#i just cant wait to finally have air conditioning

[effervescent-fool]

we should be getting power back on by the end of today!

[jinxthequeergirl]

what would have happened if instead of stanley bill had gotten into reader's head? and in the end it was reader who got their memory erased. i just want to see stan's reaction, cuz reader is his partner. how he will try to do something or on the contrary, resign himself?

writing by translation sorry for mistakes

I See you In the Back of my mind

Stanley pines x fiance! reader

Thank you anon I love you 🙏😚

Warning:

~~~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~~~~

You knew what he was doing. You knew right away what was happening when Bill brought you and the twins back to the Pines brothers still locked in their cage. You'd spent half your life with Stanley to recognize him even in his twins' clothes.

You locked eyes with them shaking your head, warning him not to do what you thought he was about to do, begging him with your look.

"Alright,times up! I've got the kids and your little wife to be! y/n! I think I'm gonna kill one of them!" You struggled in Bills grip watching the kids hopelessly in his other hand. "Enie meni...minie...YOU!-"

"Wait!"

Everything froze for a moment.

"I surrender!" You shook your head before Bill dropped you.

"Good choice!" The air was knocked out of you on impact with the floor. "Don't do it!" You yelled. Bill snapped his fingers, and a zipper replaced your mouth.

"I accept under one condition, you let my brother y/n and the kids go."

"It's a Deal.

Bill stuck out his hand, a bright blue flame engulfing it. Stanley stared at it, glancing back at his family behind him.

"Grunkle Ford, don't trust him!" Dipper yelled.

You stood to your feet, fighting the zipper on your mouth, finally freeing it.

"Stop! Take me instead of st-Ford!" You said running up to stans side.

"What are you doing?" You ignored him. "I know everything he does, I studied thought journals to reopen the portal, I might even know MORE than him, plus.. you can keep my body as a physical form. it's younger than Fords!." He snapped again, the zipper disappearing from your mouth.

"Y/n! Are you crazy!?"

"Y/n no, you can't do this!" Both brothers were yelling at you now. Stan held your hand tightly, giving you the same look you gave him only moments before. You could hear Bill hum while he thought.

"Alright y/n! You make a good point it's a deal then!"

"Same rules apply the Pines family leaves here untouched!" You added.

Bill rolled his eyes.

"Sure, sure."

You turned quickly and hugged stan,slipping something in his pocket. "Do what you have too, take care of the kids. I love you!" Stan stared at you in shock, unable to speak before you turned away and locked hands with Bill.

The Pines watched you fall into a deep sleep in front of them. "She looks peacful." Mable commented. Voicing exactly what stan was thinking in that moment. He felt in his pocket for what you had slipped inside pulling out your engagement ring.

Ford sighed, deeply pulling out the memory gun.

"Wait, we can't...." stan Said stepping in front of you, blocking for your ring firmly in his grasp.

"Stanley, we don't have any other choice...:

"It should have been me... cant...I can't lose her! Before the kids, she was the only family I had I...Shes everything to me." He said, falling to his knees in front of you helplessly hanging his head.

"Stanley...step aside."

You would have tidied the place up if you knew you were having guests. The only thing on your mind when Bill entered was memories of Stan and the kids.

"What do you see in that guy?" Bill asked, finding you watching your last date with stan. You wondered if that really was the last ever time you'd be with him.

"He makes me laugh." You chuckled, you got up wiping the memory completely from your mind, now only standing in complete nothingness. You thought it would have happened right away, but you figured Stanley was putting up a fight about it.

That was another reason you liked him.

Then you felt it.

"I'm really sorry to do this to you cipher, but you messed with the people I love."

Blue flames engulfed your mind before the blink of an eye.

"You tricked me!" He made a move like he was trying to leave. Instead, you created a cage around him. "Your in MY head I still have some control of you right now." You said as he pulled at the bars.

"Is all of this worth it! All for the Pines family? For STANLEY? "

"If not them, who?"

You sat down in front of his cage and watched the flames get higher. "I can offer you anything! Let me out, fame, money riches! I'll let you and stanley live out the happily married life you've always wanted!Anything, please!"

"You're begging for your life!?" You laughed at him.

That was really the last thing you remembered laughing in Bill's face before it all went away.

It all ended so suddenly. In a massive wave, it was over. Stanley wasn't really sure what else he was expecting to happen when it ended. But he didn't really have time to think about that now.

"She did it." Ford said somewhere from behind him as he made his way to you. "Y/n!" You blinked at him in confusion before he scooped you up in the tightest hug he could muster lifting you from the ground.

"Oh! Ah ow!"

"You did it! You saved us!" He said, placing you down and cupping your cheeks. He was so caught up in the moment that he forgot what you just sacrificed.

You stared at him in confusion. "Uh, sorry, Mr." You said shaking him off. "I'm not really sure who you are or what you are talking about..."

"No...y/n c'mon, it's me! It's stan.."

"Stanley... she can't remember..." Ford said, placing a hand on his shoulder. They watched as the kids tried to talk to you, sharing their own memories with you, trying to get you to remember them.

Everyone decided to go back home and rest a moment before trying any further. Maybe the shack would help. You let stan hold your hand mainly to help guide you through the woods.

"You all live like this?" You asked partly, joking as he helped you step over the ruble and debris of the shack. "You live like this too." Stan corrected in a similar joking manner.

"Huh." Stan guided you to what you assumed to be the family room at one point and let you flop into a big yellow seat.

"This feels nice." You sighed, shutting your eyes. You weren't sure why, but your body ached, your head throbbed, and it felt like the first time you'd gotten off your feet in days.

The room fell silent. You opened one eye to see everyone staring at you and each other silently debating on what to do.

"I know!" Mable shouted, running through the house before returning with a book in hand. "My scrapbook! This has to help her remember!" Mable jumped up onto the seat, squishing herself between you and the arm rest. "Look! This is the first time we met! The day we came to gravity falls!"

"What about that romantic yet almost dangerous date we planned for you and stan?" Dipper asked, flipping through the pages.

You stared at the pages, photos with you in them, stories to go with it. But none of it was clicking.

"LOOK! the wedding invites you, let me decorate!" Mable said, shoving one very glittery piece of pink paper into your hand.

"Wedding?" The paper read both yours and stans name the line where a date should have been remained empty.

"If only your grunkle could commit to a date, these would be beautiful mable." You joked, rolling your eyes.

Everyone shared a look. "And where is my ring!?"

"She's staring to remember!" Stan jumped to find the ring once again, digging it out from his pocket and slipping it into place on your finger. You felt something light up inside you when he did. You placed a hand on his cheek and smiled before planting a reasuring kiss on the top of his head, followed by you squishing his fez down on him with a laugh.

It took the rest of the night, and even a couple of days, but eventually you everything fell back into place. And eventually you and stan where passing out wedding invites together to the towns folk of gravity falls during the twins birthday party.

[ozzgin]

wtf HOW WAS ROMULUS OZZIE Hello??????? I CANT WAIT TO WATCH ITRTR i miss david 8 tho 😓😓 “you finger and i blow” ok gorgeous whatever you say

Ok ok, I let it sit overnight so I could formulate a less feral opinion. I'll do my best to be objective, though you should keep in mind that I'm very biased when it comes to the Alien franchise.

Alien: Romulus First Impressions

Plot. The movie takes place between Alien (1979) and Aliens (1986). If you've seen the old Alien movies, you will notice it follows the same formula: somewhat slow beginning, a grand reveal, a lot of high-stake escape attempts, shady android behavior, and the classic, speedy succession of plot twists where you think you're safe, only to be surprised the very next moment.

While this movie is meant to behave more like the pre-2000 releases, it does bring some novel elements, which, in my opinion, helped build its own authenticity. Additionally - and without spoiling you - it will involve its own Xenomorph variation. Fantastic idea, and I cannot believe it hasn't been done earlier.

The cast is a group of orphaned youngsters who want to escape their space mining colony. You're introduced to a dystopian, grimy world of overworked humans who've never seen the light of the sun. The main character, Rain, is accompanied by her "brother", Andy, an android programmed to take care of her after the death of her parents. Here's another aspect I enjoyed: an anxious, imperfect android who seems to display an emotional bond with his human.

Rain's friends discover a shipwreck which may contain enough sleeping pods to take them away from these unbearable conditions. Their plan is to sneak in, take the pods, and speed away to a more humane station while in cryosleep. The twist? It's not just any regular ship. They have stepped into the Romulus and Remus research station, operated by Weyland-Yutani, and haunted by yet another failed attempt to contain the Xenomorph horrors.

Characters. Let me tell you, this was a breath of fresh air. Prometheus and Covenant have left me rather skeptical when it comes to a competent cast, yet from the ashes of pathetic military personnel rose a bunch of kids who are built for survival. Rain reminded me so much of Ripley - extremely intelligent, efficient, and strong. Her friends are equally brave in the face of disaster. This was a 10/10 cast, and I'm so glad they finally found the balance between being terrified and still navigating the situation without catastrophic mistakes.

Visuals. The imagery was an absolute treat. They seamlessly combined modern special effects with throwback, retro detailing. The futuristic equipment and locations reminded me a lot of Alien: Isolation. Upon further research, it seems that the director was indeed inspired by the game! It made everything so nostalgic and immersive. The Xenomorph design was flawless as usual, involving a lot of body horror.

Audio. I am desperately waiting for the album to be released on Spotify, because the soundtracks were amazing. The music was composed by Benjamin Wallfisch, who seems to have rather big movie titles under his belt, such as It, and It: Chapter Two. Safe to say this man knows how to instil terror in you. They made sure to incorporate some of the classic pieces, then expanded on that. The alert beats reminded me of Covenant, while other tracks provided their own take on the story. The intro of the movie is aided by dissonant chanting in the background, hinting at the ancient, religious imagery used for the Xenomorphs.

Conclusion. Overall, I'd say this is a must-watch for any Alien fan. It is a tribute to the classic movies, but it still offers a brand-new take to the Alien Universe. The movie had some moments of complete silence - staying true to the "In space, no one can hear you scream" quote - and everyone in the cinema held their breaths. It will keep you on your toes.

[billgetsmewet]

doktorspiele..

short smut :3

-tom kaulitz x fem!reader

-warnings : nicknames,blowjob , sub!reader / dom!tom, agegap

A/N : 2015 tom is so hot stfu he could bend me over and *******

You and your parents recently moved towns because of financial problems, your new house was fine.. except the air conditioning. It was always super cold in your room, especially in winter, because of this, youve had a sore throat for a bit now.

You eventually told your mum and she suggested you get it checked out by a doctor, so you did as she said.

You were looking up doctors in your area, trying to find one that didnt look sketchy…

Eventually, after a but of scrolling, you found a doctor. He was quite young, it said in his description that he was 26 years old. This made you more comfortable, considering old doctors are kinda creepy.

Keep in mind, you were only 18, about to finish highschool.

You called the doctor and made an appointment for about 3 days after. You didnt mind waiting, since you knew you would still have this damn curse of a sore throat…

The day finally came. You hopped into the uber, getting to the doctors 20 minutes before your appointment, just in case. Surprisingly, he was free.. He welcomed you in, in a slightly seductive voice - Hello, y/n? Ah yes, Im Tom, i got done with the client before you pretty quickly..

You couldnt help but notice his thick german accent, it was really hot, being honest.

He took you into the office, sat you down, asked you whats wrong… the usual. - Ive had a sore throat for a while.. my room is pretty cold, so i just cant get rid of this.. Hm.. im sorry to hear, i suggest you getting a warmer blanket and clothes with longer sleeves.. and without cutouts around the neck.

Shit, you just noticed, you wore the most revealing shirt you could ever wear. I mean.. it could be helpful if he was trying to examine your lungs, but it was also making you look stupid in this situation, but.. for some reason Tom didnt seem to mind, its almost as if he kept looking at your tits from time to time..

He put the stethoscope on your chest, the cold metal making you slightly flinch, he was listening to your heart, noticing the beats are getting faster and faster once he looks at you. He smiles in realization before moving on and putting it on your back to check your lungs.Deep breath in, darling.

You struggled not to moan out as he called you “darling”.

Good girl, now deep breath out.

God, he was making this so hard.

