...

[blurryface-never-left]

@prince-steele for that letter thing you're doing for the boys! I just woke up, so I hope this is coherent lmao. I tried to proofread it, but if you find any mistakes, will you fix em before giving it to the boys? 🥺 Thank yew

To my favorite band,

Words can't completely describe the massive impact you and your music have had on my life. I've experienced some terrible moments in my life that led to my brain trying to convince me that life isn't worth living and made me too scared to leave my own home. I was a hermit, barely passed school, and refused to enter the working world. I felt as though I was too incompetent to participate in society successfully. One of the few things I looked forward to in life was your music. Fast forward several years, and I'm now 5, almost 6 years into my job, being the longest running employee at my workplace. I've learned to drive, I can run errands on my own, and I managed to get myself my own car.

Your music was always there to remind me to continue. To push until I can make it. To remind me I'm not the only one. Even in my happier moments, I still find solace and joy in your work.

I look forward to the music you'll make in the future. I pray that one day, I'll get the opportunity to see that music live for the first time. Until then, I'll be supporting you from way out here in the vast fields of the midwest. Having my fingers crossed, you'll come through the nearest city!

Love you, Nova ||-//

[louislovesmilk]

Every time I see people on ao3 and twitter passing around each other’s fics like yearbooks I don’t get to sign, I get positively green with envy

I want your themes and theories, who’s centre stage, what’s going on, what deeply held upsetting things are you working through with it :)))

Is it hopeful is it scary is it hot? Is it silly is it weird? is it a secret sixth or seventh thing?

Do you have any really banger single lines or little snippets of situations you can’t stop thinking about?

I want to know

The kind of things I write down in jot note form but don’t post are like

- extremely tense upsetting barely coherent sex and relationship negotiations (like it’s just strings of dialogue and you have to really theatre of the mind what’s happening and putting stage directions in would make it bloated and clunky, at least if I tried to do it)

- religious trauma that’s just this side of too personal, like after a certain point you can really tell I’m not talking about Taerae anymore

- watery fix-it things where they get so flowery and sappy and stupid that it makes me embarrassed to re-read them. Like I’m smashing dolls together and they keep finding different strange ways of thinking ‘I love you’ at each other

Beta reading other people’s stuff is my favorite thing in the world, my friends in highschool and uni used to ask me to proofread their essays before they turned them in and I’d end up catching things that even the writing centre and the TAs didn’t. I once pulled an all nighter to finish my own essay so I could run over to my friend’s dorm and help her with hers when we were in the same class. I take grammar and spelling so seriously I was an undiagnosed autistic prodigy If you ever see spelling or grammar mistakes in my own work know that that they are intentional for effect. I used to get work refused in middle school bc the teacher thought my vocabulary was too big, that I must be plagiarizing.

I’m shit at doing it for my own work bc it’s inherently embarrassing but I live for combing through someone else’s work and editing and spit-shining and making an already amazing thing into something resplendent.

My friend got a higher mark than me on that assignment, she hadn’t fleshed out her idea and so I told her about mine and we riffed on it and I added it in, as I was doing it I realized I was making it better than mine but I did it anyways bc I love her.

^^that could be you!

[write-ur-wrongs]

Nature’s Nurturing Ways

Hi y’all! This pandemic has really taken the wind out of my sails these past few weeks (maybe months? Time is completely untraceable right now). This piece is born out of a lovely anon’s request, bolded below. As always, I haven’t proofread this mess, so please forgive the typos! I’ll do my best to correct them post-publishing. I seriously can’t thank you enough for taking the time to send me your ideas, and I promise I’ll get better at writing actual drabbles LOL. I hope you enjoy :) 

Hii can you write something abt Geralt being w a plant-based reader where she loves animals and nature? Tysm

_____________________________________________________________

Geralt and Jaskier had been travelling for hours when the beating sun finally wore them down. There hadn’t been a breeze in days and the hot, stale air was starting to suffocate the uncharacteristically quiet bard, who wouldn’t dare compete with the surrounding cicada’s symphony.

“Geralt,” he rasped, “do you hear any running water? Drips or gurgles? I’ll take anything.”

“Jask, it hasn’t rained in days and it’s hotter than the depths of hell,” the Witcher sighed before continuing, “I said no yesterday, the answer is the same today.”

“Euughh!” Jaskier threw his head back in despair before hanging his head in exhaustion. “Geralt, I don’t want to be dramatic -,”

“Ha!” Geralt twisted in his saddle to look back at his friend with a quirked brow.

“- but I will fall off this horse and die of exposure if we don’t find water soon.”

Shaking his head, Geralt knew that despite the bard’s tendency to embellish, the situation was getting dire. They’d traveled this way dozens of times before and had always relied on the steady creek that ran alongside the trail for water. The region wasn’t known for dry spells and while Geralt was sure he could manage either way, his companion on the trail was not so durable.

They wouldn’t arrive at their destination for another three or four hours, at his level of dehydration and with probable heat exhaustion, Jaskier might not have that much time.

With another gruff sigh, Geralt pulled back on Roach’s reins and redirected her off the road and into the forest, turning back to ensure Jaskier’s horse would follow.

Geralt knew that there was a small clearing off the road where the thick leaves from the old trees made a lush, and shaded, canopy. He’d been there before a handful of times. It’s where he shared a tender first kiss, where he’d laid his head on Y/N’s chest before falling asleep feeling the cool, lush, grass cradling his large frame. It’s where he first said I love you.

Shaking his head slightly to pull himself from his memories, he dismounted and grabbed both sets of reins, leading the horses into farther the clearing. Once they’d reached the middle of the small field, Geralt released Roach’s lead and gave her a neck a scratch before leaving her to graze.

“Come on Jaskier,” he said, reaching into the gelding’s saddle bag for some food, “get off your horse and lay down in the grass.”

The bard fell out of his saddle with a thud while Geralt continue to root around the bag, huffing as he kept coming up empty.

“Did you eat the last of the cheese?”

“Mmpft,” Jaskier replied incoherently, face down in the grass.

“Hey –”

“Oi! You kicked me!”

“Where is the food? We had bread, cheese, and meat left over last night. Did you fucking eat it all?”

“No, you oaf,” he said, rolling over onto his back, “we ate the rest of it this morning.”

“Fuck!” Geralt cursed under his breath, pulling his hair up off his neck to cool off. He could barely remember what they’d done earlier that day. The heat had been unbearable all evening, and the rising sun only made it worse.  

“Don’t worry about it Geralt! No need to apologize for accusing me so harshly.” Jaskier said, words dripping in sarcasm.

Geralt merely looked down at the bard with disdain and rolled his eyes, refusing to admit the sun might be affecting him too.

“Shut up and take off your shirt –”

“Oh-ho!” he laughed weakly, wiggling his eye brows at the witcher. No matter how beaten and battered the bard may be, he’d never miss an opportunity to tease Geralt.

“No, Gods! Fuck,” Geralt went on, flustered, “the grass will cool you down a hell of a lot faster if you’re in direct contact. And besides, Y/N will kill me if I let you die of exposure.”

“Always so serious, eh Geralt?” Jaskier chided playfully, pulling off his tunic before laying back down onto the grass, “Oh-ho-ho-ohhhh yes… Sweet merciful goddess of all that is good, this feels amazing! Yes, yes, yes!”

While he was sure the bard was still mumbling gratefully, and disgustingly, at the feeling of the cool grass against his skin, Geralt’s mind was elsewhere. Somewhere in this clearing, wild heliotropes had bloomed and the sweet, almondine scent was pulling him into a memory.

“Geralt! Witchers use herbs, mushrooms, and flowers in all kinds of magic,” you said, your hands resting high on your hips, “I find it incredibly hard to believe that in all your years and extensive travels, you’d never learned to forage?”

“All my years, eh?” he’d replied, cat-like eyes gleaming back at you.

“Well of course,” you teased, “I mean, unless you mean to tell me that silver head of hair is a choice born out of vanity?”

“I’m going to make you pay for that later, Y/N.” He laughed, taken aback and a little impressed that you felt so comfortable with his mutations as to mock him playfully.

“Ha! Me and what coin?” you reply with a light laugh, bending over to collect the generous mushrooms growing through the bed of leaves and needles.

Geralt turned his head towards you to hit you with a winning comeback, but found himself lost for words when his eyes failed to meet yours.

You get up slowly, peering over your shoulder to find your witcher’s eyes on your backside. Smirking to yourself and quirking a brow flirtatiously, you toss a handful of dirt and wet leaves his way, hitting the poor soul right in the chest.

“Distracted, Geralt?” you said, tossing your hair over your shoulder as you straightened up.

Geralt swallowed thickly, desperately trying to string together at least a couple words – witty at best, coherent at least – when he heard a twig snap in the surrounding forest.

Quick as a flash, he drew his sword and his attention towards the source of the disturbance, a large boar. Chest already swelling with pride at the thought of providing you with a hearty meal, Geralt prepared his attack on the creature before him.

Seeing that the “threat” in question was nothing but a passing porcine, you dove before him with a shout, dropping the mushrooms on the way. Your scream coupled with your sudden movement startled the beast, and it dove deeper into the brush to escape.

“Geralt, no!”

“Damn it, Y/N,” he swore, “I could’ve had it! We could have had a decent meal! We – we would have been set for days!”

“No, Geralt! We have food, right here in this clearing. We needn’t take lives from the forest to eat.”

“Gods, Y/N,” he sighed, dropping his sword to the ground in frustration, “do I need to remind you of the cycle of life? Creatures live, they die, and they get eaten so others can live –”

“Yes, and by leaving that gentle giant to its ruminations, we’ve allowed it to go on, to feed its young, or hell! By leaving that boar to live, we might have secured a lifeline for a fellow wolf or fox. Geralt look around you; mushrooms, flowers, these thick leaves, those berries? You see that tree there? At its roots there are nuts, and over there? Those flowers? Means there is garlic. The forest will feed us with ease if we simply care to drop our weapons, and look.”

Geralt looked at you and with soft eyes, he took in the way your eyes burned with passion, the way your chest rose and fell with every energized breath. He looked around you and really looked at the plants around him, beyond scanning for any toxic or dangerous herbs, he did his best to see the forest through your bright eyes.

Looking at you he felt his chest swell once more, but this time the feeling was warm, grounding.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said quietly, pulling you into his arms, “so, so much.”

You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. You knew he loved you. You had known for months, but you’d made peace with the fact that he loved you however he could, and that that would have to be enough, even if it meant you wouldn’t hear him say it.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet dove,” you murmured, reaching up to lay a soft kiss on his forehead, “I love you too.”

Geralt was wrenched from his thoughts by a swift kick to his shin, courtesy of the bard.

“Shhht!! Geralt!” Jaskier shout-whispered, still kicking at the witcher’s shins. “A deer! A d- dinner! Food! Geralt!”

Side-stepping out of the bard’s frantic little kicks, Geralt looked around him in a quick movement, spotting the deer with his hand primed above his sword’s hilt.