He took the stethoscope to your heart again. This will.. uh..let me examine your lungs better, i feel. - he said, yet it sounded like an excuse.

Deep breath in, sweetheart…

He was definitely teasing you. He could hear your heart beat as fast as possible as he said “sweetheart”. You looked up at him, blushing, realizing whats happening.

Listen darling, all i can prescribe you for this sore throat is…

Next thing you know his cock is in your mouth and hes bobbing your head up and down on it. Atleast this will cure your sore throat, right..?

Ps i want 2015 tom to make me choke on his cock..;(

[robo-writing]

NSFW Alphabet - Clive Rosfield Edition

Pairing: Clive Rosfield/Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+, minors DNI

Author’s Note: Might've gone overboard, this ended up being 2.7k words!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Clive makes it his personal mission to make you as comfortable as possible both during and after sex. His arms become your own personal cocoon, kissing your forehead as he cradles you closer. “I didn’t hurt you did I?” Clive asks, checking over you once, twice, before you have to stop him with a hand to his chest. “I’m fine, really, you didn’t do anything that I wasn’t actively encouraging.” You lay a kiss to the hand resting on your cheek, enjoying the smile that blooms on his face. “Are you sure?” He studies your nude body concerned, lightly rubbing the indents where his hands gripped you. You nod. “I’m sure. Now come, lay with me.”

“As you wish.” He answers, moving to hold you close.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

It might sound cheesy but he genuinely enjoys watching you smile, it brightens his day like nothing else. For him, it’s his arms, because you get so giddy when he lifts you for a hug, legs dangling in the air. The two of you are walking side by side through a meadow, a rare day of peace where Clive can simply enjoy being in the moment with you. You had insisted on a break, and now that he’s here he feels a sense of calm wash over him. Your stumbling form brings him out of his head, moving quickly to catch you before you fall. “Are you alright?” You both look down, a huff of annoyance escaping you. “Just tripped over some rocks, I’ll be fine.” A closer look and the road ahead is a bit uneven. He couldn’t risk you falling and hurting yourself, so his next course of action was obvious.

Within seconds you find yourself lifted bridal-style in his arms, holding onto his tunic in shock. “What—Clive?” Your legs dangle in the air, secured by strong arms beneath you. You look at him, waiting. His tone is genuine, but the pleased smirk he wears tells another tale. “I can’t have my lady walking in such dangerous conditions, what kind of man would I be?” You raise an eyebrow in knowing, aware that he just wanted an excuse to hold you. “You could’ve just asked me, you know.” He nods in agreement. “Yes, I could have. But this is more fun.”

You feel yourself laugh in his arms as he walks, an ever-present smile on his face.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He loves the sight of his cum dripping from you, but equally hates the smug look Tarja gives him when he asks for some medicine the day after. He’ll settle for finishing on your stomach to save himself the embarrassment but if you want to watch every thought exit his brain ask him to come inside you, he’ll never say no.

“My love,” he grunts, the scruff of his beard tickling your neck. He’s pushed himself as far as he can go, unwilling to separate for a second. “Tell me to stop, please—“

His movements are uncoordinated, single-minded in their attempt to bring you pleasure. You can barely hear him past the sound of your own moans, but your legs bring him closer either way. “Don’t, stay, please—“

Something snaps in his brain, his thrusts move even faster, a hand on your hip to keep you steady as his hips cant deliciously into yours. “Founder help me, you feel so good, fuck—!”

He cries your name as he stumbles off the edge, a violent shudder moving through his body. When he finally gathers himself he looks down at you through lidded eyes, a dopey grin stretched across your face.

“A smile like that means I must have done well.” He breathes, shallow and ragged. He watches his seed spill from you captivated, a single finger moving to spread you apart and watch more of him drip from you.

Tarja be damned, this was worth it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Wants to be submissive to you, wants to just lay back and take whatever you have to give, but the poor boy doesn’t know how to express it. It might have to take some detective work from you, but if you ever figure it out he’s putty in your hands.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He had no previous lovers besides you, but he isn’t totally oblivious, trust me when I say he’s eager to learn.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Good ol’ missionary, also enjoys doggystyle. Something about the sound of you screaming his name into the pillow drives him wild.

Muffled noises leave your lips, a beautiful song of his name harmonizing perfectly with the sound of his hips meeting yours. You’re pressed perfectly beneath him, arched just the way he likes it, a hand running down your back appreciatively.

He finds himself grinning at another whine of his name, fully draping himself over you. His lips meet your ear as the force of his thrusts increases, legs shaking in an attempt to keep up with his brutal pace.

“Just like that my love, you’re doing so well.”

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

To him, having sex is his way of showing his love for you, and he’s very serious about that. He’ll crack a smile or two, but if you joke around too much he’ll probably look at you confused before starting again, making sure that this time you’re too preoccupied to try.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He does keep himself trimmed regularly, a habit from his days as a former royal. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Having sex with Clive is a declaration of his love to you, every action speaks to you in a profound way that extends beyond just pleasure. There's something so affectionate about being with Clive, every action fulfilling a need you were never aware of. His touch, a declaration of his love, his words devout.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Moderate sex drive, doesn’t really jerk off and if the urge does rise, he’d rather just go to you. On the off-chance he does partake it’s very quick, driving himself to pleasure as fast as possible with a hand on his mouth to silence himself.

You had left early in the morning while he was still asleep and when he woke up he found himself missing you, which then evolved into him missing your body, how soft it was under his hands, how it moved for him as he explored it. Further and further did his imagination take him under his fingers squeezed at his hardening cock, a sigh leaving him as he freed himself from his nightwear. 

He wanted to take his time but the thought of you made him frantic, hand moving faster and faster against his length. Just when he felt that blinding sensation build up in his core the door opened abruptly, the shock causing him to halt in fear before he realized it was you who walked in.

A look of shock, then of lust passed through your face. “Of all the things I expected to find, this was not on the list.”

Clive moves to apologize, reaching for a blanket to cover himself before he’s stopped by your hands at his wrist. 

You eye him up and down, pulling the blanket further away as you sit at his side, lips kissing softly at his neck. He’s confused, hesitant to move from his spot.

“My love?” He asks, looking up and down at you. His cock is still throbbing with need, even more so now that you’re touching him, breath hitched when your fingers trace against his length.

You whisper into his skin, breathy. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here before, but I’m here now. Let me take care of you.”

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise kink - He’s always complimenting you one way or another, whether that’s on the battlefield or in the bedroom.

Body Worship - Truly believes you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and he makes you feel like it too. If you’re insecure about anything, he’s going to make it his personal goal to show you how perfect you are.

Frottage - Sometimes the two of you are so eager that you can’t be bothered to take your clothes off. At times like this he’s content to watch you fall apart on his lap, only to have his hips stutter when your fingers press against his clothed erection. 

Size Difference - He can’t help the pride that swells in him when you can’t reach something and have to ask him for help, it makes him feel needed. He also can’t help how his dick throbs when you struggle to take it, the smallest little bump forming against your stomach when he pushes all the way in.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom, or if you’re on the road, a local inn. He prefers sex to be somewhere neither of you can be bothered.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Spending time with you, holding you close. It’s not unsurprising to have a hand “innocently” rest under your clothes and if anything else were to happen, well, that’s just a happy accident.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything pain-related, or anything that can draw blood. He doesn’t want to hurt you, so any and all weapons are off the table.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Has a preference for receiving rather than giving, only because the sight of you with his cock in your mouth makes him weak in the knees.

His hands are bundled in the sheets, hunched over, trying his best to control his hips. Your mouth laps at the head of his cock, and when you look up at him doe-eyed he nearly comes right then and there.

You love him when he’s like this, such a strong man reduced to his base form, struggling to contain himself under waves of euphoria. When you lift your mouth away he begs for you to return, only to silence himself when you put his hand in your hair.

“Go on,” you goad, licking a stripe against his length. You don’t miss how his fingers tighten in your locks. 

Your only warning is a groan of your name before he forces you to take every inch he has to give, a sinful grin curling at his lips when he feels you gag.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow, purposefully strokes, enjoys taking his time with you. Might treat you a bit rougher if he’s had a bad day, but he’ll apologize after and give you the best aftercare the world has ever seen.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If he’s short on time, sure, but he much prefers to take his time with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Like before, he isn’t experienced so any risks being taken would most likely be proposed by you. He’s up for trying anything once, so long as it isn’t dangerous.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Former Shield of Rosaria, as well as the Dominant of Ifrit? You’d be lucky if he breaks a sweat.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He probably wouldn’t think about them until you showed him one, all of a sudden a new world has been unlocked to him. This goes back to the dirty secret bit, but he’s also played around with the idea of you using them on him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Likes to tease you, but can never commit to it because the moment you beg him to keep going he’s quick to give you whatever he wants.

He has you encased in his arms, back pressed against his front as his fingers move across your aching sex, so close and yet so far from what you need. 

He laughs at your frustration, keeping your legs held open with one hand while the other makes feather light touches against your exposed folds. He’s enjoying himself, but you’re fit to burst. 

“You look beautiful like this, a pleasure for my eyes only.” He whispers into your ear.

Even when he’s teasing you he’s a romantic, even if you’re ready to cry in dismay.

“Clive, I’m begging you—“ You reach a hand to his wrist, pressing his hand further to touch your clit. “Touch me, please.”

He looks down at your glassy eyes, and his heart tugs at the sight of you so desperate. He obliges without a second thought, enjoying the sound of your moans bouncing off the walls.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not a moaner, but a chatter. Likes to tell you exactly what you do to him as he fucks you.

“Founder, I could spend the rest of my days like this—“

A sharp thrust leaves you keening, a jumbled mess of what would be his name leaving your lips. The sound of his cock entering you is obscene, only made worse by your own voice crying out for him.

“—you, ah, you want that, right? Want me buried inside you until you can’t stand—“

He can barely finish a sentence without moaning, too far gone in the feeling of your wetness clenching around him. You don’t reply, but your body tells all, your back arching off the sheets.

“Ah, I knew you would,“ He hits that spot inside that has you seeing stars, and before you could scream he swallows whatever sound you make with his mouth against yours, sloppy and unrefined. 

When he’s satisfied, he pulls away to admire your supple body laid bare before him. With a growl, he continues. “Don’t worry, I want that too.”

He doesn’t stop moving, not for a second. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Likes to use Ifrit’s flames to keep you warm in the cold winter nights. It’s also an excuse to keep you close.

Even as you sit in front of the fireplace a chill is settling deep into your bones. After the third shudder you find yourself lifted into the air by a familiar pair of arms, enveloping you in a warmth that causes you to relax instantly.

“You didn’t have to Clive,” you murmur, moving closer into him. “The fireplace would have gotten me warm soon enough.”

He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Would that have been before or after you turned into a block of ice?”

You smile at the joke, relaxing even further when he presses a kiss into your hair. He places you on the bed, quickly maneuvering himself behind you as a blanket of heat spreads across you.

“Sleep well, my dear. I’ll keep you warm instead.”

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

6 inches, very girthy, needs to work you up a bit before getting anything done, but once you’re nice and prepared you feel so full.

No matter how many times you’ve had sex, Clive always marvels at how tight you are, how small you look beneath him or how wide your eyes get when he rests himself at your entrance. 

The first time you had sex you had told him unsure, “I don’t think it’ll fit.” 

He proved you very wrong that night, as he did every night since. Even now, as your eyes roll back at the delicious stretch he provides, he’ll prove you wrong once more.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Moderate, he's always thinking about you and making sure you're comfortable.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

The moment he’s certain all your needs are met he’s falling asleep alongside you. Will also take some time in the morning just to admire you before he has to leave.

[d10nsaint]

☆ Divine ! | leon kennedy

≡☆Tags: silly little leon and silly little reader!!! kisses, fluff, all that sappy stuff &l

≡☆ notes: No bcs i need leon. now. right in my bed. And i just wanna kiss him like UGHHH

The blue suit stretched across Leon’s shoulders, making him seem bigger than he already was when he towered over you.

Holy shit.

You both were in the break room, yes darting across the room as the awkwardness spread in the air, trying to (unsuccessfully) Ignore the elephant in the room.

When the hell was he going to ask you out?

During the outbreak in the white house, you two may or may not have shared a kiss. It was impulsive, dangerous, considering the condition you both were in, and yet it was gorgeous, it had passion and feelings hidden behind thin satin veils begging to be peeled off.