The world seemed to go quiet and still when his eyes met the doe’s. Despite himself, he could hear your voice in his head telling him that she’s a young, vibrant member of this forest’s population. That at her age, she’s likely a first-time mom or about to be. That she has more life to live and more to give to the land than be a poor man’s meal.

Jaskier watched in hungry-horror as Geralt waved his large hand at the creature, turning his back to it before looking down to meet his shell-shocked gaze.

“What the fuck, Geralt!” he spat, “what happened to “Y/N would kill me if I let Jaskier die”? What the fuck! That was food! Survival!”

“You’ll be fine Jask, shut up and lay in your grass.”

“As long as you don’t make me eat it.” He grumbled, not quietly enough.

A laugh rumbled through him as he walked towards to forest line, spotting thick dandelion leaves, mushrooms, and bushes ripe with nuts. He might not necessarily need to feed Jaskier the grass beneath his feet, but he was going to make him eat his words.

***********************************************************************************

“There you are my intrepid explorers!” You damn near squealed at the sight of them, dropping your basket of recently-purchased produce as you ran towards them.

At the sight of you, Geralt dismounts and runs to meet you in a tight embrace. You hold each other tightly, breathing in each other’s scent; his cedar, damp earth, and cut grass, and yours sweet almond.

You pull back just enough to look him over quickly and, spotting no fresh injury or new scars, pull your brows together curiously.

“Did you get lost?”

“Not at all,” replied Jaskier, clapping Geralt on the shoulder, “You’d be impressed, madam Y/N! Our dear witcher made quite the feast. Pulled me right out of the greedy jaws of death, he did!”

“Oh?” You said, brows furrowed in a silent question. Knowing what you meant, Geralt shook his head and kissed your temple to reassure you.

“Picture me this, Y/N,” Jaskier mused as he untacked his gelding, “I’m wilting away, inches from Death’s grip, and Geralt sweeps me under a lush canopy of trees and lays me in the grass…”

“Lays him in the grass? Should I be jealous?” you whispered.

“Never my love,” he replied softly, his forehead against yours.

“… then our honorable friend bid the deer a fond farewell, letting him get away! Yes, Y/N, there I lay, starving, thinking the sun must have cooked the sense right out of him when he marches out of sight only to emerge moments later with a bounty!”

“A bounty?” you mock-gasp, egging the bard on to Geralt’s great displeasure.

“Yes! We ate like kings in that forest, Y/N. All we did was eat but I felt hydrated and renewed! Truly a culinary delight.”

“A delight, Geralt!” you giggled, giving his waist a squeeze.

“Gods, won’t he ever shut up?” he grumbled, ghost of a blush creeping up his collar.

“Oh hush, my love,” you cooed, “without Jask’s bragging, I’d have never known what a big softy you’ve become.”

Wordlessly, Geralt looked down at you in mock-contempt, unsure that this wasn’t a veiled insult. He was instantly reassured though, when his eyes met yours.

“You left the deer.”

“I did.”

“And you foraged, found just what you needed.” You spoke softly, admiration and love rounding your features out beautifully.

“That’s right.”

“Now where did you pick up skills like that, my dove?” You chanced another tease, twirling a lock of his white, dust-packed hair around a finger before giving it a light tug, your head cocked to the side.

“Oh, I had an exceptional teacher…” he said, wrapping an arm tightly around your waist and bringing his other hand up to cup your face, pulling into a deep kiss.

[satanwritesfanfiction]

Title: Cicero lives to serve

Ship: Cicero x f!reader

Triggers:  only smut and the absolute cringe I experienced by proofreading

Characters: Cicero, f!reader

Wordcount: 1922

a/n: idk man, hope you enjoy the den of iniquity-

***

Bodies against one another, gasps, moans.. a piece you'd not exactly voice as the thoughts turn in tune with the hand desperately working between your legs.

You had pictured him, as inappropriate as it may have been, it wasn't the first time either. You pictured him behind you this time, hand locked into your hair and using your body as he wished. He would pull you flush against him and whisper obscene things against your skin before biting down and you'd cry out.

These thoughts would on occasion bleed over into reality as you'd audibly voiced your frustrations and ecstasy, being away from the sanctuary so much, it has never quite been an issue, just something that brought a heat to your cheeks when you had been coherent enough to notice it.

You knew you made the mistake again and listened for any sound but nothing seemed amiss as your body froze and then, you continued, thoughts of his hand on your bare body, pushing and pulling and bruising in the most delicious way.

And then everything was brought back. "Cicero lives to serve." The voice came from outside your illusions and you froze, eyes shot open in fear as it went to the source.

You hadn't been dressed exactly decent with only the covers to hide some of your bare body. No doubts of what you were doing, hand almost knuckle deep within your warmth. You were flushed, heat burning on your cheeks, searing almost.

He smiled but you were unsure if it was his usual demeanor or a new grin at your predicament. Presumably caught with your most inner thoughts of him on the table, exposed.

You removed your hand from you and pulled the covers to at least cover some parts of you that were on display. "I'm sorry, Cicero, I didn't mean to-"

You were at a loss of words but luckily you didn't have to give more as Cicero spoke again. "Oh no no no, Listener. No apologies needed for dear Cicero. " He stalked closer and in this moment you felt like prey as his eyes were trained on you. "Cicero lives to serve." He repeated the phrase. "Listener should've told Cicero, Cicero is more than happy to help."

He leaned over, placing a chaste kiss to your lips and grinned. "Cicero will make it right, Cicero will take care of you."

This time when your lips met it was all fire, hand curling around your middle and pulling you to him as he hovered over your body. Your arms locked around his neck, barely processing as barely covered legs rested at the side of his hips.

He broke the kiss and for a moment he looked down at you, face unreadable and then he placed an open mouthed kiss to your bare neck and then your collarbone, pulling the cover from your body to reveal your breasts. Hands cupped your breasts harshly, a tongue flicking over the left bud while fingers teased the other, the tip of his jester hat tickling your skin as he moved. Sensation not of your own making, making you gasp into the night air.

Your eyes flicked to the ceiling as he moved lower, covers removed from your body and exposed to him completely. This couldn't be happening, it was too good to be real and still, you were terrified of your own actions.

"Cicero has a question for the lisener." He hummed, your thoughts were jolted back to reality as he spoke. "Did listener think of Cicero like this, between the listener's legs."

When his tongue made contact you gasped for air, him licking a line through your folds while he held your hips down. His eyes were trained on you and then he pulled away slightly.

"Answer the question." He spoke but it felt less like a command than the words would suggest.

"Yes." You said, cheeks burning as a hand clasped over your mouth as if it would stop the confession from reaching his ears.

"Then Cicero has something to live up to, hmm?" His lips closed around your clit, he sucked softly and then flicked with his tongue. He removed his one hand that had a vice grip on your hip and placed it at your entrance, pushing a single digit in slowly and watching your body give way to the new sensation when he pumped leisurely within you.

He added another finger and then another, pumping into you as his tongue played with your clit. Not long before it all came together and snapped, your cunt convulsing against his fingers that were still pumping slowly inside you as the world came back to you.

When he pulled away he licked his fingers clean, sitting on his knees while you were sprawled out on the bed, breathing heavy. You bare as the day you were born and him still fully clothed including the now slightly crooked jester hat with a certain hardness pressing against his pants just below his abdomen.

You bit your lip as you got onto your knees, hands working to rid him of his shirt. You were shaking a bit to which he wrapped a hand softly over yours to halt your actions. You looked up at his eyes and he wasn't grinning anymore. There was a faint smile but it was a look you couldn't decipher. Your heart pounded against your chest as you wondered about the reason he would stop your actions. Perhaps this was just serving your needs and nothing beyond the duties he has for the Brotherhood and your title as listener.

Your mind recoiled, feelings clashing against each other inside you. Pleasure and pain mixing into something toxic until the reason for him stopping presumably reared its head as he quickly rid himself of the jester jacket.

Your mind slightly agape as you were faced with skin you had never seen before, a chest covered in scars from his past as an assassin and from a time more recent when you had refused to take his life.

Your fingers softly ran across the lines on his chest, muscle and scars alike, and he allowed you that moment. If not for you then certainly for himself. It had been a very long time since someone had seen so much of him nevermind touched him so delicately, furthermore, that person was you, his listener.

Cicero had been so taken by you, the intelligence and strength. Someone to be feared and admired, it was an odd throught to him that everyone didn't praise the ground you walked on like he would. You were all these apposing qualities meshed together into something otherworldly. Strong but soft, killer instinct but caring... Perfect.

You looked into his eyes, pressing your bare body against his as you kissed him deeply. Unsure hands rested on your hips and then experimentally roamed your back until a hand tangled into your hair giving him the ability to keep you flush to him as your body rocked softly against his with the motion of your lips working against each other.

He broke the kiss but still held you close to him. Your hands moved towards the pants he was still wearing to which he pushed you closer to him to halt your actions.

His eyes closed momentarily and from this close you could see the clench of his jaw. It was a few moments before he looked back at you. "Is the listener sure this is what the listener wants?" His voice was less high and a bit cracked at the end.

You nodded and he let go of the hold he had on you only to push you back against the bed. He quickly rid himself of his boots and then the rest of his clothing including the jester hat. He hovered over you, nothing in between the two of you now, bare as the day you were born.

He pressed a kiss to your lips. You felt something blunt press against your core and then his hips moved, running his cock up and down your folds as he groaned softly. The slight friction was electrifying but not quite hitting the spot.

"Cicero.." you pleaded, voice barely above a whisper.

"Tell me what my listener wants. " He purred, placing a few open mouthed kisses to the side of your neck.

"Please.. " you breathed, eyes closed as different sensations teased you but was just short of enough. "I need you inside me."

A grin spread across his lips and he pressed another kiss to your temple before fiddling between your legs, taking hold of his cock and lining up to your entrance. He pressed slowly, cautiously filling you up. You bit into your palm  as your body gave way to the new sensation, a slight sting but not unpleasantly so.

"Cicero wondered.." he breathed as his hips slowly moved in and out as your body gave way. "What it would... Oh, be like... thoughts don't compare.. to this. Close.. So tight.. wet."

His thrusts turned sharp, body screaming with each thrust of his hips, filling you so deliciously. Your breath had been stolen and soft cries for the jester falling from your lips as praises left his.

Nails dug into his shoulders, bed groaning with every thrust. Your memories, your illusions, none could compare how he played your body now. The angle of his hips, the power behind his thrusts, the way he spoke when he said you were being so good to him, it all pushing you further and further until you were right on the edge.

The grunts of 'listener' echoing inside your mind as legs wrapped around his hips. The new angle elicited a new cry that originated from deep within, involuntarily. Your nails dug into his back as you felt your release crawling ever closer.

"I-I'm close." You breathed, eyes clenched shut  you tried to hold onto the world around you.

"Come for me, (Y/n)." He grunted against your skin, delivering an especially powerful thrust before pressing your lips to his in a quick kiss.

You gasped as the words reached you. A name, unimportant from anyone else but coming from him it felt so intimate and raw. Special. You cried out, back arching as you let go, jumping off the edge into the sweet waters that waited below. Muscles tensed impossibly, making it hard for Cicero to move and then your body relaxed around him.