Every time you remember the kiss, it sends you reeling.

You could smell the whiskey in his breath when he was inching towards you. Was he drinking on the plane back to Washington? He was slightly shaking his eyes big and begging you to not back away from him. Who would even do that? When your lips finally met, you felt sparks go off in your head. You couldn’t even think. It was amazing.

Sadly, it was interrupted but a gargling zombie, and nothing had been said about it since then.

You let out a deep sigh while looking at the dull coffee cup in your hand. You heard Leon clear his throat then set his bottle of water down on the counter.

“Leon, do you… do you not like me or something?” You shifted your weight from one foot to another, hearing your breath hitch.

“no…I, I do. I just dont have a good history with asking women out.” He laughs at his own self deprecating comment, stopping complete when he sees your abashed face.

“Who in the world would reject you?”

He scoffs, before chuckling. “There's a long list.”

"well, i dont think i wanna be on it,” You said, without thinking. The moment your mouth opened, you couldnt help but shut it immediately.

All Leon did was raise an eyebrow.

“dinner at 9, then?” He said, with a full smile, putting his smile lines on display.

You finished your cup of coffee and smiled.

“i cant wait.”

[08melancholie]

Coated. — Micah Bell/Reader

tags: Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Denial of Feelings, Chapter 2: Horseshoe Overlook (Red Dead Redemption 2), Location: Valentine (Red Dead Redemption), Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Soft Micah Bell, Pining, Pining Reader, reader is lowkey a bit of a freak, Female Honorifics and Terms, a bit ooc but you can't blame me i just want him so bad, Obsession, Obsessive Behaviour, Unresolved Sexual Tension

summary: It felt unreal; the smell of musk, gunpowder and smoke, the leather fabric dragging over your undershirt, the way it hung over your body, threatening to slip off with every movement from the size difference. A storm always ruined your plans, usually. Though, you were finally glad for the change of weather, seeing how much it benefitted you tonight.

a/n: micah bell fluff im sorry guys cant help myself lawd....... i want him to give me a bear hug and tell me itll be ok

Not proofread !!!!

words: 3,288 | AO3 LINK

Valentine always smelled the same, and it would instantly attack your nostrils when you'd exit the almost run-down saloon after a night out. Today, a fraction of the gang had one of the more successful jobs, and decided to treat themselves to a drink out in the nearby town instead of in camp, like they would usually. You were part of the fraction; having accompanied them on quite a few jobs as of recently.

It was a high-risk robbery, and it went so much smoother than any of the men you did the job with expected it to. So, it was obvious drinks would be needed. Maybe getting yourself drunk is exactly what you needed; whether or whether not you did, you were going to do it. And get drunk you—somewhat—did. You were a bit cheap, so you stopped yourself at tipsy with four shots of whiskey and a few rounds of beers that Arthur generously paid for everyone. Most people actually tapped out before you; surprisingly. Your guess was that they were simply too tired. By the end of the night, the only members left in the saloon out of your little group were Arthur, Dutch, Micah and yourself. You tapped out at your limit—more-so your wallets limit—and decided you'd also head out, saying so to the men deciding to keep on drinking. They told you to have a good night, and you returned the words before walking out.

And so, here you were, on the porch stairs a few feet before the saloon door, a cigarette held in your hand while you waited for the storm to die down a bit. The air was undeniably hot; seeing as the storm was happening late-July, which was odd. Your undershirt wasn't providing much warmth, and you hoped that the cigarette would do the job for you instead—to no avail.

You took shaky drags of your cigarette and blew the smoke out before yourself, hugging your body with your free hand. Seriously; why the hell was there a storm right now? At this time of year? It puzzled you, that much was sure. You just hoped it'd settle, even if by a bit, before you mounted up and left for camp.

The saloon doors creak, the old wood far past being an easy oil-it-up fix by now, and the owners too stingy and lazy to replace them. Spurs clank against the boots of the owner, that stops next to you.

"Hell you doin' out here, still?" Micah Bell. He had a very distinct voice; thick accent that muffled some of his words, just barely coherent when he spoke to you. A small drawl to it, like he was dragging the words out with him when he spoke them.

You explain your unfortunate situation—the coldness and wetness providing no sustainable condition to go riding right now—before you toss your cigarette into the muddy surface at the bottom of the stairs. He seems confused by your words, though. "So you'll shoot up half a town but is scared of a lil' water an' cold?" He teases you—like he does, every day. Everyone, at that. He always seeks his victim-of-the-day out easily, and that has been you today. What an honor.

You replied with a small scoff, shooing him off with your hand. "Oh, don't be like that girl," He lowered himself to a crouching position, now almost on level with you. "gotta let me tease you sometimes." His breath told you that he's had much more to drink than yourself, reeking of liquor and matching the usual scent of the saloon. But, that smelled seemed to match him.

"Quite a storm, yeah..." He watched the rain splash down onto the dirt road ahead, his forearms on his bent knees. "You ain't dressed for 'ts hellish weather either, huh?"

He's damn right; you're still shivering and hugging yourself for warmth, the cigarette previously in your hand providing barely any warming to your body.

But here's something you need to know; drunk Micah and sober Micah are two separate people.

He hummed in thought for a moment before clicking his tongue and standing back up, looking down at you. "Get up." You gazed up at him, creasing your eyebrows in confusion. You waited for some sort of explanation, unmoving—until he repeated himself, and you knew he wouldn't say it a third time. You stand up reluctantly, turning to face him and waiting for whatever he had in mind. The next action is one only of drunk Micah Bell; starting to unbutton his coat in front of you, every button revealing more of his red undershirt. He shrugged it off his body and took a step forward, draping it around you. At first, you really just assumed he was messing with you, trying to provoke a reaction before snatching the article of clothing right back. But no, he slipped it around you and took a step back, taking a moment to look at you. "It's a bit big.. but it'll help 'ya get home without'a sickness of some sorts."

You were dumbfounded. You knew Micah was much different when he's had some to drink—but this? This felt like the line was being blurred.

"Get home safe, and give it back when I'm in camp again, darlin'." He looked out at the road before turning back for the saloon, disappearing into the building with another obnoxious creak of the doors, leaving you silent and still in your spot outside.

Micah Bell gave you his coat.

Micah Bell told you to get home safe.

Micah Bell used a pet name on you.

Darling. Darling; he's never done this before, none of this, matter of a fact. Hell, he barely spoke to you, only ever interacting for job and mission-related purposes, or simple and brief small-talk. So, yes—this was goddamn shocking.

Your little trance was broken up by a brief thunderclap, lighting up the sky for barely half a second. You blinked a few times—clearly still processing whatever just happened—before you looked down. The leather coat hung very big on you, the sleeves hid your hands fully and it almost dragged on the floor. He wore it often, so it wasn't a surprise that the scent he usually carried plastered itself onto the jacket; gunpower, proof of many shootouts where he walked out victorious; smoke, the consequence of his bad smoking habits; musk, his usual scent that, honestly, you always connected to him. You liked the smell. Your body definitely appreciated the gesture, as it's stopped the goosebumps climbing up your arms and subsided the shaking of your body. You seemed to just accept the situation, wrapping the coat around yourself with one hand and keeping your other over the hat on your head, making a quick sprint to your horse. You mount up and urge it to start trotting towards camp, holding onto the reins with the hand previously on your hat.

Your steed definitely didn't appreciate the weather, much like yourself. She whinnied a lot, her own form of complaint. You promised her many treats as apology for putting her through the storm—despite you not being a weather forecaster, so really, how could you have known? Well, she won't care. If she could speak, you know you'd never hear the end of it. You just want to get home, as much as she does at that, and encourage her to keep riding. You've subconsciously brought your chin down to your chest inside of the coat, instantly getting yourself a whiff of that scent you felt earlier while still at the saloon. It's a fairly nice smell, you'll have to admit so. Your nose is right on the rim of the collar, and you can smell everything that you previously described.

Despite the acceptance of the current circumstances you've gotten yourself into, your mind is foggy—filled with unkempt, messy blonde hair; greyish-blue eyes and uniquely white eyelashes that make him stand out more than any camp member; a messy attractiveness linked to him. Boldness, secrecy, cockiness, vulgarity, degeneracy—very Micah Bell. Now, why is it that you're thinking so hard? Is it the coat—are you still stuck on the fact he would do such a thing? It shouldn't matter this hard; but it does. Nothings ever mattered more to you than figuring Micah Bell out.

He's truly a character, and you've caught yourself voluntarily wanting to talk to him, do jobs with him—all things that had the other girls in camp telling you to back off and not start with him. But it was never that simple, no. You felt obligated to seek him out, take a deeper look inside. You needed to know what his deal was, why he was the way he was.

Despite many protests, your horse gets you back to camp in a matter of minutes—ones that felt like hours to you, when thinking of the outlaw; whose scent is wrapped around yourself, his imprint all over your undershirt and on your body. That goddamn scent, it's doing things to you.

You hitch your horse just outside of camp, being extremely quiet while also quick to get out of the rain pelting down, just as hard as before. The last thing you both needed was someone seeing you wearing his coat—God knows what these people'll assume about it. You make a b-line for your tent, closing the rest of the camp and world out as you tie your flaps shut, the tent lit up by only a small oil lantern above your bedroll. Your hair is soaked, dripping to the ground and coat as the small water droplets race down the leather material. You find yourself subconsciously walking to a mirror, backing up and looking at yourself, in his coat. Your eyes trace your own form, intently. After a moment, you break yourself out of your space-out, shrugging the coat off and gently draping it onto a chair in your tent, to dry off. In the meantime, you change out of your own outfit, really not looking forward to getting any sicker than you probably are.

The water took it's time fully evaporating out of the coat, leaving a few small cracks in it and brittle slightly; more than before already. You felt mildly guilty—but he gave it to you, clearly already aware of what water will do to the fine material, so he shouldn't be upset. You hope. You're sat on your bedroll, watching the last few drops of rain fall off of the rim of the jacket. All you've been thinking about has been goddamn Micah—almost to the point of getting tired of it. And, just where was this coming from? You were lost. Maybe it was the tipsiness catching up to you—to be truthful, you hadn't had a true drink in weeks, so it might just be a... odd, new side effect. That's the excuse you'll go with, it seems.

Well, you assumed only alcohol consumption would make you want—no, need the coat on you again. It felt like it was beckoning you closer; luring you to itself like a siren does with her hypnotic voice, or as the fantasy books you see Jack read say. And, damn it, was it working on you.

You slowly got up, leaving your bedroll and strolling over to the chair, looking down at the piece of clothing. Your hands carefully pick the jacket up, running your fingers up and down the material, feeling every story-telling crease and cut, sometimes even finding little bullet wounds he never got sewn back up. Maybe he liked it that way. Then, one arm slips into the first sleeve—then the other, and you're wrapped around the coat again; around the scent; around Micah.

You look down at yourself, inspecting how the coat fits you, as if you haven't already done that enough times. And then, the goddamn scent again—you feel it creep around you, going straight for your nose. And damn you and your alcohol consumption, because you find yourself grasping the collar on both sides, and lifting them to your face. A delicious whiff of the smell, so memorable; so sweet; so unique; so Micah.

Jesus, what the hell are you doing?

You drop the collar from your hands and scrunch your nose up—at your own choice of action. Oh, but it only gets worse for you, as it always seems to. You go to take the coat off, ready to simply walk to his tent and toss it onto his bedroll, finally be done with all this. Yet, you hesitate. Your body protests, instantly showing it's against the idea when your hands freeze up, unable to slip the damned leather off of your bare shoulders. You hear yourself huff, getting frustrated. What was going on—why were you acting so goddamn weird?

Yet, you find yourself so easily accepting this, just how you accepted the coat to be wrapped around you by Micah, how you accepted the impulse of smelling it, and now the action of not taking away the article of clothing that's all over your body. You seem way too fine with all of this.

More-so with your body walking itself back to your bedroll and laying itself down—wrapping the coat around it tightly and simply basking in the aroma that's surrounding the leather over itself.

Your nose is pressed to the collar, acting almost as a weighted blanket on your frame. God, you feel like you're being lulled into your slumber. The smell, the feel, the weight of the coat—everything is like a goddamn drug to you. You're high off of it all; off of him.

Your eyes flutter closed, your breathing slows down, your arms tighten the coat around you.