The tightness of your body pushed him impossibly further, another few sharp thrusts and he stilled buried inside you with a groan. You felt warmth spread inside you as he came. Chaste kisses were pressed to your heated body as he held your bodies in place. Neck, collarbone, shoulder. Featherlight, his lips moved as you caught your breath until he pulled himself from you, small sounds falling from your lips when he did.

He laid down beside you, head held up by the elbow he had planted on the bed as he looked at you, grin playing on his lips. "Did Cicero serve the lisener well?" He asked, fingers softly running across the skin on your stomach and drawing elaborate patterns there.

A soft blush scattered along your cheeks as you giggled softly. "Yes, Cicero."

He nodded and there was silence for a few moments before the movement against your stomach stopped. "Listener should let Cicero know when the listener requires.. assistance. Cicero is more than happy to help."

You smiled. "I'll remember that." You said and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

[scintillasofbeomgyu]

winter in itaewon || Choi Beomgyu

Pairing: Choi Beomgyu x gamer!fem!reader

Genre/s: Fluff; Angst; Humor (if you squint)

Word count: 5,0k

Warning/s: it is implied that reader was subject to violence (once); although it says the reader is a gamer, there are not that many references towards to actual gaming lmao; this was proofread like once (😭)

Hyunjin and Jeongin take Beomgyu out to the PC Room in Itaewon for his birthday; a year after their last visit. As he reminisces the events of the year before, every corner of his mind is revisited by her — as if he were capable of forgetting her anyway.

a/n: happy beomgyu day!!💞 the inspiration to write this hit me in the middle of the night, coming from these kickass headcannons by sumi, and it's completely different to the initial idea i shared with amie sksjsjs alsothislowkeysucks. nevertheless, i hope you all enjoy!!

12 March 2021, 23:30

Despite being embraced by his thick padded coat, the freezing air still managed to disrupt the warmth in annoying, sharp gusts every time the wind blew. Itaewon was always more alive while the rest of Seoul slept soundly, and tonight was no exception. The streets were aglow with the lambent signage of the many stalls and establishments which lined it’s pavements, and were filled with clusters of people who either visited the stores, window-shopped or were simply enjoying the night-life.

Beomgyu wasn’t very enthusiastic about joining Hyunjin and Jeongin when they had initially posed the idea. He’d been spending much of his time in the studio and practice room, so the plan was to get some sleep when he had some free time. His conscience eventually got the better of him, though – he hadn’t been able to meet up with his friends in months due to work and the pandemic, and his scheduled birthday live thwarted the possibility of holding it off until the following day.

“Are you good?” Jeongin asked, pulling Beomgyu out of his thoughts, arching a brow at his dazed friend. He noticed that he had been lagging behind the two of them, and that their features were now etched with concern. Beomgyu pushed the bangs out of his face before waving them off, mumbling that he’s okay.

There was a look in their eyes that Beomgyu couldn’t quite decipher, but pushed it off as nothing when Jeongin draped an arm over his shoulder and lead him further down the street. His feet stopped squarely when they made it to the PC Room, cementing themselves before the front door. Jeongin looked at Beomgyu and smiled.

“Are you coming in?”

It wasn’t that Beomgyu didn’t want to respond, he simply couldn’t. Sure, it may have seemed like a trivial thing to answer, the words just wouldn’t formulate coherent sentences – his mind didn’t have the capacity to make them. Her. That was the only thing it could manifest. Her. 

The pressure of a years-worth of his bottled emotions had finally blew it’s top – thoughts, images and memories which had been ingrained into his subconscious coming forth to hit him like a train.

“We’ll wait for you inside, then.”

31 December 2019, 22:00

Laughter ringing through the air, Hyunjin, Jeongin and Beomgyu pushed open the door to the PC Room. Beomgyu stopped at the door while the other two signed in, arms rubbing away the remnants of snow on the arms of his black coat. Removing his mask, he smiled into the warmth of the heated building. Their schedules after debut had left no space for any recreation, so it was liberating to spend New Years Eve with his friends, doing what he does best.

“Ready to have your butts kicked?” Beomgyu cackled, with his whole chest, as they took their seats next to one another in the isle, earning him much-deserved glares. As soon as he’s logged on and the headset is donned however, his usually playful demeanour is replaced by one of a much calmer nature – studying the map, observing enemy tactics and carefully directing his support as his fingers glide skilfully across the keyboard.

Hyunjin groaned after the umpteenth attempt to beat him, dropping the headset onto the desk as Jeongin whined into his hands. A smirk rolled onto Beomgyu’s lips as he leaned back into the swivel chair, flashing his brows at them. “I refuse to believe this is possible, it’s got to be rigged!”

“Ah, after all this time I’ve still got it,” Beomgyu retorted, chuffed with himself for doing as well as he knew he would. Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if I ranked first with the amount of times I kicked ass on this server.”

Jeongin, who had taken it upon himself to do the fact-checking, smirked at the screen before calling the two of them over. “Actually–”

Beomgyu screamed in frustration, tossing the headset onto the desk before pushing against it, sending him flying across the floor in the chair. No matter how hard he tried, no matter the strategy he just couldn’t beat the player in first place. The commotion startled the other two, who had fallen asleep waiting for Beomgyu to finish up, the satisfaction of witnessing his losses long past.

“Just one more game, I swear!” he whined as they dragged him away from the PC screen.

Hyunjin seethed, “that’s what you said three hours ago! No, we’re leaving. Jeongin’s parents have been waiting up for us.”

Beomgyu huffed at the front counter. While the older took care of the bill, he found that the room was completely empty – almost. The light emanating from a desk directly across from where he stood, lit up the face of a young-looking girl. She seemed to be in high school (that’s what the uniform she wore indicated atleast) and the big, round, metal-framed glasses settled on the bridge of her nose, mirrored the computer screen. The sight pacified Beomgyu, for a reason he couldn’t quite explain, a smile stretching across his face.

He sauntered closer, eyes searching around for nothing in particular, trying not to look like a creep as he approached you. His smile only grew when he found her eyebrows knitted together, teeth biting down on her bottom lip in concentration. And then he saw it. The graphics reflecting from her glasses seeming all to familiar to him, he rushed around the desk, eyes darting to the top corner of the screen.

ID: winter996

12 January 2020, 22:30

Beomgyu’s foot tapped impatiently as he waited at the desk closest to the entrance, checking his watch every few minutes, before running a frustrated hand through his soft silvery locks. He had finally gotten the chance to visit the PC room again, most of his time having gone into practice and rehearsals for award show season, and he wasn’t leaving until he saw you again.

He ran out of the practice room as soon as he heard that they would have the following day off; he was exhausted and had been waiting for almost two hours – but he refused to leave until he saw you again.

The owner noticed the boy sitting at the desk he usually reserved for you, lips curling at the sight of the fidgety youth. He had visited on three prior occasions; once with his friends, and the remaining times himself, sitting in exactly the same spot he was now sitting. Instead of chasing him away as he did everyone else, he simply waited to see how this turn of events would unfold.

You pushed open the glass doors with a huff, adjusting the strap of your backpack on your shoulder before blowing the stray hairs from your face. Keeping your eyes fixed on the ground beneath you, you nod to the owner and he returns the gesture with a smile, although he knows you won’t see it.

Beomgyu, who had almost surrendered himself to the fatigue, sat up straight when you pulled back the chair next to him. He watched as you scrunched up your nose in attempt to push your glasses up the bridge of your nose before putting the headset on, and chuckled softly.

He watched in awe as you cleared level after level, climbing the ranks as you went along, with seemingly no effort whatsoever. You kept the mic off and communicated with your group though the chat, which was probably why he never realised you were a girl. Your strategy seemed way too complex for him to understand, and his amazement never faltered for even a second, as you dominated each and every position you played.

It was a little over an hour before you decided to take a break, wondering where the owner was since he usually brought your snacks around that time. Pushing the headset around your neck, you stretched upward to see where he was, only to find yourself roughly pushed back down and turned toward a strange boy whom you’ve never seen before.

His eyes, sparkling with absolute wonder, coaxed your surprise and made your heart race with a feeling as unfamiliar as he was.

“You have to tell me how you do that! Teach me, please, Winter996!”

25 January 2020, 22:30

“Aren’t you supposed to be at practice?” you voice rang from the speaker of Beomgyu’s phone. He never questioned your reasons for not turning your mic on during the game, but insisted that you speak directly to him instead. “On your left, be careful.”

“I know, I see them. And yes, but I have some time before the next session starts.” After much pestering, about something having to do with ‘senseis’ and ‘disciples’, you agreed to let Beomgyu play with you. He was rather beside himself when you told him you never really used any strategy, though; you ‘just did what felt right’.

An adorable smile had tugged at your lips during his three hundred-and-fifty paged slideshow about the importance of strategy and observation, one he would not soon forget.

“You could just wait until Itaewon.”

“Is it my fault you only go when your rank drops?”

Soobin’s dark head of hair popped into the studio, and he glared upon finding Beomgyu tapping away at his laptop on the sofa. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! The break as been over ages ago–”

“(Y/n), (Y/n), go, go! I’ll cover you!”

“Beomgyu, I think–”

“You’re playing again?! With a girl?!”

5 February 2020, 22:00

You’re quieter than usual and Beomgyu noticed right away. Over the phone, you never had any qualms in conversating with him– when you were playing the game, atleast. The thought that it was because of him does cross his mind, but he catches the frown you’re desperately trying to hide, by biting the inside of your cheek.

A thick scarf is wrapped around your neck, your chin buried into the red woolly folds, and your hair frames your face,  but he sees the light swelling on the side of your face and around your eyes that you’re trying to hide. The feeling in the pit of his stomach makes his nails press crescents into the palms of his hands, but he fights the urge to ask.

“Beomgyu! What are you doing! They’re coming!” you yell, pulling him back to reality, hearing the sound of your voice at long last calming him a tad.

“Right, sorry.”

You played together straight through into the early hours of the morning, sharing victory after victory, with him right by your side. You froze up when he instinctively pulled you into a hug upon your last win, gulping as he slowly removed his arms, laughing it off as his adrenaline high peaked higher.

The van’s horn blared outside, catching you both off guard. Beomgyu quickly grabbed his coat before making his way back up the way he came, but paused before he opened the door. Craning his head back to look at you once more, he smiled.

“I’ll text you later.”

12 February 2020, 23:30

Beomgyu’s hands move quickly across the controls, your voice shouting orders to him through the headset as the current game hit it’s climax. Playing with Beomgyu all the time had made you a lot more comfortable with engaging with the other members of your group, so although you were still pretty anxious at first, you made the decision to turn on your mic.

“We did it!” Beomgyu cheered as your team cleared yet another level.

Gaming was something mundane to you and winning was easy; but sneaking out to the PC Room from time to time helped alleviate the pressures of your personal life. The life which you would rather die than share with Beomgyu. But after being swayed by his nonsensical attempts at convincing you, logging onto the server had become your favorite thing to do.