Alcohol always made you a bit more sleepy than you'd have liked it to—so now, combine that with the heavenly feeling the simple item of clothing is giving you; you've never felt yourself fall asleep faster. You feel contentment, security, infatuation. And you decide that it's a welcomed feeling.

You never understood just how he functioned so well, so early into the day; especially knowing he was a heavy insomniac most nights. He never slept and always was and about by early morning, somehow. All you remember is waking up in his coat.

You decided to give it back early, be done with it for good. After your little display yesterday, you wanted nothing more to do with the coat. You knew he was awake, mostly by the one open canvas flap of his tent, a welcoming gesture, almost. Would be if we were talking about anyone but Micah.

You walked yourself over with the coat draped over your arm—not yourself, for once. You approached the small abode of the outlaw, kicking your boot against the canvas to announce your arrival. He grumbled something, only part you understood being a small "yeah, come in", and so you did. You hadn't yet been in his tent, for some reason. Guess it never interested you until yesterday; when you realized many things about yourself whilst wrapped around the leather material and distinctive aroma of Micah. Get it over with, you hummed, stepping inside.

For a man like Micah—and what you knew about him—his tent was pretty clean, surprisingly. He was sat on his bedroll, slowly rising as he noticed it was you coming to his tent. "Mm, mornin'." He drawled, walking up to you. "Finally here to return this, huh.." He quipped, looking down at you with one hand on his hip, the other extended for the coat. "thought you'd just keep it." He added quietly.

You were confused by the statement, asking him why you would just keep it. His answer had goosebumps reappearing all over your body, this time not from the cold, though. "After your little display; sleeping with my coat on, I thought you'd have just kept it alllll for yourself." Your blood would have run cold; if it didn't all flow right into your cheeks. Oh, God. Oh. God.

You knew you were turning red, looking like a beet, fresh out of the ground, plausibly. You couldn't look at him, not after that. You swore that your tent was tied oh-so-tightly, but it seems you were still sloppy with how you tied those damn flaps together. "Oh, don't be embarrassed," He leaned down closer, his hands on his knees as he got down to your level, not too fond of speaking down at you. "just ask me next time you want a little.. whiff." He hummed, taking the coat out of your hands and slipping it onto himself—with you watching like the little goddamn pervert you seem to be making yourself out to be.

You felt something stir in your stomach—why in the holy hell was he looking at you like that? That goddamn smirk; no anger about your weird display; nothing. And damn him for staying leaned down so close; probably able to see the sweat forming on your forehead. You were wishing for the earth to swallow you whole now.

His hand found your shoulder, squeezing it to get you out of your little trance again. "Go on about your day, girl;" His breath ticked the side of your neck, hitting a part of your ear as well. His voice was low, and the tone he was using with you as of right now? Your knees felt horribly weak. "but I might just have to keep my eye on 'ya, hm?" Oh, sweet Jesus.

Maybe it really was time to accept this—and fire back.

You blinked a few times, your eyes finding his beautiful blues. A small, murmured "thank you" left your lips; lips that then pecked his jawline and scruffy little beard. And, unable to control yourself, you did take in the smell of him again; the raw, unfiltered smell. Oh, it was the best thing you'll have ever gotten a whiff of. He was basking in cheap cologne—surprisingly—and gunpowder, his breath lingering about as he exhaled a noise of surprise breathlessly, his breath still soaked in the alcohol and liquor he had downed at the saloon. You had to brace yourself before you pulled away, unsure how he'd react—this was Micah Bell, after all.

You saw yourself in him, at that moment; shocked and red as a beet, trying to physically comprehend your move on him. Oh, if only boldness wasn't his biggest weakness. His hand squeezed your shoulder, gripping at it. Your body froze when he began to pull; drag you closer to him.

You couldn't stay in there for that—not until you sorted yourself out. And so, you detested and moved away, walking back and out of the tent, red and embarrassed—and feeling like a dog in heat, not to forget.

Micah was.. dumbfounded. Like yourself, when he offered his coat up. He managed to shut his mouth, but still, his eyes couldn't help lingering on the spot you once stood at, in his grip and kissing his jaw. When he finally broke himself out of the moment, he buttoned the long coat up to hide the obvious tightening in his pants, slipping his hands into his pockets. Though, the left pocket had an unusual item inside itself. Micah fished out a little box; ammo. You had left him a box of ammunition, 'for his troubles'; as the small note you scribbled onto said.

Damn you—and him for getting involved, because he knows he's not making it out of this unscathed.

Kudos on AO3 always appreciated! Thank you for reading and indulging in my insanity with me :)

[mbappeward]

you get into an accident while he is at a match - kylian mbappe imagine

it was a sunny afternoon in paris, and the city's vibrant energy filled the air. kylian mbappe, your boyfriend of 2 years now, was playing a match at parc des princes. you decided in the meantime to go for a walk. 

the bustling sounds of the city surrounded you as you walked, lost in your own world. the pedestrian light signaled your turn to cross, and you stepped onto the road, but just as your foot touched the road, you saw a car at high speed racing towards you. 

you tried to jump out of the way, but it was too late. the car struck you with a powerful force. pain coursed through your body, and the world around you spun into chaos. the last thing you perceive is people surrounding you. 

[ during the match] 

luis enrique quickly signaled for a substitution after receiving the news from the assistant manager, and mbappe was taken off the field. confusion and concern was written on his face as he was rushed to the locker room. “y/n got into a car accident, she's in emergency surgery right n-”. “she is WHAT??” kylian's world came crashing down. without a second thought, he quickly grabbed his car keys and rushed to the hospital. his heart raced with every passing second, and his mind was filled with worry for you. the world outside seemed to blur as he focused on getting to you.

at the hospital, kylian waited anxiously in the hallway, right infront of the room where you have surgery. pacing back and forth as he repeatedly checked with the medical staff for updates on your condition. every minute felt like an eternity as he prayed for your well-being. all he wanted was for you to be okay now. “please lord, let her be okay” he whispered.

finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the operating room doors swung open. a surgeon, dressed in blue scrubs entered. kylian immediately stood up, his heart pounding in his chest.

without uttering a word, kylian locked eyes with the surgeon, silently pleading for information about your well-being. the surgeon offered a gentle, reassuring smile, realizing the deep concern etched on kylians face.

"she's stable," the surgeon said, his voice calm and soothing. "the surgery went well, she still has a leg fracture meaning she cant walk around too much for the coming weeks. however we're doing everything we can to ensure her recovery."

kylian let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing for the first time since he heard the news. he nodded his gratitude to the surgeon, his voice trembling with emotion "thank you, doctor. that means the world to me." wiith a nod of understanding, the surgeon walked away. 

after the surgery, you were transferred to the intensive care unit  for closer monitoring and post-operative care. kylian went to the room, he composed himself before opening the door, his breath catching in his throat once he saw you. he stared down at you laying on the bed, still sleeping from the anesthesia, an IV tube in your arm and the heart monitor beeping steadily. a tear rolled down his cheek. he sat down next to you and held your hand “mon amour… i’m so sorry. i’m sorry I couldn’t have been there for you. you don't deserve this” he said as tears continued to stream down his cheeks, blurring his vision. he placed his head down, letting his tears fall on your intertwined hands. 

“kylian…”you said in a weak voice. your eyes adjusting to the bright light. his heart skipped a beat at the sound of your voice. his head snapped up and he began to wipe the tears out of his eyes. “y/n??? thank you lord, how are you feeling???” 

"i'm feeling a bit sore, but I'll be okay. i'm just grateful you're here with me." he leaned in and gently kissed your forehead. "i was so terrified, y/n. you have no idea" he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "i thought i had lost you." you managed a weak smile, your hand trembling as you reached up to touch his face. "i'm here and i'm okay. i couldn't leave you that easily, you know that" you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face and leaned down to kiss your forehead. "i'm so thankful you're okay. i love you so much," he whispered, his eyes filled with tears of happiness now.

tears welled up in your eyes as well, and you gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "i love you too, kylian, more than words can express."

the two of you sat there for a moment, sharing a tender and emotional connection that transcended words

after a while, a nurse entered the room, breaking the intimate moment between you two. she smiled warmly and said, i'm glad to see you're awake. how are you feeling?"

you glanced at Kylian, and he nodded, giving you the reassurance you needed to answer. "i'm in pain, but I'm grateful to still be alive."

the nurse nodded and began to check your vitals and adjust your pain medication accordingly. she then turned to kylian and said, "you can take her home now. make sure she gets plenty of rest and follows the doctor's instructions for her recovery." she said as she removed the IV tube from your arm, then she left the room. 

kylian helped you carefully get up and put on your clothes, being gentle and attentive to your needs. he helped you into a wheelchair, making sure you were comfortable before wheeling you towards the hospital's exit. 

the cold night breeze greeted you as you stepped outside, and a black car was waiting nearby, with kylian's chauffeur behind the wheel. the chauffeur opened the car door with a respectful nod as kylian carefully helped you settle in the back of the car, making sure you were comfortable and secure. he stowed your belongings securely in the back of the car. he climbed carefully into the backseats beside you, putting an arm around you while letting your rest on his chest, his reassuring presence providing a sense of security. 

as the engine started, kylian glanced at you, stroking your hair, his expression filled with love and reassurance. "we're on our way home, my love" he said softly, reaching over to your hand, rubbing it with his thumb. "just relax and let me take care of everything."

as the car pulled away from the hospital, kylian kept a watchful eye on you, making sure you were comfortable.

together, you embarked on the path to recovery, knowing that you had each other to lean on and that, with kylian by your side, you could face any obstacle that lays ahead.

[toournextadventure]

If you're able to do a story based on Katy Perry's The One That Got Away where the reader is immortal or a vampire and they were connected with Goody Addams (basically had a relationship or smthng with her idk her age) but moments before she was burned to death they had a "In another life I'll look for you" type of moment and R cant do anything because they were tied and held back forcing to watch Goody die the way she did. Then to the present, R finds Wednesday amidst the crowd and they just push through the crow to get to Wednesday hugged her while Wednesday has a vision of the R and Goody's past and they have this "I found you" , "You found me" moment. THANK YOU

I am OBSESSED with this premise, you're a GENIUS

i found you

“Goody, no!”

Your eyes flew open as the dark room enveloped you. The air was cold and the sound of the fan mixed with the rain outside to form the perfect sleeping conditions. It truly was a shame you had been awakened by yet another nightmare.

No, not another one. The same one.

Slowly, you sat up and rubbed the remaining sleep from your eyes. It seemed it was going to be another early day, just like yesterday. And the day before, and the day before that. Gods, you just couldn’t manage to get Goody’s burning face out of your mind. Hundreds of years had passed and you still couldn’t force yourself to forget.

A familiar burning sensation seared down your throat once your body had finally woken up enough to comprehend it’s needs. With a sigh, your feet hit the cold ground and you dug your toes into the rug before standing up. The fridge was only a few feet away in your tiny studio apartment, but still too far when it was this early.

“Shit,” you mumbled as you slammed your fridge door closed. Seemed you had run out of blood faster than anticipated. Well, it was a rainy day; you could pick someone out pretty easily and no one would be the wiser.

You sat down on your couch and turned to the first senseless show you could find at such an early hour. Something about restaurants, you didn’t really care to pay attention. Its only purpose was to kill time until you could reasonably walk around outside without drawing too much attention.

But the wait was torture. As the show droned on in the background, your mind drifted back to that day. To that day all those years ago where you were forced to watch the most painful thing you had ever witnessed, worse even than your own turning. The memories felt like a vice grip around your unbeating heart, squeezing what little life was left out of the cold muscle.

You wiped the tears away once the clock struck seven. No more use in sitting around feeling sorry for yourself, it was time to hunt. There was no need to try and protect yourself from the rain; you simply grabbed your coat so you could blend in with the rest of the morning crowd.

The smell of rain calmed the nerves that never seemed to truly disappear. It didn’t matter how many times you had actually hunted, a small part of you remained nervous with every outing. Maybe it was the fact that you were taking a part of someone’s life, you weren’t entirely sure. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t going to stop you. If Crackstone could be celebrated for his bigotry, you could live with taking just a bit of life force from a normie.

Call it reparations.

The streets were far more crowded than you had anticipated; a bigger selection, but far riskier. Good, it always added a sense of adventure. You found a nice stoop to hang out in as you watched the crowd walk by, your eyes searching each and every face that passed in an attempt to find your target.