Every victory felt extraordinary when shared with him, and you could have sworn that at that very moment, you could see the way the ends of his eyes creased as the edges of his lips pushed up his cheeks. The way his arms would be stretched up in happiness, as his intoxicating laugher filled the air.

On the other end, Beomgyu leaned back into his desk chair, smiling into the darkness, envisioning the way you’d be pretending it was no big deal whilst your eyes sparkled with happiness and a smile dug into your rosey cheeks.

“Hey, (Y/n)?”

You hummed into the mic, your head rested on the desk and your eyes closed, just listening to his voice, savoring every second of it.

“Do you...have a Valentine or something?”

14 February 2020, 18:00

From the moment the car pulled up down the street, Beomgyu was unable to take his eyes off from you. His eyes travelled up from the scuffed white sneakers which tapped against the pavement nervously, to the washed out jeans, to the oversized cardigan, which bunched up around the wrists of your hands, which shifted between nervously tucking your hair behind your ears, to pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose, to straightening out your outfit.

You were going to be the death of him.

He hurried toward you as soon as he saw you shiver. The sound of his soles against the wet concrete caught your attention and you turned in his direction, the look in your eyes nearly resulting in a fatal blow – the way they bewitched nearly had him hitting his head against the sidewalk.

Your hands tightened around the strap of the bag slung around your shoulder as you watched the dark-haired boy make his way down the street to you, a stupidly giddy-looking expression plastered across his face. You couldn’t stop yourself from feeling the way you did about Beomgyu – even though you knew you shouldn’t.

You were never really interested in fan culture, but some of the girls in your cram school were very invested. When you heard them gushing about a group called ‘Tomorrow X Together’ and it’s members the previous afternoon, a knot formed in your stomach. The first thing you did when you got home, was do research. You decided to listen to all of their albums and watch all of their music videos, interviews and content videos. Unsure what to do with all the new-found information and conflicting emotions, you pulled the covers over your head and tried to sleep instead. But you couldn’t.

Beomgyu flicked the side of your head, bringing you back to the present, and your cheeks flushed upon realization of his proximity. He smirked, wrapping his brown scarf around your neck. “It’s still winter you know, Winter. You should dress warmly.”

You clicked your tongue and pouted at his teasing use of your in-game alias, and marched off without him. He trailed behind you, laughing and relieved that you were no longer frowning as you were before. You froze when he caught up with you, feeling the warmth of his hand as it slipped into yours, tucking it into his coat pocket. Burying your face into his scarf, which smelled just like him, you smiled giddily, letting him pull you along with him.

He took you to dinner and the amusement park after that. He was thrilled to know you liked rollercoasters as much as he did and embarrassed to know he couldn’t even beat you at the kid’s games. He ended up going home with a truckload of new plushies, and you, with ever-increasing feelings that you had no idea what to do with.

28 February 2020, 23:42

Beomgyu burst through the doors of the PC Room no longer than 10 minutes after receiving a call from the owner. He still wore his sleepwear, over which his coat was thrown, his hair was disheveled and his bare left foot was stuffed halfway into a sneaker, while his sock-wearing right foot was slipped into a black slipper.

The owner, with worry painted across his features, cocked his head to the desk where the two of you usually sat. His heart ached at the sight of your curled up figure beneath it. Your bloodshot eyes widened when you realized his presence, the surprise enabling him a few seconds to examine you up and down before you turned away from him. Your bottom lip was cut and bruised, your cheek was swollen and bruises were littered across your face and the length of your arms and neck, your hair as messy as his was.

You insisted that you’re okay, even though he took you into his arms without asking anything at all. You insisted that you’re okay, but as his warmth enveloped you, tears began streaming down your face. He felt the way your body trembled in his arms, so he begins rocking you back and forth slowly, pressing soft kisses into your hair, whispering a single phrase over and over again.

“I’m here.”

4 March 2020, 19:00

Due to the pandemic, one of the award show ceremonies the boys were supposed to attend had been cancelled and moved to a later date. Worried that they’d feel disheartened about their performance, you decided to host a little award ceremony of your own. His friends were as welcoming as he was, so you quickly got along- even more so since Beomgyu stuck even closer to you since that day.

“The first award of the evening,” you announced, clearing your throat in the middle of the living room. The boys, who were cheering your on from their seats on the dorm sofa, quieted down as Yeonjun hushed them, gesturing for you to continue, “goes to a very versatile young man. The winner of the ‘Fourth Generation It Boy – In Everything Except Braincells’ Daesang, goes too, you guessed it, Choi Yeonjun!”

The rest erupted in laughter as an exasperated Yeonjun made his way to where you stood, empty wrappers crackling under his feet. He threw a glare at the boys before he bowed before you in the most formal way possible, and you handed him the pretty mediocre, handmade certificate, before enamored laughter spilled from his lips.

Soobin received an award for being the ‘Best Leader of the Greatest Global Shookies’, to which he sighed. Taehyun received the Grand Award ‘The Best Son, Our King, Vocalist Kang’, which the rest labelled unfair and favoritism. Kai received the ‘Gotta Hit That High Note Like-’ award, which he proudly accepted with absolutely no complaints, beaming at the poorly made certificate.

“And last, but not least,” you started, peaking at Beomgyu from the corner of you eyes, determination almost faltering at the sight of his anticipating countenance. Peering down at the clipboard in your hands, you frowned, “well, I guess that’s all we have for tonight, folks-”

The sound of their hearty laughter filled the dorm once again, Yeonjun nearly toppling over the armrest of the sofa. Beomgyu nodded, tongue in cheek, clearly bothered by the whole ordeal. You joined in on the laughter, before glancing back to the clipboard, your heart rate picking up a little.

“Oh, what’s this?” you feigned surprise, “We have two more awards left! To Choi Beomgyu,” you said, pausing to steady your breath, refusing to make eye contact with him, “goes the award for ‘The Most Annoying Amateur Gamer-” laughter once more, Beomgyu joining in this time, “Best Friend and Utterly Talented All-rounder’. And lastly, to Tomorrow X Together for ‘Best Group of All Time’!” you cheered, relieved that they all got up and cheered as well, without teasing you.

Beomgyu took your hand and slipped the certificate from the board. You may have been embarrassed at the self-proclaimed ‘lousy’ attempt at decorating his certificate, but within seconds, that sheet of colored board became the most important thing to him in the world - his most prized possession. He pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, and the rest all joined in without a second to spare, endlessly praising you and expressing their affection as you giggled in response.

Later on that evening, after you left and the others were fast asleep, he laid on his bed, limbs splayed across the comforter. He sighed dreamily up at the ceiling, bringing his hands up to cover the bashful grin playing on his lips. He turned his head ever-so slightly, and peeked through the spaces between his fingers at the certificate perched on his night-stand and sighed again.

What was he going to do with you.

13 March 2020, 20:00

You pushed aside everything that had been happening in your life to be happy on your best friend’s birthday. You were convinced it was the least you could do in return for everything he did for you. Deciding to host something small at the PC Room, the owner was pretty enthusiastic to make a contribution to the happiness of his ‘favourite patrons’, you invited his members and some of his closest friends.

Although Beomgyu would have loved to spend the day with just you, he was extremely grateful to know efforts you had made to make him enjoy his day. You had been chattering away with the owner at the front desk, but somewhere amidst conversation with Taehyun, he had lost sight of you. He frowned, apologizing to Taehyun before excusing himself.

Ready to grab his coat and leave, he stopped in his tracks when the lights were shut off. Slowly, the room was illuminated once more, by the flickering flames atop birthday candles, and the enormous smile across your face as you sang, “happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,...”

The cake, in the shape of a bear and embellished with chocolate decorations of every variety, was placed on the table in front of where the rest had seated him. Eyes not once leaving you, absolutely entranced by your beauty, Beomgyu gulps, his heart racing a million miles an hour.

“Make a wish, before the wax gets onto the cake, Dummy.”

He pulls his lip between his teeth and flicks the top of your head gently, chuckling softly, before clasping his hands together and closing his eyes. For a reason unknown to him, Beomgyu couldn’t think of something to wish for. No, rather, he knew exactly why he had no idea what to wish for. He opened his eyes once more, and grinned at your anticipating face, the pining in his chest only running deeper and deeper.

He blew out the candles.

“What did you wish for-”

Beomgyu grabbed your hand and pulled you with him as he ran out onto the wet Itaewon streets. You didn’t run too far, before he pulled you into one of the alleyways. Completely lost for words and a little out of breath, you stood there, staring at him. The same puzzled look you had given him when you first met is etched into your face and his lips curl upward. Your breathing hitches as he takes a step closer to you and he pushes the rain-soaked hair from your face, eyes flitting to your lips before meeting your eyes again.

He pulled your chest flush against his and it was quiet for a moment. Quiet, save for the sound of the rain pitter-pattering across the rooftops and the alley floor; quiet, save for the sound of your thumping hearts.

“I love you.”

He feels you tense up, so he tightens his embrace. There is a silence again, and it is a lot less pleasant than the first. The sound of your sniffling alarms him, so he brings your face to meet his, his heart aching at the tears dripping down your face. You start making attempts to break free of his hold, shaking your head and him, whimpers escaping your lips every time you tried to speak.

Tears now streamed down his face too, a piece of him torn away each time you pushed him away. Beomgyu fought desperately to keep you in his arms, but before he knew it, you had slipped right through his fingers.

“I’m sorry.” was the last thing he heard you say through persisting sobs, before you disappeared down the street, without a trace.

30 June 2020

Beomgyu smiled before the cameras and press, laughing along with interviewers and staff members like it was the easiest thing in the world. 

You had been missing for over three months. You blocked his number. You didn’t log onto the game, someone else had long taken your position on the leader board. After composing himself that day, he had bolted after you, but it was as if you had vanished off the face of the earth. Beomgyu stopped by the PC Room as much as he could in the following days, his condition only worsening each time he did, but due to the growing numbers of positive cases and the increasing amount of work scheduled for him, the time he spent there was limited.

When he did go, he sat in your chair, staring at the front door until he had to leave. The owner, who had been watching him in sympathy, called him up to the desk one day before he left – the last day the owner saw him. He looked sleep-deprived and downcast, the same pained expression drawn into his features every time he left.

“She... came here a lot. I think her first visit was around the time she was in middle school. She never spoke much, and never seemed to have any friends,” The owner told him, looking out to the isles of computers in front of him, before turning back to Beomgyu. “The first time I saw her talk- no, the first time I saw her smile, was with you. She liked you...alot.”

Beomgyu sighed, with a short, hollow chuckle.

“I know.”

12 March 2021, 23:55

The room was empty and dark when Beomgyu finally walked in, eyebrows knitted together as he tried to see through the darkness. He tried calling out for Hyunjin and Jeongin, but the only replies he received was the wind rattling the window-blinds.  

The flickering of candles illuminate the room, just like they did many months ago, and Beomgyu’s heart stopped. He tried to not look disappointed when it turned out to be his members with Hyunjin and Jeongin carrying the cake, singing happy birthday to him with the most excited expressions on their faces, but his throbbing chest betrayed him.