Until your eyes froze on a familiar face, familiar hair, familiar eyes. A face that you would have recognised even in the darkest of nights. One that you hadn’t seen outside of your nightmares in over 200 years. And there she was, walking amongst the common folk as if she had not a care in the world.

You had to get back to her.

Wednesday loved the rain; the sound it made when falling against the umbrella, the smell of it on the concrete, everything about it. So she could be forgiven for deciding to walk that morning instead of having Lurch take her to her final destination. Her umbrella kept her dry and everyone gave her a wide berth.

Even with the space everyone was giving her, Wednesday could still see that someone was parting the crowd like the red sea. There was no chance she was going to move, not for some entitled asshole that was coming directly at her and-

-she felt arms envelope her in a hug so tight she almost couldn’t breathe.

The crowd around her vanished and was replaced by a different crowd, one full of pilgrims. The moon shone down on the screaming and cheering crowd and Wednesday pushed her way through to the center. There Crackstone stood next to a wooden pyre, and someone who looked just like her was tied up; Goody Addams, her mind told her.

Across the clearing was another pyre, one with someone else tied to it. You. You were struggling against the ropes, but the pilgrims around you kept you contained. One of the pilgrims carried a torch over to Goody, prepared to drop it at the bottom of the pyre.

“Look for me,” Goody said, her eyes staring at you and you only. There was an acceptance in her eyes, though it didn’t erase the fear.

“Goody, no!” You screamed once the pilgrim dropped the torch, and the roar of the fire echoed in Wednesday’s ears as she came back to the present.

She pulled back from the arms to see you, looking down at her with tears in your eyes and a pain on your face that Wednesday had seen only once. A look so full of fear and relief and absolute desperation. Your bottom lip quivered as your eyes scoured every inch of her face, her skin, her.

“I found you,” you mumbled, your words barely audible over the sound of the rain and Wednesday’s own heart.

“You found me,” she answered just as quietly, pulling you back into a hug and hearing a heartbeat that sounded familiar.

Sounded like home.

[cowboybrunch]

writerblr interview tag!

thank you for the tags @tragedycoded (here) @sableglass (here) and @saturnine-saturneight (here) <3 ive been meaning to get to this one for a minute sooo let's get into it

Short stories, novels, or poems?

i started with poetry, so it has a special place in my heart. all of my short stories turn into beasts. is it a cop out answer to say all of the above?

What genre do you prefer reading?

it'd be easier to list what genres i don't like. when i say ill read anything, i mean ill read anything. lately i've been on a sci fi kick (thanks Pierce Brown) but i love a good modern trashy romance as much as the next guy (i read the booktok sludge so you dont have to!) im not really a nonfiction guy but hey, if anyone has some recs, ill give em a shot

Are you a planner or a write as I go kind of person?

def NOT a planner. usually when i start writing i have a vague idea of where we start and where we need to end up, but what happens along the way is a surprise for everyone involved

What music do you listen to while writing?

SILENCE. sometimes white noise. i cant focus with music, brain gets jumbled

Favorite books/movies?

of all time? oh god for books, probably This Is How You Lose the Time War or The Song of Achilles but The Locked Tomb series is def up there. not a novel but i've read Bluets by Maggie Nelson so many times i probably have it memorized by now favorite movie is Zoolander, easy answer. that movie owns. i can watch it on repeat and ill never get sick of it

Any current WIPs?

Dust to Dust is still alive but im taking a bit of a hiatus before hopping into the final bit (tag is here if you wanna see me ramble about it) Felix Wonder is the fun time brain break WIP of choice currently and im working on draft 3 of Burden of the Reluctant Death (we will get to the ending this time. we will)

Create a character description of yourself: 

Elusive, or pretends to be. Too much energy in too small a body. Refuses to sit properly in a chair. Prone to fits of melancholy remedied by sunlight. Easily excitable, but fussy. Same outfit every day: big sweater, little pants, fuzzy socks. Nails bitten bloody but at least her hair is clean (if a bit too long for summer)

Do you like incorporating actual people you know into your writing?

i could say no but that would make me a liar

Are you kill happy with your characters?

i was gonna make a joke but it would be spoilers soo. i write about grief. no way everyone makes it out alive

Coffee or Tea while writing?

coffee. i dont like tea (sorry sorry!)

Slow or fast writer?

im very much a burst writer so. flood or drought, no in between. lately i'd say SLOW but im just waiting for that spark u get me?

If you were in a fantasy world, what would you be?

this really isnt fantasy but i feel like i was destined to be the kind, slightly off-putting maintenance man in a haunted apartment building that says cryptic things like "don't take the east elevator on a full moon" and "the air conditioning has made that noise since the fire in 12B"

Most fav book cliche:

yea there's only one bed and ill eat it up every single time!!! also: "i didnt know where else to go" or basically any overdone romance trope you can think of. im here for it

Least favorite cliche:

if there's a cliche that i dont like, i havent found it yet

Favorite scene to write?

confession scenes of any kind! scenes where the big tough character breaks down. any kind of emotional revelation, positive or negative

Reason for writing?

words in head, need words out of head ok ok fine, serious answer. i feel like writing is both asking and answering the question, "have you felt like this before? has anyone ever felt like this before? am i alone?" and it's proof that you're not the first and only person to ever experience the things you're experiencing. even this made up guy in this pretend world understands rage and despair and joy and grief and love. the source is different but the result is the same. human connection, man. love it and! it's fun. im having fun

tag!!

@knightinbatteredarmor @friendlesscat @tildeathiwillwrite @glassonthewall @illarian-rambling

@mysticstarlightduck @dyrewrites @sarandipitywrites @oliolioxenfreewrites @xenascribbles

[akari-saka13]

“ when the sky was grey ” - beomgyu x reader

summary : you and your friend beomgyu are having a nice day out when suddenly he gives you big news that changes ur guys friendship forever.

beomgyu x reader genre : friends to lovers (non-capitals on purpose)

your day was planned, you’d go out with beomgyu to a cafe you’ve been wanting to go to for a long time. you were practically overflowing with happiness and excitement as you happily walked your way out ur door. just as you stepped out your door you look up too see the grey sky and your best friend beomgyu standing on the sidewalk admiring the windy atmosphere. you cant help but look at the boy in admiration as he looks very pretty mindlessly waiting for you.

“beom! im ready lets go!” as you speak in your cheerful voice he turns around in surprise then gives you a toothy smile before making his way towards you.

“okay okay.. we’ll get going right now! you see excited hm?” he says leading on the conversation with just as much happiness written on his face.

“of course i am! i’ve told you i wanted to go to this cafe for months… surprised you agreed to go with me!” as you say that he turns his head towards you and gives you his signature happy smile.

“anything for you.” as he says that his face goes red and he looks forward again. you cant help but stare at the boy because he mindlessly said something that flustered you so easily. as you stare at his you cant help but see all the perfect things about him his nose, his eyes, his smile, his lips..

lately you cant help but admire the boy every time you see him, its become a habit. you cant tell why you admire and care for him so much but your not complaining. as you both walk in sync you make mindless chat talking about the things friends do when out together. as you slowly approach the entrance of the cafe you get a extra burst of excitement thinking of all the yummy deserts you and beomgyu are going to eat.

as you get to the door beomgyu runs in front of you and holds the door open for you before saying “you first” with a cheeky smile on his face. as you walk in you feel the cool air conditioning blow and rush towards your skin and a shiver goes down your spine.

“are you cold?” beomgyu looks at you with his doe eyes, you cant help but smile as he takes off his cardigan and grabs your arm to put his sweater on you before you could fight back.

“thank you..” you say with a small embarrassed smile on your face. you always appreciate his small acts of kindness and “friendship” towards you.

as you both walk over to the counter to order your eyes look up at the menu before you hear beomgyu’s voice saying something.

“hello, can i get 2 latte’s with cinnamon and extra cream? also a chocolate donut.” as he orders you cant help but noice he got your favorite drink and dessert right. you smile then move to stand next to him before you reach into your bag for your wallet while you tell the boy thank you for ordering.

“thank you-“ as you try to hand the cashier your card your hand gets shoved away by beomgyu’s.

“don’t worry about it.. i’ll pay!” he says in a cheerful way before handing the cashier his card so she could finalize the transaction. after he gets his receipt he shoves it in his pocket before grabbing you hand and leading you to a corner side table in the cafe. as you both take a seat and he lets go of your wrist you cant help but feel a warm sensation on your face and hand.

after a few minutes a couple numbers get called till they say “number 27!” as you both hear the number being called beomgyu bolts up from his seat and goes to get your guys orders. the atmosphere of the cafe was all you imagined and being there with beomgyu made it 10 times better. as beomgyu sits back down he gives you your food and drink and you think him till you hear a chime coming from your phone. as you look down to see what it is you feel beomgyu’s wondering eyes looking at you.

“what you doing..?” he says questioning you.

“this guy asked for my number!” you responded nonchalant.

“are you giving it to him?” he looks kind of angry after hearing your past statement but you decide to ignore it for now.

“i don’t see why not.. why?” you answer in a questionable voice. to be honest you’ve never told beomgyu when people hit on you, due to most of the time you decline them or shut it down.

“DONT-“ he says almost yelling and getting the few other costumers attention.

“why not..?” he just looks at you in a apologetic way and doesn’t respond to your questioning. after all that it was kind of awkward small talk happened but not like usual.

when you finish your food you both stand up and beomgyu looks at you like he wants to say something, you notice and look at him waiting for him to make his statement.

“can we talk..?” he says in a very unsure way which makes you very confused but you nod slowly as you both walk out the cafe. as you both walk you look up at the grey sky admiring the chilly atmosphere till beomgyu stops walking.

“is something wrong..? you say in a unsure voice.

“y/n.. i like you, like a lot.” you look at the tall boy with shock written all over your face. “I don’t mean like your just a good friend. I wanna be more with you… i want you to myself, i know it may be selfish but i cant stand it! i want you to be mine and no one else’s.. it’s like your the only one that can make me happy.” as he says that quickly you cant help but feel your heart hitting your chest. he looks at you with his big eyes before just engulfing you in a big bear hug.

“i like you too.” thats all you say before he hugs you tighter and you stay there for a while accepting eachothers feelings and embrace.

fin~

thank you so much for reading! its my second post so i hope you enjoyed!! lots of love<33 If you have any requests or ideas feel free to send them too me it’ll make my day!!

I thought of this short story/one shot myself! if u wanna take inspiration feel free.. please tag me id love to see your ideas and writing!

[pollstuck]

-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --

GG: yo yooooooo!!!!!!! TG: whoa ok hey GG: so youre finally playing the game with flighty? TG: yeah TG: but she wont answer me GG: shes probably just exploring im sure she will come around soon.... GG: but its great that you got her out of there in time!!! TG: pretty much you have no idea how much i fuckin own at this game TG: i bested no less than three flaming tornados and broke a huge wizard GG: so how does it feel to be a BIG TIME HERO GG: mister braveybrave mcheropants TG: it feels like TG: i am in sports TG: all alone TG: and i am the star TG: its me TG: and then the big man comes GG: hehehe GG: but it turns out to be CRAZY what kind of basket ball this man plays! GG: ummmm...... GG: the HOOP IS ON FIRE... GG: ok i forget how it goes TG: no you got it TG: we're good TG: reference secured GG: yes!!!!!! GG: so now it is my turn to be the star! GG: i will be your hero GG: its me TG: wait what GG: i installed the game! GG: im connecting to you as the server player TG: oh man TG: this is ridiculous TG: i just set this shit up with flighty and now i got to do like TG: some double duty thing TG: i mean i own at the game and all but cant i just relax for half a second GG: dont worry! GG: you can keep playing with flighty while i just set up a few things GG: i figured id get a good head start to avoid all the drama you guys are always getting into GG: such a bunch of drama queens!!! TG: what TG: look i was getting my ass handed to me by my bro on the roof for like an hour and a half TG: i got served like a dude on butler island GG: (DRAMA DRAMA DRAMA) TG: wait does this mean theres a big meteor coming soon GG: yes! TG: when you activate the thing will it start the countdown and summon the meteor GG: itll come when it comes regardless of what we do GG: the timer really just lets you know when its coming TG: are you totally sure about all this GG: yes look here it is!

-- GG sent metor.jpeg --

TG: ok yes that image is definitely conclusive proof of something and is 100% understandable by anyone who looks at it TG: how big is this thing GG: it is REALLY REALLY big TG: like the size of rhode island or texas or what TG: i need some context to know how much crap i should be shitting into my pants GG: ok i dont actually know :( TG: well as if like one the size of a bus wouldnt kill me anyway GG: hehe yeah.... TG: wait hold on flighty is finally opening her stupid laptop TG: so do your thing i guess TG: have fun GG: thanks i will! (heart emoticon)

It's almost as if this broken AIR CONDITIONING UNIT was scaled to be a perfect fit for the ALCHEMITER all along.

WEIRD!

TG: hey wait GG: these darn birds are in the way! GG: what are they doing in your apartment anyway!!! GG: also they are adorable TG: i always keep birds in here its sort of my thing GG: ohhhhhhh GG: kind of like all those silly naked puppets are your bros thing? TG: no no thats irony this is like TG: sincere honest to god psychosis TG: im training to be a lame gothy supervillain GG: also i think i cant put it down because of the wires on the floor..... TG: ok TG: well maybe you should take the opportunity to put it somewhere that isnt stone cold ridiculous GG: i wish i played more games GG: this is hard!!!! TG: no its not GG: :P

TG: are you fucking kidding me

GG: oh fuck!!!!!!

TG: farmstink what the hell! TG: you could have used literally ANYTHING to open the doomsday doohickey up and you used the toilet??? TG: hello? TG: oh god TG: are you asleep

[weaselingron]

After moving to live in the relative peace of the muggle world with Ron and Hermione, just to exist is peace for a while, Harry learnt how to drive a muggle car. It was truly one of his favourite things to do.

Oddly enough, it was the slowness he liked. You couldn't truly keep this pace up for long on a broom. No. You'd have to stop. You'd have to admire your surroundings being as still as a rock.

Often he would wake up from a nightmare, go to check on Ron or Hermione. Usually they both would be awake as well.

Harry would hold up the car keys in silent question, Ron would leave to get his slippers.

They would kee the roof up while in the city. The street lamps casted shadows inside the car that they could watch for days. Little fleeting lights that came and went as they moved. Sometimes harry would charm a sticker or two onto the window just to see how that changed the shadows.

Then came Ron's favourite part. They'd unzip the roof and pull a lever till the roof of the car folded in on itself without any magic. "It's bonkers they figured out how to do that!"

They cruised through the night in fresh air and greenery on either side, wheels charmed not to sink in the muddy trails of rural districts they never learnt the names of as they observed every star, sitting Harry's shiny convertible.

Harry's favourite of these little excursions had been that one time he drove directly under an insane meteor shower.

Harry hadn't even noticed the problem. It had been so slow. His field of vision getting smaller and smaller till he knocked over cups he should have seen in his periphery, or looked for hours for his wand sitting right by his side.

Hermione had been asking him mre often if something was wrong, he would dismiss her with gentle cajoling and diverting the conversation to her newfound interest in fantasy fiction.

It's not until they were back in the car and Ron's high pitched scream of alarm stopped Harry from crashing the car into a boulder covering half the pathway in front of them that he realised he was turning his neck to watch for traffic from the next lane over.

The guilt was strange. He was guilty because when the muggle doctor stamped a death sentence onto his days of stargazing, his anger had been so much greater than any remorse or fear from almost crashing the car with his best friends in it.

It was just mad that after everything that happened in his life, he wasn't allowed to watch some damned shadows in his stupidly expensive muggle car; that he couldn't just sit and enjoy a damn sunset with those who cared more than himself to keep him alive. It wasn't fair.

Nothing had been fucking fair.

He can't drive without putting their lives in danger now and it seemed a but unfair to sod off on his own after how hard they'd worked to keep him alive.

Stupid, mad, unfair, repulsive fucki- Keys dangled in front of what was left of his eyes. He looked up and tried to focus, "Ron? I cant drive."

"But I can."

"After the angela?"

Harry thought he saw Ron roll his eyes, but he couldn't be sure. "Spend weeks serectly learning to drive muggle death contraptions for your best bloke and this is how he thanks you."

"Wait, you-?"

"Get in the blasted car, Harry."

Harry hadn't been able to wipe the grin off of his face that whole night, "You know Ron it's way more fun on this end. Don't have to watch the road, you can focus on the shadows for as long as you want... almost prettier this way."

"Yeah? We can always keep doing it this way."

"I'll have to find new things to like. I wont see these shadows for long now."

Ron didn't reply.

It was Hermione who finally convinced him, months later, that patient laws were strict enough that he could go see a mediwitch, "Just incase there was better treatment."

Turns out all his stars were being stolen by a few clots. "It's because of the stressful life you've had. Stress is the main cause of your condition. All you need is two spells, a few months of rest and the vizinstae potion thrice a week." She had said.

Harry personally thought it might have more to do with the blinding flash of cameras that went off the second he stepped out of her clinic.

Nevertheless, he couldn't fault her judgement, not when her conclusions seemed to be proving correct.

"Ron, I have working now. You don't always have to drive, you know."

"I don't mind it. Its relaxing, going through the motions."

"Sure, but you don't have to be a chauffeur like this."

"I want to. You deserve a little care after all that, mate."

"After all what?"

Ron looked at him like he'd gone loopy.

"Eyes on the road!"

"Relax! I've been doing this almost a year!"

"That's what I'm saying! You should let me drive."

"Harry do you *like* driving?"

"No!"

"Then let me drive you around!"

"But you deserve a break too! You've been *right* there with me."

"Atleast I chose to be."

"What?"

"I chose to be. Through everything. With you. We both did."

Hermione was asleep in the back seat. She had been sleeping a lot since the war. She insisted she was okay but they'd seen the books she read these days. Sleep disorders and the like.

Harry thought it was better than not sleeping at all, so he didn't bother her much.

None of them really knew what to do about any of it.

They drove in silence for a while, till Harry's mind once again got lost in in sound of rustling leaves and trimming engines and his eyes unfocused onto the stars till they were blurry balls of light bathing him in their elixir.

He didn't question waking up sandwiched in Ron and Hemrione's bed the next day, but decided to be there more often.

I kind of like really like the idea of Harry being a permanent passenger princess

[gravessyard]

Headcanons - genshin men with the knowledge that you're a vampire: Childe (+Zhongli mention)

Notes from the crypt: ive got a cold! Yay! Its kicking my ass but it also gave me Childe brainrot, so this piece is much longer than the other 2 ive done >:) enjoy!

Tags: GN!Vampire!reader, dom!childe, smut, lots of blood, some gore but not heavily detailed

• Oblivious bastard could make eye contact with all of the signs that are in his face and he'd still brush it off as something else.

• He only sees you when the sun is setting/already nighttime? You must be so busy during the day!

• You dont take up his offer for lunch or drinks but wouldnt hesitate to drink whatever Zhongli puts in front of you? It must be difficult being a picky eater.

• He runs into you gutting a boar with your bare hands and drinking its blood while Zhongli stands to the side with plenty of towels in his arms? Weird way to train but okay!

• It wasnt until MONTHS after that last encounter that he even got an inkling that something was off about you, and he found himself sitting across the former geo archon in Third Round Knockout. It was a little offputting not seeing you by his side, but the consultant reassures him that you're simply resting and will return when the sun isnt beating down on Liyue.

• A few hours of back and forth did little to clear the fog in Childe's mind, every time he tried to ask about your "condition", Zhongli would either redirect the conversation or give some open, vague answer that Childe couldn't pick apart, as sharp as he was. The last thing he heard before the two parted ways was a simple "perhaps its better if you learned from them directly".

• Thats exactly what he planned to do, until he was sent away from the city for an emergency mission. According to documents, some of his men were being slaughtered like lambs near the chasm, and he's to deal with the culprits personally and report the damages back. He's pissed, frustration coursing through him while he rounds up his backup and makes the trip out to the chasm, you still on the forefront of his mind. He had all the pieces, all he had to do was fit them together, yet just when it was all about to click, the sounds of screams and roaring broke him from his big brain moment.

• Geovishaps, more than he's ever seen in one location, were running rampant in the camps, destroying tents and crates of supplies while also tossing around fatuus like they were ragdolls. Take one down and two more seemed to appear from the mountains while Childe did his best to keep them away enough for the troops he brought to drag survivors away, it was disastrous. The smell of blood was definitely in the air, the sun starting to dip in the horizon and he knew if he and his men didnt move quick enough, they'll all be taken out when the sun goes down.

• A second of hesitation was all it took for a geovishap to slam him against a tree, monstrous roar ringing in his ears and the sounds of rapid steps approaching him, he thought of transforming into his foul legacy form as a desperate last resort, but was stunned when the roaring creature was suddenly silenced, completely beheaded by the figure that suddenly appeared in front of him. His head is spinning, but he cant mistake your clothes. His heart flutters, a weak hand reaching out towards you and your name coming out in a whisper before you're kneeling before him, assessing his injuries and taking his hand in yours. "Dont move, ill get you all to safety."

• "I know...... what you are", Childe still forces out before he erupts into wet coughs. You furrow your brows, concern etched all over your features before you encourage him to continue, no doubt he finally pieced together this puzzle he's been struggling with. "You're........ anemic", was all he could manage before he lost consciousness, going limp and completely missing the look on your face. Part of you wants to break out into a laugh, the other part is confused on how he even came to that conclusion, but the biggest part of you knew that any teasing would have to wait until you get him and his team out of the vicinity of the rampaging geovishaps, so after barking an order to a frightened fatuus, you turned towards the current disaster and make quick work of taking down the geo creatures.

• Childe wakes up in a bed that he doesnt recognize, it doesnt have anything fatui related nor does it seem to be a hospital room. He notes the little trinkets he sees, memorabilia and ancient books before the door opens and you're walking in with a glass of water in one hand and a bowl of fruit in the other. He sits up to the best of his ability, which wasnt much since he's hissing and groaning in pain. "Stop moving, you'll only hurt yourself more", you softly scold him, placing the water and fruit on the bedside table before pressing a gentle hand to his bandaged chest and easing him back into a laying position. Childe catches your hand before you could pull away, keeping it close to his chest and its then he realizes just how cold your skin is compared to his.

• "Anemic? Really Tartaglia?", you snicker, breaking the tension in the room and he flushes in embarrassment, face scrunching into a cute pout. "What? Thats all I could think of! Fine, why dont you tell me what you are then", he huffs, idly playing with your fingers while you chuckle and lean in close to his ear, amused in the way he shudders. "Im a monster of the night, my dear harbinger. A vampire", your voice trails off in a whisper while you lick along his neck, right where his jugular is and it took everything in him to supress his moan into a whimper. Hearing it come from you gave him all the answers he needed, all of the evidence he refused to believe was now mocking him, the way you avoided sunlight, your "picky" eating habits and not to mention the insane amount of strength you seemed to possess by being able to literally swipe a geovishap's head clean off its body.

• Archons help him now, he was down bad. It was the hottest thing he's ever learned about you, and his third eye is now opened with the fantasies of you drenched in blood and toying with him. You refused to touch him while he was still resting, despite all his whining and begging, his ribs still needed to heal. It was agonizing not being able to touch you, to feel you beneath him with the sickly stench of blood permeating both of your skins, but what was worse was that you refused to feed from him, not because you didnt want his blood but because he needed it more than you did and you had already fed.

• Jealousy reared its ugly head when he learned that you'll feed from someone once in a blue moon, when hunting doesnt suffice, and he's already trying to pry names out of you. Much like the elusive archon however, you give him vague answers in hopes that he wont try and hunt down your current blood donor, since it very much was Zhongli. It was strictly a business proposal, you'll feed from him, and in return you take care of his finances and duties while he's recuperating. Of course, it was only a matter of time before Childe is up and about, trailing your every move until he spots you guiding a dizzy Zhongli back to his place one night. He was slumped on your shoulder, murmuring praises in your ear that you just snort and giggle at while easily holding him up, blood smeared on your lips and cheeks that makes Childe's blood boil. He waits until you settle Zhongli down to rest, and as soon as you leave his home, Childe pounces.