They brought the cake up until where he stood and Yeonjun arched a brow, a knowing smirk rolling onto his lips. “You really do have a wild imagination, don’t you? Ow!” he cried, when Beomgyu hit his arm. “Ugh, just make a wish already.”

Beomgyu clasped his hands tightly before him and squeezed his eyes shut, just as he did before. Only this time, he knew exactly what he wanted. The subject of his pining, worry, and love. Her. He would give anything to see her, just one last time.

And when he opened his eyes, that was exactly what he found in front of him.

“Happy Birthday, Choi Beomgyu.”

The lights went back on, and Beomgyu blinked repeatedly, making sure that it wasn’t just his mind playing tricks on him. But there you were, with tears brimming your eyes, in all your glory, the love of his life. 

He takes in all the little changes, like your trimmed hair, and that fact that you seemed to have lost weight – which made him frown. And then there was that smile, that dazzling smile, which only seemed to shine brighter now than it did before.

Your hands tremor a bit, the way he just stares at you making your heart leap. “I-I’m sor-”

The cake hit the floor with a plop, eliciting laughter from the others as he wraps his arms around your figure and he reels you into his arms in one swift movement. You feel his tears soak into your blouse, and you hold onto him tighter, your eyes already wet from your own tears. You were finally with him – you were finally home.

The owner gathered everyone together for a photo towards the end of the celebration, Beomgyu following suit wherever you went, refusing to let go of your hand for even a second. You offered him a loving smile when Hyunjin teased him for it, and placed a soft kiss to the back of his hand.

Beomgyu lead you up to the rooftop to see the sunrise, momentarily letting go of your hand to flush your back against his chest, before grabbing hold of it, and the other hand, again. The bright orange and yellow rays peeked from behind the mountain in the distance, and you had never felt more at peace.

You recalled the way your chest tightened and the way tears burned at the corners of your eyes upon receiving his confession a year ago. You had been so happy. So, so happy. But you knew you could not accept him. At the time, you knew that you were in no place to be with someone like him. He was, and is, too wonderful for someone as messed up as you are. You didn’t want burden him with your issues, not when his career had just taken off.

“Beomgyu?” he hummed from where his head against yours, “I love you.”

You stepped away from his embrace, giggling when you noticed the way he pouted. Your turned to face him properly, before attaching your arms around his waist. “Back then... I was in a really bad space. It’s not excuse, and I certainly shouldn’t have run away from you. I...have gotten help ever since, and I want to tell you my story. Would you like to hear it?”

He leaned back and thought for a moment. He then cupped the side of your face with his hand and ran his thumb across your cheek, before pulling you in to press a gentle, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Whatever you’re willing to share, I will listen to and accept with open arms. I love you for who you are; and that includes everything that has shaped, and will shape you into the amazing person I already know you are.”

“That includes the way you absolutely kick my ass at gaming.”

[the100thtwilightmaze]

Warmth (Sam Uley)(August 8th, 2020)

ummmmmmmm hey yall. this is my first imagine in a LONNNNNNGGGGGG TIME. like I'm talking maybe two or three years 😬 AND LET ME START BY SAYING I AM SORRY THAT IT'S SO LONG but I was on a roll and didn't want to lose it 😂 thank you to all my followers that stayed and a BIG THANK YOU to the anon that sent this in for getting me back in the writing game. I love all of you so much and I hope yall enjoy 💓💓💓

The whole Sam leaving Leah for Emily thing where? Leah and Emily are still thick as thieves because all my ladies deserve happiness.

(and I had to give my girl Leah some extra happiness because there's nothing about her finding love)

(I already know there are probably some proofreading errors I missed! sorry!)

You hadn’t laughed this hard in years. The source of your laughter, being illuminated by the flames of bonfire, continued with his onslaught of jokes.

You had come to the beach to breathe. The stress of your job had begun to wear you down. You just needed one minute of quiet and basically threw yourself onto the sands of La Push’s beach.

Your barefeet were dug deep into the sand with your hands to match, eyes closed when a shadow fell over you.

You cracked one eye open to see a young boy standing over you.

“Sorry about this but they sent me over here to see if you were okay.” he said, pointing over his shoulder at group further down the beach surrounding a fire.

“Oh, yeah. I’m okay. Just a little tired.” you replied, throwing a wave to the group.

“Well, you can come over to hang with us if you want. We really don’t mind and you’re kind of depressing us to be honest.” the young boy offered.

That caused you to chuckle.

After taking the job in Forks, it had been difficult to make new friends. All of your coworkers had years of knowing each other on you so you were left taking lunch breaks by yourself and always being the last to leave.

So, yeah.

Meeting new people wouldn't hurt.

“If you’re sure.” you replied, standing up and dusting the sand off of your ass.

And that’s how you found yourself doubling over in laughter.

Sam Uley. You found yourself gravitating towards him immediately. Finding a seat next to him, you teetering on the edge of a water beat log.

You’d all been there for hours, the night growing pitch black dark when you all decided to finally call it quits.

You had already swapped numbers with all the members of the group (you kind of just wanted to get Sam’s but you couldn’t make it obvious).

"Hey, Y/N! We'll be back next week. You better be here!" Leah had yelled over her shoulder, trotting back to the parking lot hand in hand with her girlfriend. The two looked happy.

"I think you should listen to her." Sam said, casting you a sideways glance. The two of you trailing the two women back to your respective vehicles.

"Is that so?" you countered.

"Oh, yeah. Trust me. You don't want to get on Leah's bad side." he chuckled.

The two you of you had made it to the emptying parking lot now, coming to a slow halt by your car.

"And is Leah the only one that wants me to come?" you inquired, your confidence overshadowing your nerves.

Sam gave you a sideways smirk and you could've sworn you saw a tinge of red coming to the surface of his cheeks before he cast his gaze downward.

"Definitely not." you heard him whisper.

That caused a chuckle of your own which caused his eyes to meet yours once again.

And then he took a single step closer. His whole body being just that much closer. You could feel his warmth from here.

His face inched closer to yours.

Your eyes closed, bracing yourself.

And then you heard your car door open.

"Be careful, Y/N. There's a storm coming."

*********

The next few months were filled with your new found friends. Each week bringing you closer to all of them, your workplace problems long forgotten.

You were happy. You were so happy you were glowing, radiating with a newfound joy.

That was until today. You had gone to the the beach for your usual meet up with the group, the cookies you baked still warm in the tupperware in your hands.

But you found no one.

You had called. You had texted. But no one replied.

Not Leah.

Not Paul.

Not Seth.

Not Emily.

Not Sam.

You had driven to the Clearwater residence. If the group wasn't at the beach, they could usually be found here.

But nope once again.

Your knocks, just like your calls and texts went unanswered.

You were growing frustrated.

It had started to rain, quickly going from a light drizzle to a downpour.

You waited out the storm on the Clearwater's porch hugging your jacket closer to you, trying to shield yourself from the rain.

10 minutes.

15 minutes.

20 minutes.

The time ticked on. No replies to your calls/texts or your continuous knocks.

But the universe decided to take pity on you, maybe finally deciding that enough was fucking enough.

The rain had eased up. The sun deciding to make its appearance.

"Thank, God." you muttered, making your way back to your.

But movement at the treeline caught your eye.

You moved closer. You knew it was dumb. You had seen the horror movies and cursed at the the protagonist whose movements you were now copying.

But your curiosity was piqued.

It was Paul.

It was Paul being yelled at by a very pissed off Sam.

You had never seen him like this. He was trembling, the muscles in his back taut underneath his reddened skin. His words, inaudible to you, were continually being viscously thrown at a uncharacteristically quiet Paul.

And then thunder clapped.

And there was no longer Sam Uley.

It was a wolf. A giant wolf but a wolf nonetheless. Jet black and still very angry.

You had started to ease back now, your mind reminding you that this wasn't a horror movie and you were not an actress.

If this thing decided to kill you right now there was no body double to take your place. It would just be you.

Fucking dead.

Your trembling hand found the trunk of your car with an audible thump.

Thunder clapped.

The wolf's eyes met yours, widening with surprise.

You had started to move back to your driver's door, trying to make no sudden movements. You pulled on the handle to find it locked, your doors automatically locking after a certain amount of time.

You pushed the unlock button repeatedly, only to be reminded that your remote battery was dead.

You refused to take your eyes off the wolf who had taken a couple of steps closer to you.

Tears were streaming down your face.

Your hands were trembling viscously now.

Your breath coming out in short bursts.

"Y/N!" you heard Paul call to you, running towards you.

Your fight or flight instincts kicked in.

Flight won.

You gave up with your war on the door handle, your hands shaking too much to be of any use.

You tried the Clearwater's door again.

"Mrs. Clearwater! Please! Help me!" you screamed, pounding on the door.

Someone grabbed your arm from behind, turning you to face them.

"Y/N, breathe." Sam urged, his large hands coming to cup the sides of your face.

His eyes.

They were the same. The same eyes that you had looked into for the past seven months. The same eyes that you had fallen in love with.

The same eyes as the wolf's.

You were frozen. Your mind confused, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Sam, you're scaring her." Leah said, coming into view prying Sam away from you.

Together, you walked through the front door.

*******

You had stayed with Leah for the next few weeks, choosing complete silence for the first few days. Not eating. Not drinking.

Leah was patient. She let you sleep in her bed. She got you to eat. She soothed you and assured you that you were okay. And most importantly she kept Sam away.

You could hear them arguing from your place under Leah's cover every night. Sam begging to see you, begging to "explain". Leah arguing that you needed time.

But you couldn't do this anymore. You couldn't stay in this state of confusion. This wasn't healthy for your mental state. Your mind had been trying so hard to make sense of what you saw all those weeks ago.

A cult? Dark magic? Shapeshifters?

"Leah, it's okay. He can come." you croaked, your voice altered from weeks of minimal use.

Sam appeared at her bedroom door in a nanosecond.

He stood there, seeming almost afraid to move any closer.

"It was you wasn't it?" you whispered.

A moment of silence.

"Yes." he replied.

You had already known the answer but still let out an audible gasp at his answer.

"But you won't hurt me?" you asked, the statement coming out as more of declaration than a question.

"Y/N, I would never hurt you." he answered, slowly moving to take a seat next you on Leah's bed.

"Tell me everything." you implored.

And that's exactly what he did. For the next eight hours he sat across from you, telling you the tribe's history and legends.

The third wife.

Vampires.

Wolves.

Imprints.

He told you everything. And by the end of the night you had felt a peace you hadn't known in weeks. None of this should've made any sense but it made sense to you. Your questions answered. Your mind being able to rest.

You were both laying down now.

He was so close. You could feel his warmth.

"I'm sorry that you had to see that. But Y/N, I need you to understand that I would never hurt you." he whispered, his thumb trailing over my cheek.

"There's nothing that I wouldn't do for you. You ask it and I'll do whatever I can to give it to you. If you asked me to leave right now, even though this is the happiest I've felt since Leah took you away that night, I would. If you told me to never speak to you again, you would think I disappeared from the face of the planet. But I hope that you don't because.... I love you. And I know that this is crazy and that I turn into a giant, scary ass wolf that fights leeches and that you didn't ask for any of this....." he had started to ramble, his eyes shutting in obvious frustration.

"Sam Uley, shut up and kiss me." you interrupted, your body already gravitating towards his.

And when your lips met, that was it.

You were at peace. You were home. You were happy.

You were his.

[r3almellow]

Second Thoughts (Gavin x F!Reader)

Thanks to the anon who requested a second part to my Gavin x F!Reader fic Late Night Thoughts! Hopefully you enjoy this one! I tried proofreading this so many times, so I’m really sorry if there are any typos!

Warning: Slightly-Angstish

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Everyone knew about the “Bad Boy” of Loveland High. Not many dared to go against the infamous Gavin Bai because they valued their lives too much.

Gavin couldn’t remember where the rumors sprouted from, but if it got people to leave him alone then who was he to say anything? He didn’t have many interests and didn’t see the need to befriend the entire student body. What was the point when he knew he would never see ninety percent of these people in the future? Like most students he only wanted to finish his schooling and get the hell out of there. 

When it came to fights, he rarely started them. It was always people who felt threatened by him. The reason for that was beyond him, but he had no problem throwing a few punches if it meant he would be left alone afterwards. These beliefs made him seem disinterested, unapproachable, and straight up intimidating. You had to have had a few screws loose to want to befriend him. Which…in hindsight, probably explained why Minor was stuck to his side like glue.  

However, Gavin would be a liar if he said the rumors that floated around didn’t bother him a little bit. It was even worse when he came across you, the small nerdy looking shy girl who seemed too innocent and kind for her own good. Gavin couldn’t quite understand it at first, but there was something about you that immediately grabbed his attention. Was it the big rimmed glasses or the way your fingers effortlessly danced across the piano keys in the “empty” music room? He wasn’t sure. What was first a spark of curiosity turned into a full on crush. For the first time in Gavin’s life he was interested in someone. He wanted to get to know you. What were your interests? What was your favorite food? What made you happy? What made you cry? What kind of guys were you interested in? He wanted to know it all. All he had to do was take that first step and talk to you.  

Unfortunately, you were one of the many who were weary of him. He didn’t blame you. Who would want to talk to someone who got into fights constantly, had the school faculty cowering before him and allegedly threw another student out a window for “accidentally touching” a female student? In Gavin’s defense, it was out the first floor window and the grass probably cushioned the assholes fall. With rumors like that what girl would want to have anything to do with a guy like him? Despite all that you were always kind the very few times you two crossed paths. You even gave Minor a first aid kit in hopes to help patch Gavin up after one of his really bad scuffles.

You were so nice. He had never known such kindness before. His upbringing didn’t allow him to experience that and there you were throwing a smile at him when ever you glanced his way; before running off with your group of friends. You have no idea how much those smiles brightened his day.

Despite fearing him, maybe you knew that deep down Gavin wasn’t some misunderstood monster. Maybe you saw something in him that no one else saw. And maybe that’s why the boy who never cared to prove himself to others, grew into the man who wanted to prove himself to you.

And his hard work paid off years later.

When you agreed to be his girlfriend, Gavin was shocked to say the least. Sure you two had grown close since your reunion, but he never thought in a million years that you would have given him a chance.

After a year of dating, Gavin knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

He played with the idea of asking you out right a few months ago while your sleeping form laid in his arms. He remembered casually asking you to marry him and you mumbled a somewhat coherent “yes.” He knew you couldn’t comprehend what he was asking, but that didn’t stop his heart from almost leaping out of his chest. Gavin knew it was only a matter of time before he asked you. He just needed the courage to do it.

Marriage was a big step and while he knew you loved him, there was a lingering feeling of doubt. Love and marriage were two different things. You could love someone and not be ready to take that leap. What if you had no intentions of getting married? What if he scared you off? What if this was all a dream and the minute he got down on one knee you would be replaced with his father.

“You want a wife? A husband is the foundation of a family. The protector. How do you expect to protect your “wife” when you couldn’t even protect your mother?” His father’s words would echo in his head and suddenly marriage was just a fools dream. 

It was rare for his thoughts to travel to such a dark place, but they were there nonetheless. 

You needed someone who could protect you, be with you for every good and bad moment in your life, and most importantly make you feel loved. Despite his fears, Gavin wanted to be that person who gave you the world. 

He thought about how he was going to propose many times. It had gotten so bad that he had to enlist the help of Minor and Eli. Surprisingly, Minor was really good at throwing some ideas his way and Eli brought Gavin to ring maker who specialized in making custom wedding rings. He ended up walking away with the perfect ring which he’s been walking around with for the past three months.

Gavin almost had all the pieces, he just needed t-

“Earth to Gavin!” A loud feminine voice pierced through Gavin’s thoughts, bringing the man back to the present. His line of vision was quickly met with hands waving in his face and a slightly amused you looking at him.  

“We’re going to be late for the Policeman’s Ball if you keep spacing out like that.” Oh right. That was something he was supposed to be getting ready for. 

Gavin thought about asking you at the Ball. There was a nice gazebo behind the building he could take you to.  Although he’d rather not be surrounded by his colleagues, as he asks you the most important question that could be a turning point in your relationship. 

Even so, he had the box containing the ring in his back pocket just in case he was feeling spontaneous. 

“You know we could always skip it.” Not like they had to be there and Gavin wasn’t much for parties. 

You gave him a disapproving look. 

“Like we did last year because a certain someone couldn’t keep his hands to himself? No way!” 

To be fair, you were the one who initiated what led to an all night love making session, not that Gavin was complaining. He’d much rather spend the rest the of his night worshiping you than going to an event he had no interest in.

Ignoring his small frown, you turned your back to him, revealing your partially exposed back.

“Zip me, please.” Gavin heard you say. He eyed the zipper that stopped half way up your back and glared. Cursed thing. Gavin had half a mind to see if he could convince you to play hooky with him, but decided against it. 

He reluctantly zipped up your dress, earning him a quick kiss and “thank you” from you. 

You made your way over to the full length mirror to check yourself out. The long red dress that tightly hugged your body, showing off your curves in all of Gavin’s favorite places, was beautiful; but he would much rather look the gorgeous body hiding underneath.

“You think the food will be good?” You asked. That was probably your only concern for the night. 

Gavin shrugged as he made his way over to the nightstand in search for his cufflinks. Events like that always had drinks and finger food that was probably way too expensive than it needed to be. They were never filling either...

“Not sure. If anything we can grab something to eat on the way back.” He watched your eyes light up through the mirror at the idea. You were so cute. 

“Hopefully that hotpot buffet place around the corner will still be open.” You said with a happy sigh.

“Worst case, I’ll cook.” Gavin wasn’t a master chef, but he did pick up a few things once you two started dating. Out of the two of you, you claimed he was the better cook, but honestly Gavin would eat your home-cooked meals all day if he could. 

“You’re so good to me! Did anyone ever tell you that you’d make a good husband?” You jokingly questioned as you rummaged through the closet for a pair of heels.

Gavin wasn’t sure what came over him at that moment, but the next sentence that passed his lips would change your relationship forever. 

“Good enough to be your husband?” And just like that, silence filled the room. Gavin was prepared to smack himself. He was always straightforward and honest with his feelings, but now definitely wasn’t the time for that. 

Before he could backtrack and claim his question to be a joke you spoke out. The shakiness in your voice evident. 

“Do...do you want to be?” Your question surprised him, but it gave him hope. Hope that maybe just maybe...

“I do.” His voice was low, but with your refusal to look in his direction and the way your back tensed up he knew you heard him.

There was no going back now. No incoherent talks of hotpot weddings, no more ghosts of his past trying to deter him, and no more waiting. 

“If this is your way of getting out of th-” You paused mid-sentence as you turned to face Gavin who was currently kneeling  on one knee before you with a small box in his slightly shaken hand.

Suddenly Gavin forgot how to breathe. For the first time in a really long time Gavin was fearful as hell. So much could go wrong in this moment and not being sure how this was going to go was full on torture. 

This might not have been how you would have imagined a proposal from Gavin would be, but he hoped with every fiber of his being that this was enough. That he was enough. 

Gavin opened the box, revealing a beautifully crafted silver band in the shape of two ginkgo leaves, holding a diamond ring. 

“Will you marry me?” 

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Done! There were so many ways I wanted to go about this, but I hope this end result was to everyone’s liking. I feel like Gavin is a total sweetheart and while he’s pretty nonchalant about a lot of things he tries to do right by you. I also believe his proposal would be an accident. I actually have a n/swf proposal idea if anyone was interested in that. What do you think? Please leave a comment! Have a request? Drop me a message! You can also read my other MLQC works here!

[ikev-mpire]

ikevamp reaction to thinking mc died

note- 1st off I think you've probably noticed by now but I never proofread anything and I write all of them at different times so I don’t know if they’re coherent but bear w me plz and 2nd this ones really repetitive sorry ;-;

napoleon- when you were taken from him, dragged off in a battle he had no chance of winning, the scent of your blood soaking into the ground and the familiar pounding of your heartbeat gone from his ears, he knew you were gone. he was no stranger to loss, but this, losing you, was different. he screamed, fear filling him, and swung desperately, taking down the enemy in seconds but it was too late. your lifeless body had been thrown over the back of a horse and stolen from him already. he didn't dare allow himself to hope you were alive, but still he was determined to get you back. he needed a purpose to keep going, something to dedicate himself to if it were all he had. and at that moment, it was.

mozart- he wanted to believe that your heart was still beating, but he couldn't hear it. why couldn't he hear it? he started to run to you, but in an instant a sword was at your neck and he was forced to back off. if you weren't already dead, you would be if he took another step forward. his skin crawled with disgust as he glared at your attacker, the thought of his dirty hands touching you. his hatred wasn't loud enough to silence the shattering of his heart as your limp body was thrown over the man's shoulder and then he was gone. you were gone. he felt like he was losing his mind, this couldn't be real. he didn't sleep for days, constantly searching for you until le comte forced him to take a step back. you were gone.

leonardo- Leonardo was no stranger to loss, but loss of you, the only one he'd ever loved, was unfathomable. he wouldn't lose you if he had a say in the matter. unfortunately, though he ran to grab you, you fell faster than he could move and you were gone, off a cliff before he could stop it. of course, he knew the likelihood of you surviving the fall alone was slim, but he was immortal, so he dove off after you. it was too late though, the water swept you in different directions and he spent days looking, but he couldn't find you. the residents found to stay away from him because he was constantly irritated, even angry (particularly at himself) after losing you. they had never seen him lose his cool and they didn't want to, but they feared if they pushed him at all, they might. 

arthur- arthur was trained in medicine, he knew you were alive the second he'd found you, but you wouldn't be alive long without help. before he could help you though, he was restrained. chained by someone he didn't know, he was forced to watch someone take you from him, and something in him knew they weren't planning on saving you. he screamed in protest, fighting against the chains that for some reason held him all too well. weeks passed after he was returned to the mansion, and he never left his room. he lived in misery, looked a constant mess and felt one as well. he was sure he could never function again without you.