• He prefers to have you to himself in the comfort of your home, but the alleyway outside of Zhongli's house will have to do while he's slamming you against the wall, body pressed so close to yours you can feel the way his heart pounds, can hear his blood rushing through his veins and see the clear jealousy in his eyes that are locked on your blood stained lips. "Whats wrong, Tartaglia? Vampire got your tongue?", you smirk, curious on how many buttons you can push. He growls, hand moving up to squish your cheeks in his fingers, the hold on your face almost painful. "From now on, you feed from me", his voice was deep, the dark look in his eyes sending a shiver up your spine when his lifeless blue orbs meets yours, and at that very moment your business transaction with Zhongli was terminated.

• It was messy and uncoordinated but in the heat of the moment it was bliss to Childe, cock messily thrusting into you while he's holding one of your legs up. Your bottoms were tossed aside somewhere, still intact after a few minutes of begging him not to tear them off because you'd still like to walk home with some form of decency, but Childe knows you wont be doing much walking after he's done with you anyway. You moan against his skin, fangs sunken in the juncture of his neck and shoulder and he groans, panting heavily while he whispers filth into your ear. "I hope he's listening, ngh", he shudders out a moan when you clench around him, clawed fingers leaving red along his back while he picks up his pace, the echoes of slapping skin reverberating in the night air. "Fuck..! You hear that? Hear how you're taking my cock so nicely? I bet Zhongli cant do that", he's snarling, orgasm beginning to bubble over and he's hoisting your other leg up. You gasp in shock, pulling away from his neck with a wet pop to grab onto his hair and shoulder for balance while he's ramming into you wildly now, forcing an orgasm out of you that had your eyes rolling back and your tongue hanging out for him to suck onto. He moans into your mouth, the taste of blood snapping the coil in his gut that has him pushing his cock impossibly deep to fill you up with his seed.

• He was insatiable, as soon as he carried you back to your house he throws you onto the bed for many more rounds. It looked like a crime scene in the morning, with blood all over the sheets and somehow on the wall, the stench of blood was sickly in the air but he's smiling like a dork while watching you sleep, dried blood on your jaw that somehow compliments the love marks he left on you.

• Definitely got a long lecture from Zhongli about what he heard last night, but he has no complaints about reassigning his business transaction to Childe, after a very lengthy interview about what he expects from Childe moving forward with his relationship with you. Seriously, it was scary.

[muffindaddystyles]

Someone hurts Y/N at work; and Harry’s owner of the company.

Angry young man CEO!H very protective of his lovie :)))))))))))))

It was Tuesday. Tiring Tuesday is what Y/N calls them to be because they lurk in the middle of week and drags you after a Monday. Today, it’s the worst fucking Tuesday since the day she started working at this company.

Harry offered her. More to say tried to convince her with his sweet puppy tactics, tried to lure her in with his seductive begging and would mumble the same thing in her sweaty neck while balls deep in her, “Please sweet toots ... promise I wouldn’t be there to take ye' interview, please work in my company.” He squished her sides in desperation. Y/N whined, mind too occupied in the way he’s leaking into her, the head of his cock angled to rub at her spongy wall making her hug herself into him.

“I could be a very hard boss in my office, ‘s all ‘m saying.” He wiggled his brows at her playfully, hissing when his double joke earned him a tight fit around his prick and he was soon forgetting all of it when she canted her hips to let him slick deeper inside her.

It’s not that; Y/N doesn’t wants to work at his company. When her boyfriend asked her so sweetly and stout-heartedly. Call him a sap but he actually wants to be closer to her in every possible chance he gets – she gives him an unyielding amount of comfort and happiness when she’s with him.

There’s this silver of pride he wants to take (since he’s the biggest narcissists) in being a power couple, because in the end everything will be theirs.

But she doesn’t want to seem like she took advantage of him. She didn’t study and worked hard many years to be called dependent on her boyfriend. She wanted to find her first proper job herself – feel all the odds and jitters of her firsts after UNI.

Harry called the battles off knowing his little stubborn baby’s too much a wiggler and he believes in her and he’s very proud of her previous achievements, he just wants to see her happy working with him or not.

She indeed got it. She was finally a design editor at a grand magazine company, excited to meet her boss who’s one of her absolute favourite graphic designers in the industry.

Harry and her celebrated her baby step towards her success by going out at this cafe which had cats you can pet and love on.

He was blissed to see her this happy, considering it a win win situation. But she doesn’t need to know? Does she? And Harry didn’t do anything suspicious? Did he? Nobody even know who she's! And if Y/N wants that, he’ll have it that way.

Soon her enthusiasm deflated like a sorrowful balloon whirling in the air for seconds before falling on the ground and getting it’s existence neglected, because, her boss was the meanest bitch alive.

At the moment, Y/N forced the pertinacious lump of pathetic tears down her throat, not blinking to dry out the moisture threatening to fall from her waterline feeling humiliation creep up her skin and making her want to shrink into herself and never show her face.

She listens patiently and optimistically as her boss practically screams at her for not liking the designs Y/N worked to modify for damn 62 hours and the Karen still had an audacity to degrade, Y/N.

Y/N gasped, stumbling back in fright shock when the file that had her precious designs composed in it flew and hit Y/N, the ragged corner of it scratching Y/N’s delicate skin and her boss was spinning away from her to stare coldly at the bustling city outside through the window drowning into fumes and anger.

Y/N opened her mouth, guppy like. Wanting to say something back and call her out on her act but she felt like her voice got strangled into her chest.

ShitShitShitShit.

Hammering in her brain when she felt something warm oozing from her skin and she’s panicking, wiping a vicious streak of blood from her jaw with her trembly fingers and scuttled straight to the washroom before anyone was able to see her in such vulnerable condition.

She had enough of it and left out of there without a word to anyone, not even to her cubby mate. She bottled all the emotions that were rattling against her bones to flood out of her each pore, until she could reach her home and once she did she was having a humongous and ominously scary breakdown, glad that Harry was stuck in meetings and the house was all of hers to cry ugly.

Once she was all blue lips, puffy and swelled up cheeks and eyes, nest of a hairstyle and all burned up lungs she was calming herself down with deep breaths just Harry taught her.

Scrubbing and cleaning herself off then going to bed without waiting for Harry, something very rare and the right hit in the nail for him to know she isn’t feeling well.

He was welcomed by silence. No dinner, just leftovers in fridge and his insides became all crummy and not very pleasant when he tailed to the living room and wasn’t met by his lovebug; either cramming her head to sketch down designs with an ipad in her lap while a buzz of random Netflix show accompanies her, dossing off cutely with hundreds of her study journals and magazines messed around her on the floor, or her in sleeping pyjamas with food already set up on the coffee table and brightening the whole room with her squeals when Harry announces his presence.

None of that instead he finds her in their bedroom, drowned under layers of blankies and her stuffies with room lit dark.

He coos softly, mattress dipping down from his weight and his heart expands and melts all around his other organs at how adorable she looks sleeping in his hoodie. He chuckles shaking his head at the way she has the strings of the hoodie squeezed around her head, not sure how she’s able to breath at how tight it seems around her neck.

Doing his own routine he was slipping into the bed, sighing from the warmth and how toasty she has made the bed already.

He bunched her against his chest and kissed her head then spooned her up in his arms, lips fluttering into a smile when she hummed and sniffed basking into his scent.

“Oi sleepy.” He whispers down at her cupping her neck and giggles softly when she whines mushing her cheek against his chest only to grunt sleepily and muffle her yelps into his sweatshirt.

Harry’s brows shoots up into slight bafflement then dips down into a frown when he slipped his calloused palm under her hoodie to cradle her jaw and felt something graze against his thumb that was about to press into her soft skin to bring her for a night kiss.

“Hey...” He perches himself on elbows, switching on the lamps and ignores her groans grasping the blanket she was about to pull over herself, huffing at him to let her sleep but Harry’s more stubborn than her if it involves assuring himself she’s okay and right now she’s not and Harry was already feeling it in his bones.

“Lemme see.” He persists gently, peeling the blankets and the hoodie off her head while she’s still stirring into sleep not able to open her eyes how much she tries because of the exhaustion dumped on her from whole day.

He stares at the wound she did a shit effort to cover with a gauze messily over her jaw and tiny bit area of her neck, a long bandage reaching to her ear and Harry tries to think rationally and not freak out as he touches it with cautious fingertips.

“What ... the –- fuck, Y/N what is...is this?” His mouth falls slack. His ears buzzing for a moment and he wraps his arm around her shoulder to bring her up as he leans them against the bedhead.

He feels bad when she knuckles at her eyes warily and mumbles something that’s barely audible.

“What happened, baby? Talk t’me? How did y'hurt yourself so bad?” Worried and fearful. He bombs her with questions not waiting for her to be fully awake and his heart breaks miserly upon focusing his gaze on her face, her angelic face that’s now soaked with sadness –- she’s been crying.

His loves been crying and he wasn’t there for her.

“Who did this to you?” Y/N's eyes widens abruptly. The alertness in them vivid for Harry to see under the lamp glow and she gasps, nose twitching and lip wobbling as Harry grabbed her chin and ducked to her eyelevel to ask her tenderly with a layer of strictness under his tone, “’M asking, Who did this to you, Y/N?” Her fragile heart could already take so much and she strangled out a sob lowering her head down in embarrassment.

“’M.. I’m —-.. no –..not telli –-..telling you,” She hiccups breathlessly, shaky fingers fisting onto the blanket thrown over Harry’s lap and he holds her hands kissing them gently, “I’ll know it one way or another baby. Don’t force me to get outta my way to find —–“ His soul stabbing glare was enough for Y/N to ramble and at first he thought he didn’t heard her right, that she was mumbling too much but when the reality seeped in gradually Harry almost froze in his spot.

“I know it’s very shameful —..” Y/N stammers barely able to get in a breather and Harry’s head snapped at her words, removing his nails away from making little graves in his palms and his jaw which almost felt like breaking from the hinges from how painfully furious he had it set relaxes as he tries to calm himself down and not to grab his keys and drive to that bitch's house to trash her place.

Because how fucking dare she treat anyone like that in his own fucking company.

“Hey, hey. Now none of that toots. Look at me darling, oh my sweet moppet ... shh.” It slices his heart in pain to see Y/N like this -- so small and disheartened. How dare she hurt his such delicate, sweet, loving girl like that? How!?

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of yourself moppet. She should be, fo’ being such a heartless prick.” He spat, his guts full of bitter and hatred. His skin hot, his grip on her tightening protectively and his chin quivers trying to lock all his anger inside and not to burst out like a pressure cooker.

“I’ll deal with her tomorrow.” He nods curtly to himself, poking his tongue to wet his grimacing lips and Y/N was too woolly to get what’s he’s saying.

His gaze flitters back on her. His demeanour turned incredibly soft and gentle for her smooching a big generous kiss to her salty lips and then to both of her cheeks cared in both of his palms, “Are y'okay? D'you want me to take you to hospital?” She shakes her head mewling and melting and caressing herself into his wrist.

“Why didn’t you call me baby?” He asks her doing anything in his power to mask the hurt in his tone and sighs touching his forehead to her's when Y/N sniffled, “Didn’t wan’ you to worry.” He slid his forearm under her bum and scooched her atop of him, patching tiny careful pecks to her jaw.

“But, that’s love moppet. Worryin’ bout you, takin’ care of ye' and beating anyone raw who even dares to have evil intentions towards you,”

“Remember the time y'snubbed that one guy’s oh so expensive shoes who was very rude to me at one of your graduations party?” His simper turning into a proper ironic grin when she giggled hoarsely nodding along and the tension in his muscles released watching her getting better.

“Proper broke his big toe with your heel darling.” He giggles with her and then Y/N realised how sad and awful Harry’s feeling, how it’s hurting him the same way it hurt her an year ago.

“How about we have a glass of milk .... it’ll help us sleep less grumpy y'know.” He murmurs in the crook of her neck, elbow cocooned safely around her shoulder blade as he kisses the side of her head again and again nose buried in her hair to smell her treacly smell.

.

In the morning he was tragic to hear Y/N sound so heartbroken and dejected as she told him, “I’m going to resign and accept your offer.” Her smile small and sad, hugging him looping her limbs around his torso lazily.

“’kay baby, but first eat your brekkie.” He kissed her hair and squished her pout when he moved away to make some calls to his assistant.

Y/N had no-idea what he was upto. Glad that he was driving her to the company and that he was immensely supportive of her decision, her insides pooled with warmth and giddiness when he tried to cheer her up with his silly jokes and singing along the radio murmuring rubbish whenever he forgot the lyrics.