vincent- vincent was (barely) able to keep his composure, struggling against his restraints as he shouted for them to let you be, you had nothing to do with this. if he could only get out of those damn restraints, you would be fine but you were taken before he had the chance. he promptly returned to the mansion, alerting the residents of your state before going to hunt for you. he didn't return for days, but when he did, he was clearly distraught. all he found was a piece of cloth soaked in your blood, no other trace of you. arthur informed him that likely, you had lost too much blood. chances were that you were gone. he tried to act normal, but behind closed doors he didn't know how to function, and theo had to force him to drink rouge, otherwise he'd starve himself.

theo- it could've been said that theo lost his mind when he lost you. any bit of composure he might've held in the past vanished when you fell to the ground, the sound of a gunshot ringing out through the darkening alleyway. you were dead. he could feel it in the way your fingers dropped from his hold, the way the smell of your blood filled the air around him stronger than ever before and the way the sound of your heartbeat dulled it's thrumming beneath the sound of his blood boiling. and then he made the biggest mistake of his life. in his fury, he ran. he chased the culprit, tears burning in his eyes as he fan for revenge, only to be unable to catch them. when he returned to where he'd left you, finally realizing what he'd done, you were gone.

isaac- isaac was far from prepared to see you taken, bleeding, straight from his arms, but every muscle in his body still didn't prove strong enough to bring you back. whoever was out to get him had won, you disappeared right in front of his eyes and all he could do was run after you, never getting close enough to get you back. the logic in his brain kicked in, and he went back to the mansion to enlist the help of the others. Isaac refused to believe you were dead, even when he knew It was probably true, forcing himself to keep looking for what felt like years, even when the others tried to make him stop. finding you became his only motivation to keep himself healthy, though, so after a while the others stopped complaining and just let him do his thing. 

dazai- when arthur told him you were most likely dead, he immediately accepted it to be the truth. he couldn't bear to hope for any more. he knew he should've sent you home. you could never have been safe here. he began to sulk in his overwhelming guilt and grief, though trying to keep his normal facade on the outside. only, he rarely left his room anymore, immersing himself in writing stories about your experiences together to remind himself of you.

jean- jean was pessimistic, no-one could deny it, but when you fell off the cliff, a distance that was unlikely you could survive, he refused to believe you were gone. you were the first thing in forever that made him truly happy, he couldn't lose you and so even when he knew you were gone, he kept up the search. the others could see him spiraling back into his old ways of not taking care of himself, seeing him pale, dirty and in a daze when he came back to the mansion after being gone for days, but they could do nothing to stop it. he had made up his mind. he would stop at nothing until he found you. 

will- when you disappeared, his heart broke. he hardly knew how to handle the emotions that flowed through him, feeling like he was going to go crazy without you there, unharmed. he began to daze off, staring into nothing every time he thought about you, but he was able to act completely natural in front of people. at night, he searched restlessly for you in order to keep his composure. he would never get over you, never stop looking, but he'd never lose his composure either. 

comte- when he heard what had happened, you were injured, possibly killed, and taken from Sebastian on your way home, he was angry. angrier than he'd been in a long time, and the residents were rightfully afraid of him. he was minutes, one push, from losing it and resorting back to his old ways, but Leonardo fought to keep his friend under control while they searched for you. it was a personal attack, and Leonardo had no doubt that saint-germain would quite literally kill whomever had taken you, particularly if you were dead. comte was constantly hounded by fury, but he used it as motivation to find you, and he wouldn't stop until he did. 

sebastian- he didn't have the same abilities as the other vampires, he couldn't just hear whether or not your heart continued beating, but he had a general idea of how much blood was too much blood for a human to lose, and you had lost it. there was no way possible you were alive, and he knew it. he forced himself to go back to work immediately, sending jean, arthur, and napoleon to hunt for you because surely, they could do better than him. it didn't take long for him to overwork himself trying not to think about your absence, and le comte had to force him to stop. somehow, that only made him feel worse. under any normal circumstance, he would listen to his employer, of course, but chores had to be done, especially without you there to help. it came to a point where the only time he'd stop working was to sleep.

[jacobthespaceguy]

New life, new computer & new perspective.

I wrote this half a year ago and forgot to post this. Enjoy.

Dear Cosmonauts,

Greetings! It’s me, your boy! Did you miss me? No? Yeah, not too surprised. To be honest, I would be genuinely surprised if anyone actually read these. It’ll never stop me though. I love using this as some kind of escape. I think I’m trying to say that I’m officially back to blogging! Well actually, I never was in a state of, “blogging.” I just simply make a blog post every once in a while. So instead of being back, I guess I will simply start blogging more often. At the very least, try to. In an ideal world, I would create entries at least once a month, that’s not too much to ask for... just a few paragraphs every month. Sounds easy enough... On that note, it probably isn’t. But maybe it is. It depends on your personality.

Laziness. Saying laziness defines me is an understatement. I don’t want to be lazy nor do I wish I was. I’m honestly not too sure why I'm so lazy. I think this pandemic just made it really bad. Working from home 3/5 days of the week changes you. Early on, I figured I would be able to use this extra time to work on more music and I even started being a mixing/mastering engineer for a friend of mines. However, I ended up using this extra time to stay in bed and be useless. Some would say I'm being hard on myself but I'm not. I stay in bed and I waste my time, my friend's time, and overall, I'm just a useless human being. I feel like a failure sometimes. However, I do hold on to the hope that I can change. I want to change. Some days, I tell myself, "I'll be productive this time," but then stay in bed half the day. By the time I'm up and eaten breakfast and done my whole morning routine... it'll be 2 o'clock and the day is practically over. It's not really over, but it'll feel like it. It sucks. Now the pandemic is ending and I'll probably have to go back to work full time soon. I have no idea how I'm going to cope with that. I'm already depresso mode from things changing so much around me that I feel like a hermit and want to hide under my desk for the rest of my life. I hate change. I hate it, hate it, HATE IT. I know change is good and if my music career takes off, then they'll be a lot of change. Although, I would rather endure that kind of pressure than have to go back to work. Every day to get to my work is a 40-minute drive there, and an hour drive back since traffic is so bad. I know other people have it worse, but with how tired I am after a shift, I have days where I lay on my bedroom floor doing nothing and or nap until I finally get up to shower, eat dinner and finally get to the home activities I wanted to. However, at this point, it'll be 7 PM and I'm too tired to do anything other than watch YouTube videos until 1 AM, and then it's finally time to go to bed. It's a struggle and I can't seem to escape it.

I don't even know what I'm writing anymore and lost track of where I was going with this. I guess it's to complain about hating work and or my laziness? I originally started writing this post with the intention to talk about my new computer and how writing a blog post with it is a vibe. I bought a mid-2017 MacBook Pro back in August of 2019. It was the most absolute base model and only had 128 gb of storage and 8 gb of ram. WHY DID I DO THIS TO MYSELF! I loved the flexibility of having a decent laptop for when I travel, but this was a bad purchase that left me financially ruined. I want to say that it was a terrible machine and I hated it. However, it ran decently most of the time and I must confess that Apple just knows what they're doing when designing computers. I can't argue though, since I started this blog, I became an Apple fanboy and I'm seriously buried in the Apple ecosystem. My phone, laptop, tablet at one point but sold, my credit card, my watch, earphones, and tracking devices are all connected to Apple and they basically run my life. However, my main machine will likely always be a Windows desktop.

Back to the MacBook Pro, my 2017 laptop having 128 gb made the machine unusable for me. Apple offering a 128 gb machine was a cardinal sin and I do the happy dance every morning knowing they no longer exist. After downloading Reason and Logic Pro, I had about 8 gb for any else I wanted to use. I couldn't even have all of Logic's sounds installed. Ugh. I never used the machine because I resented it so much. However, I recently started using it to record my vocals because the fans (despite going up 1000 db when I record in Reason) were quieter than having my desktop fans on when recording so I opted to use my MacBook Pro to record instead. In addition, it was really nice to have when I was on the go and needed a computer. Despite being a baseline laptop, it ran the project file for my song, "Nothing Was The Same," decently enough for me to get some mixing done at my Dad's house late last year. It still chugged pretty bad when I was traversing through Reason's sequencer. My final straw was when I wanted to try a vocal plug-in that refused to work on my PC so I pulled out my MacBook Pro and installed it on there and it worked perfectly. I was like, "Man, I wish this MacBook Pro just had a little more storage so I can actually use it efficiently." That's when the idea came to me, "Holy crap, let's just buy a new MacBook."

I would constantly go to Apple's website and look at their newest 16" MacBook Pro. It's when Apple finally let go of the butterfly switches on their keyboard and went back to a scissor-switch design and improved the heck out of the performance. It was a beautiful machine and I wanted it ever since they announced it. So I went back on Apple's website last week after testing that vocal plug-in and was reminded of the horrendous price. $3,000 for a decently specced computer was just too much. Someone on Reddit was telling me how great Apple's refurbished computers are and that they're basically brand new aside from the regular box it comes in. So I decided I wanted to get a refurbished MacBook Pro. However, the next morning, I decided to do a little more research and I thank God I did because after a little research, I saw how much better the new 13" M1 chip MacBook Pro was over the current 16" Intel MacBook Pro and that it was the best laptop to buy. Even better, it's cheaper. So after more research, I decided to buy a refurbished max specced out M1 MacBook Pro. I finally have 2 tb of storage. 2 TB!!! I have more storage on this laptop than on my Windows desktop. I also went with silver over space grey like my other MacBook simply because it looks so much cooler. I don't care for space grey anymore. Something about the classic silver is where it's at. Also, this keyboard is amazing! I'm using it right now to type this. The Touch Bar is pretty cool too. I thought it would be a weird adjustment but it was actually pretty seamless. My only complaint is that it's easier to tap it and do something while typing on the keyboard. Happened to me twice while typing this. Although, all I did was open the emoji window so it wasn't even an issue. However, I think I type a bit in an unconventional way than most of you reading this do so just ignore me. I would also like to brag about how quiet this computer is. I haven't heard the fan once and it's dead quiet. In fact, the M1 MacBook Air doesn't even have a fan, that's how good this new Apple silicon is. Lastly, I haven't had the computer heat up at all yet. I'm typing this using safari with a few tabs open, Logic Pro in the background and there's no part of the computer that's hot right now. My lap would've melted if I was using my 2017 MacBook and it's in great shape! I want to say this computer is a beast but, to be honest, I haven't had a chance to stress test it yet. I've had the computer for less than a week. I will definitely keep you all updated.

Wow, I can't believe I typed all of this simply because I imagined Adam Young in his basement late at night with his MacBook Pro writing his magnificent blog posts that inspired me to start this blog in the first place. For whatever reason, it's a real vibe for me and as I was fumbling through Logic Pro, I had the idea to write a blog and all of this entry just poured out from my brain to this text box. I sincerely apologize to anyone reading this far and to my future self who probably just spent 20 minutes proofreading and fixing errors I made. I'd imagine all the run-on sentences are probably infuriating. I think I spent 40 minutes to an hour just writing this.

In conclusion, I'm writing blog posts again and plan to release new entries at least somewhat often. I have quite a few ideas of things I want to talk about, so you guys will get to pick my brain soon enough. In addition, I may go public about this blog. It is public but I announced it a long time ago and I wasn't very big. But with my podcast and additional following over the years, I may finally get some readers. I'd be surprised if more than 3 people have seen my blog which I'm not upset about. I'm treating this as my personal time capsule and it's fun to go back and read. In addition, I'm going to die someday. I don't know when and how, but it provides a little bit of comfort knowing a potential love one may find this one day after my unfortunate death and get hours of personal content that they can read over any time. I don't mean to get morbid and I don't mean to say my blog is the second coming of Christ. I don't know what I'm saying other than I hope you enjoy it. Anywho, I plan to make blog posts more coherent and not so all over the place. I went from being lazy/hating work, MacBook Pros, and then to my death, all in the same post. I just got so excited once I started typing and couldn't stop. More posts to come. Thank you and goodnight.

-Sincerely,

Jacob McDonnell

[zannolin]

The Moment

Bad title (it's so Doctor Who) and emotional super short fic because I had caffeine and I can't sleep. Forgive me. --- " -I've lost him! Do you have anything? Obi-Wan?!" Obi-Wan barely registers Anakin's voice over the comm. This is it. This is how it happens. How he "dies". The Jedi master closes his blue eyes and inhales deeply, centering himself in the moment. "Be mindful of the moment," Qui-Gon always told him. He doesn't want to mind this one. What if it fails? What if he really does die? What if he never gets the chance to tell Anakin how proud of him he is, to tell Ahsoka how far she's come, to tell Satine - his thoughts stumble to a halt, refusing to go any further down that path. He's spent years training himself not to go there. And then he realizes his moment is up, and the time is now. Obi-Wan Kenobi releases his pent-up breath and steps out to face his death. ..... By the Force, it hurts. Of course, Obi-Wan hadn't expected getting shot and falling off a building to be a stroll in the park, but he certainly hadn't planned on this level of dizzying pain. Even hanging by his wrists on Kamino hadn't been quite this bad. But he sucks in a breath and hurriedly administers the drug before Ahsoka can reach him. Slipping into nothingness, his last waking thoughts fall to his former Padawan. He hopes that Anakin can forgive him for this. --- It got worse in the five minutes it's been since I proofread. I'm sure I'll regret posting when I'm coherent. But I wanted to write about this episode.

[writingguide003-blog]

Three Writing Rules to Disregard

New Post has been published on https://writingguideto.com/trending/three-writing-rules-to-disregard/

Three Writing Rules to Disregard

I have nothing against rules. They’re indispensable when playing Monopoly or gin rummy, and their observance can go a long way toward improving a ride on the subway. The rule of law? Big fan.

The English language, though, is not so easily ruled and regulated. It developed without codification, sucking up new constructions and vocabulary every time some foreigner set foot on the British Isles—­to say nothing of the mischief we Americans have wreaked on it these last few centuries—­and continues to evolve anarchically. It has, to my great dismay, no enforceable laws, much less someone to enforce the laws it doesn’t have.

Certain prose rules are essentially inarguable—­that a sentence’s subject and its verb should agree in number, for instance. Or that in a “not only x but y” construction, the x and the y must be parallel elements. Why? I suppose because they’re firmly entrenched, because no one cares to argue with them, and because they aid us in using our words to their preeminent purpose: to communicate clearly with our readers. Let’s call these reasons the Four C’s, shall we? Convention. Consensus. Clarity. Comprehension.

Also simply because, I swear to you, a well-­constructed sentence sounds better. Literally sounds better. One of the best ways to determine whether your prose is well ­constructed is to read it aloud. A sentence that can’t be readily voiced is a sentence that likely needs to be rewritten.

A good sentence, I find myself saying frequently, is one that the reader can follow from beginning to end, no matter how long it is, without having to double back in confusion because the writer misused or omitted a key piece of punctuation, chose a vague or misleading pronoun, or in some other way engaged in inadvertent misdirection. (If you want to puzzle your reader, that’s your own business.)

As much as I like a good rule, I’m an enthusiastic subscriber to the notion of “rules are meant to be broken”—­once you’ve learned them, I hasten to add.

But let’s, right now, attend to a few of what I think of as the Great Nonrules of the English Language. You’ve encountered all of these; likely you were taught them in school. I’d like you to free yourself of them. They’re not helping you; all they’re doing is clogging your brain and inciting you to look self-­consciously over your own shoulder as you write, which is as psychically painful as it is physically impossible. And once you’ve done that, once you’ve gotten rid of them, hopefully you can put your attention on vastly more important things. 

Why are they nonrules? So far as I’m concerned, because they’re largely unhelpful, pointlessly constricting, feckless, and useless. Also because they’re generally of dubious origin: devised out of thin air, then passed on till they’ve gained respectable solidity and, ultimately, have ossified. Language experts far more expert than I have, over the years, done their best to debunk them, yet these made-­up strictures refuse to go away and have proven more durable than Keith Richards and Mick Jagger. Put together. Part of the problem, I must add, is that some of them were made up by ostensible and presumably well-­meaning language experts in the first place, so getting rid of them can be a bit like trying to get a dog to stop chasing its own tail.

I’ll dispatch these reasonably succinctly, with the hope that you’ll trust that I’ve done my homework and will be happy to see them go. I’m mindful of Gertrude Stein’s characterization of Ezra Pound as “a village explainer, excellent if you were a village, but if you were not, not,” and no one wants to be that guy. Also, if you persist in insisting that these nonrules are real and valid and to be hewed to, all the expert citations in the world won’t, I know through experience, change your mind one tiny little bit.

An admission: Quite a lot of what I do as a copy editor is to help writers avoid being carped at, fairly or—­and this is the part that hurts—­unfairly, by People Who Think They Know Better and Write Aggrieved Emails to Publishing Houses. Thus I tend to be a bit conservative about flouting rules that may be a bit dubious in their origin but, observed, ain’t hurting nobody. And though the nonrules below are particularly arrant nonsense, I warn you that, in breaking them, you’ll have a certain percentage of the reading and online-­commenting populace up your fundament to tell you you’re subliterate. Go ahead and break them anyway. It’s fun, and I’ll back you up.

1. Never Begin a Sentence with “And” or “But.”

No, do begin a sentence with “And” or “But,” if it strikes your fancy to do so. Great writers do it all the time. As do even not necessarily great writers, like the person who has, so far in this essay, done it a few times and intends to do it a lot more.

But soft, as they used to say, here comes a caveat:

An “And” or a “But” (or a “For” or an “Or” or a “However” or a “Because,” to cite four other sentence starters one is often warned against) is not always the strongest beginning for a sentence, and making a relentless habit of using any of them palls quickly. You may find that you don’t need that “And” at all. You may find that your “And” or “But” sentence might easily attach to its predecessor sentence with either a comma or a semicolon. Take a good look, and give it a good think.

Let’s test an example or two.

Francie, of course, became an outsider shunned by all because of her stench. But she had become accustomed to being lonely.

Francie, of course, became an outsider shunned by all because of her stench, but she had become accustomed to being lonely.

Which do you think Betty Smith, the author of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, chose? The former, as it happens. Had I been Smith’s copy editor, I might well have suggested the second, to make one coherent, connected thought out of two unnecessarily separated ones. Perhaps she’d have agreed, or perhaps she’d have preferred the text as she’d written it, hearing it in her head as a solemn knell. Authors do often prefer their text the way they’ve written it.

Here’s another, in two flavors:

In the hospital he should be safe, for Major Callendar would protect him, but the Major had not come, and now things were worse than ever.

In the hospital he should be safe, for Major Callendar would protect him. But the Major had not come, and now things were worse than ever.

This is E. M. Forster, in A Passage to India, and I suspect you’ll not be surprised to learn that version 2 is his. For one thing, version 1’s a bit long. More important, version 2, with that definitive period, more effectively conveys, I’d say, the sense of dashed expectations, the reversal of fortune.

These are the choices that writers make, and that copy editors observe, and this is how you build a book.

One thing to add: Writers who are not so adept at linking their sentences habitually toss in a “But” or a “However” to create the illusion that a second thought contradicts a first thought when it doesn’t do any such thing. It doesn’t work, and I’m on to you.

2. Never Split an Infinitive.

To cite the most famous split infinitive of our era—­and everyone cites this bit from the original Star Trek TV series, so zero points to me for originality—­“To boldly go where no man has gone before.”

There’s much more—­much more—­one could say on the subject, but I don’t want to write about the nineteenth-­century textual critic Henry Alford any more than you want to read about the nineteenth-­century textual critic Henry Alford, so let’s leave it at this: A split infinitive, as we generally understand the term, is a “to [verb]” construction with an adverb stuck in the middle of it. In the Star Trek example, then, an unsplit infinitive version would be “Boldly to go where no man has gone before” or “To go boldly where no man has gone before.” If either of those sounds better to you, be my guest. To me they sound as if they were translated from the Vulcan.

Otherwise, let’s skip right to Raymond Chandler. Again, as with the Star Trek phrase, everyone loves to cite Chandler on this subject, but it’s for a God damn [sic] good reason. Chandler sent this note to the editor of The Atlantic Monthly in response to the copyediting of an article he’d written:

By the way, would you convey my compliments to the purist who reads your proofs and tell him or her that I write in a sort of broken-­down patois which is something like the way a Swiss waiter talks, and that when I split an infinitive, God damn it, I split it so it will stay split.

Over and out.

3. Never End a Sentence with a Preposition.

This is the rule that invariably (and wearily) leads to a rehash of the celebrated remark by Winston Churchill that Winston Churchill, in reality, neither said nor wrote:

“This is the kind of arrant pedantry up with which I will not put.”

Let me say this about this: Ending a sentence with a preposition (as, at, by, for, from, of, etc.) isn’t always such a hot idea, mostly because a sentence should, when it can, aim for a powerful finale and not simply dribble off like an old man’s unhappy micturition. A sentence that meanders its way to a prepositional finish is often, I find, weaker than it ought to or could be.

What did you do that for?

Why did you do that?

has some snap to it.

But to tie a sentence into a strangling knot to avoid a prepositional conclusion is unhelpful and unnatural, and it’s something no good writer should attempt and no eager reader should have to contend with.

If you follow me.

Benjamin Dreyer is vice president, executive managing editor, and copy chief of Random House. He began his publishing career as a freelance proofreader and copyeditor. In 1993, he became a production editor at Random House, overseeing books by writers including Michael Chabon, Edmund Morris, Suzan-Lori Parks, Michael Pollan, Peter Straub, and Calvin Trillin. He has copyedited books by authors including E. L. Doctorow, David Ebershoff, Frank Rich, and Elizabeth Strout, as well as Let Me Tell You, a volume of previously uncollected work by Shirley Jackson. A graduate of Northwestern University, he lives in New York City.

Excerpted with permission from the new book Dreyer’s English: An Utterly Correct Guide to Clarity and Style, by Benjamin Dreyer. Published by Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York. Copyright © 2019 by Benjamin Dreyer. All rights reserved.

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Three Writing Rules to Disregard