She was utterly confused when upon reaching he was giving the keys to valet boy to park his car and interviewing their fingers in a strong grip before leading her inside, even though she should be the one to do so.

She sputters a, “Huh?” when instead of telling her he’d wait for her in the lobby he’s rounding the corner towards the elevators and turns his wrist to push her infront of him to keep her closer to himself all the time.

When the doors are sliding apart the people scurrying outside halts for a moment, not looking Harry in eyes and keeping their heads low.

Phones were already rung in the building that Mr. Styles will be coming un-announced and everyone should be prepared to face the consequences if they stumble upon him – because well he isn’t in such a nice mood to start with.

“Harry.” She pokes him in ribs feebly, stepping away from him feeling timid due to few pair of eyes in elevator watching her awkwardly and maybe judgingly.

The tension in space could be cut through knife, as if everyone’s holding their breaths and she pouts taking a good look at Harry who’s smirking smugly confident in his element.

Do they all think her boyfriend’s way too intimidating and out of reach for them? They should know he’s such a sweetie!

Y/N huffs. Folding her arms over chest when Harry paws at her hips and pulls her back against his chest resting his chin atop of her head with a shit eating grin.

In all seriousness. Showing them that’s she’s his's and belongs under his wings, which will keep her safe and protected till his death.

“How did you know my boss's office’s on tenth floor?” She squints up at him suspiciously.

“Hmm. Dunno, moppet. Magical powers or summat?” He teases her, putting a hand at the small of her back to nudge her forward making her blush pink and ducks down to whisper in her ear, “You got this toots.” Biting her earlobe playfully to stroke down her anxiety upon sensing her hesitancy to step in the hallway that has cubicles lined up.

He already got this. He ordered his assistant to get the resign letter ready and showing her who’s the boss here’s not much of hurdle for him.

It’s weird. Bloody weird. Y/N wants to turn back and run away because the moment they step inside the whole damn hallway falls eerily pin drop silent and everyone’s peeking up from the short walls of their cubicles and then diverting their eyes immediately in embarrassment and apology seeing Harry behind her.

The ones who’re standing bows their heads lightly in respect for him and scurrying away to give him a way and that’s insanely surprising and weird.

Harry on the other hand was no stranger to those bogey looks. Of curiosity, uneasiness and dread when he passes through the crowd of his employs. Y/N is.

Slowly perhaps. It starts to sink in— jumbled and disoriented when she looks back at Harry. He’s keeping his head held high and shoulders tilted back with poise and conceitedness, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants and because though it makes him look like a proper snob— he is their boss and the owner of this company, he should act like one.

“Mr. Styles.” Y/N’s boss assistant Marina who’s usually very chirpy (and undeserving of all the yelling she gets from her boss) turns pale at Harry’s presence. She’s the only person Y/N's very keen of, now she’s fretting towards them with her head lowered and tries to stammer something but Harry’s walking past her with his lips pursued as he goes inside without knocking.

“Harry...” Y/N tattles behind him, lunging to clutch onto the hem of his suits coat, to scold him to stop babying her and let her handle it herself, too late since she’s already meeting with the sight of her overly stressed and upset boss.

Her knees almost gives in when Harry snaps his fingers for the employees that were inside to give them privacy and takes in the most relaxing breath of oxygen, feeling a gag of bitterness in his mouth from even looking at her.

Y/N gasped. Her boss (which she’s not sure is her boss anymore) gasped. The sweet assistant Marina gasped. When Harry told her in the most composing way– though his blood’s boiling absolutely sheathing through his veins.

“You’re fired.” His demeanour cold and voice monotone not giving a fuck how much she shakes and cries for his forgiveness.

“Mr. Styles. I..I can explain–-" She stammers rushing from the back of her desk and stops obediently when Harry gestures her to not to take another step forward.

“There’s no excuse for abuse. I don’t want your lame explanations, I can’t have an abusive asshole running my company for me ... we might be strict on our employees but we aren’t monsters.” He grits, his eyes flaring piercingly with rage and showing no empathy towards her as she pleads him to forgive her mistake– those bricks of money makes you work baby.

“You hurt someone so dearly to me ‘n think I’ll forgive ye'?” The assistance eye’s blows away at newfound information, Harry Styles love of life’s none other than Y/N. The girl she used to have smoked sandwiches and milkshakes with in their lunch breaks.

“I didn’t know ...” He chuckles ironically at her hypocrisy and that’s the last straw for him before he’s threatening her to call the security and she’s getting out of there cursing him under her breath but Harry grabs her from elbow roughly, conceding his brow at her dauntingly.

"Apologise to her right fuckin' now."

"Sorry, Mrs Styles. I'm very ashamed of what I did." She says nervously and Y/N nods not able to speak from the butterflies that are flapping around her stomach, which sure didn't go unnoticed at Harry's side and he smirks at Y/N.

When they’re left alone. Jovial cackles are bouncing against the walls and he’s pressing his hip to the desk, securing his hands around his triceps as he folds his arms infront of his chest entertaining himself to the cute and fuzzy reactions of his girl at what just happened.

“See. Told ya, nobody could defy my bossiness at work.” He grins at her, jerking his hand towards his chest to usher her closer to him and boops her nose smacking an obnoxiously loud kiss to her mouth when she toddles in his arms.

“The offers still there,” He looks down at her cheekily and she shakes her head, a small smile kicking up her lips at his determination and devotion.

“Couldn’t say no to you, could I? What will you be owning secretly next time?” She nips at him, planting her palms firmly against his midriff feeling the crispiness of his shirt underneath his jacket.

“A bakery shop ....?” He muses in the most pondering voice and she scoffs at him through pattering of giggles, “Suck it up Mr. Styles.”

“Hey! I know my prick’s huge but not tha’ much for me to suck it myself.”

Y/N chokes onto her own spit. Shaking her head at him.

“Your innocent employees knows how vulgar you’re?”

“Uhmm. Infact, She gets very hot hearin’ me like tha'.” He bobs his head grinning at her wickedly and she smacks his shoulder, “Harry!”

“Yeahhh! Tell everyone how good I make you feel babbbyy—....” Y/N clamps her hand around his mouth to muffle his lewd fake moaning.

“You’re so embarrassing.” She grumbles wiping his spit sticking to her palm down her skirt and spins around to head for the door expecting him to follow her.

“You don’t talk to boss like that!” He trails behind her, “Boss my ass!” She quips out a squeal looking around to make sure that nobody saw it when Harry slapped her bum.

“Boss someone’s ‘bout to get a pink ass.”

[collecting-stories]

Pretender - JJ Maybank

Request: So I know that your requests are closed, but I thought that I would ask anyways. Could you do more images with JJ having a panic attack. I cant seem to find any other images other than your Attack of Panic one, which was amazing! I read it over and over. Anyways I dont really mind if you do it or not, but I thought that I would ask. And thank you for writing all of this JJ content!

A/N: Title is from the song Pretender by The Maine!

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Sarah had told John B once that she always thought he was a laid-back surfer type and that, obviously, she’d been very wrong about that assumption. You’d never thought the visual fit John B, not the way it fit JJ. It was like a perfectly tailored mask. JJ was chill, almost incredibly so, just a chill, weed-smoking, nobody from the Cut that spent way too much time out on the waves. Even the shit with his dad seemed to roll off his back.  

“Have you seen JJ?” You called, leaning over the railing at your house, eyes meeting Pope’s in the early night. You could have probably gone the rest of your life never seeing that mask crack, but he was supposed to be at the party that night and you hadn’t been able to find him.  

Pope shrugged, nonchalant as he started to turn back to Kiara before a thought seemed to strike. He looked back at you, “Maybe inside? I know he got here earlier than us.”

You pushed the screen door open, the air inside the house just as stagnant as it had been outside. The air-conditioning still wasn’t working and it didn’t help that there was no breeze, your skin felt sticky and warm as you moved through the small crowd that dared to hang out in your living room. You scanned every face for JJ but couldn’t find the familiar blond anywhere. You thought about asking someone else if they’d seen him but didn’t want to seem desperate so you didn’t, heading down the hallway instead. Maybe he was in your room, smoking a joint.  

In your mind you ticked off the rooms as you checked them, kitchen: no, living room: no, your bedroom: no. You jiggled the handle of the bathroom unexpectedly, surprised to find it locked. You weren’t exactly sure who had been invited to the impromptu party but you still weren’t banking on someone being in your bathroom.  

When you knocked, you recognized the shaky voice on the other end of the door, the source being exactly the person who you were looking for.  

“JJ? JJ, it’s me.” You called through the door, tapping lightly on the wood, “can you unlock the door?”

The door clicked and then opened a crack. You waited for a moment but when it didn’t open wider you assumed that JJ wasn’t going to invite you in the way you’d almost expected him too. So you pushed into the bathroom and then shut the door behind you, locking it again before you turned around to see JJ practically pacing in the small space.  

He was clenching and unclenching his fists, shaking and sweating. Looking at him, you were shocked he’d even been in the right mind enough to open the door for you, he looked like he was in an entirely different galaxy.  

“Jay?” You asked, stepping forward and reaching for him. He swatted your hand away and then looked up to finally meet your eyes. “JJ, are you okay?”

He nodded, breathing rapidly, before shaking his head and leaning back against the sink, “I don’t...shit, I don’t know what’s the matter. I’m...fuck man, I’m like tweaking out or something.”  

“I think you’re having a panic attack. Hey,” you called, grabbing his face in your hands to steady the shaking and get him to look you in the eyes. His eyes were bloodshot and he couldn’t seem to focus on you, staring over your shoulder as you held onto him. “JJ, hey, can you look at me?”

JJ sucked in a deep breath and then held it, his whole face going red as he forgot to breath. Finally he coughed, choking air back into his lungs and grabbing your forearms. You whispered ‘okay’ and ‘it’s alright’ over and over as you eased off of him, looking around the room for a moment before your eyes settled on the tub. You threw a towel down and the kicked your shoes off, stepping into the bathtub and reaching for JJ again.

“Come here,” you urged, waving your hand slightly before he held onto it, following your actions and stepping in. You sat down with your back against the tile wall and pulled JJ down with you, his back against your chest, still heaving breaths as he tried to regulate himself. “It’s gonna be okay, Jay...” you whispered, brushing his hair off his forehead as he leaned his head back on your shoulder and closed his eyes.  

His forehead was slick with sweat and he felt cold to the touch, hair damp as you ran your hand through it soothingly. He began to stop shaking, random jolts still rocking him but for the most part he was calming down. You put your other hand under his black button-up, over his heart, feeling for a slowed pulse.  

“I’m here, we’ll be alright,” you promised, kissing the side of his head as he nodded. He had closed his eyes, trying to imagine himself back in his body, in the moment that was happening. Your hands on him felt like the only thing tethering him to the world and he had the thought that, if you let go, he might float up through the ceiling and out over the marsh.  

He tried to take another deep breath and this time you counted out the motion with him, instructing him when to let the air out of his lungs and he could feel himself coming down. “You should probably eat something JJ.” He could hear you talking but the words felt like nonsense in his brain, he was too out of it to do anything more than feel you there with him in the bathroom, knees pressing against the outsides of his, he charted a path from feet to head, all the points of  access between your bodies.  

It ran over in his head like a list until he was whispering it out loud, “feet, knees, thighs, back, heart, head, hair,” over and over. You didn’t respond and he didn’t even know for sure that you could hear him but he kept going until he felt like he didn’t have to remember how to breath, he could just do it.  

“Jay?” You sounded a little closer now and he tilted his head up at the sound but kept his eyes closed. “Do you need anything?”

“Just this,” he breathed the words out, the S’s dragging as he spoke. He tried it again, tried to sound clearer, “just this.”

“Okay.” You must’ve heard him because you seemed to settle a bit more into the tub, sinking down further so that his head was a little closer to yours.  

He turned his head to the side, nose brushing your cheek and eyes fluttering opened, still red but more focused as you came into view...just you out of the darkness. “Hi.”

“Hey babe.” You greeted, letting your nose brush his when you turned your head to the side. He placed his hand over yours on his heart and you let him interlock your fingers, a clumsy fist settling back on his chest as he gripped you. “It’s okay, I got you.” You reiterated as he closed his eyes again.