#i started writing this last night just as like a little brain exercise but then a demon in my head went: no write it for real and so i did

[angelmichelangelo]

welp. all the sainw angst got me alright. i know i technically already wrote a rip mikey's arm fic a while ago but @love-killed-the-superstar put a worm in my brain that i couldn't shake. still working on it but here's a lil sneak peek :)

[charmandabear]

11. Astarion x Reader 👀

We're not going to worry about how long it'll take me to answer these. We're not going to talk about it. Listen, I'm trying so hard to not make these into whole things, I just want to treat them like writing exercises, but I physically can't not finish smut once it's started.

From @astarionfreak's smut ask game ~ other entries

11. "I touched myself last night thinking about you." "I know."

Tags/Warnings: reader isn't gendered but has a vulva, blood/blood drinking, p in v sex, somewhat rough sex (reader gets a little feral in this one)

You're not subtle about it at all.

Every time he catches you staring, you quickly turn your head. At one point you even just shift your eyes, trying to pretend you're looking at something behind him. But there's no way he isn't at least a little suspicious.

Since the night you let Astarion bite you, the tension between the two of you has been palpable. Something about having him pressed down on top of you, his lips on your neck and his hand cradling your neck in a way that was disproportionately gentle set something on fire inside you. You really thought that you could just get over your little crush if you got it out of your system. Sate the need and you could go back to just being friends... Or whatever you are with him.

But it had the opposite effect. Now, his very presence turns you on. The wind catches his scent and you instinctively press your thighs together. He grins after making some sassy remark to Gale, and the glint of his fangs in the light makes your mouth go dry. You even need to suppress a moan when he gets a particularly impressive kill. You really hope no one heard that one.

So now, sitting around the campfire with the rest of your companions, you're just trying desperately to appear normal. You laugh absentmindedly at whatever joke Karlach just made while in your mind, Astarion's railing you up against a tree. It's only when you realize that Wyll has been trying to ask you a question for the past 90 seconds that you know you're too far gone to be in polite company.

"Sorry, I'm just a little out of it, long day," you make the excuse lamely. "I'm going to turn in a little early, I've got a bit of a headache."

"Do you want something for it?" Shadowheart asks with a frown. "I've got some herbal remedies that might help."

"I'm fine, I think I just need some rest." You force a smile onto your face. "'Night, all." You walk back to your tent stiffly, speeding up to cover the last few meters quickly. Your breath wracks through your body and your blood pounds in your ears. You've never - never - gotten this worked up over another person, never mind a man. Honestly, he's not even really your usual type, you'd normally be much more likely to pursue someone like Shadowheart. But she so clearly has a thing for Karlach, and that's not something you'd want to get in the way of.

But this pale, devastatingly handsome vampire elf has your desire in a chokehold.

You light a lantern inside your tent and take out your journal to sketch. You try to conjure some of the imagery you saw today to keep your brain off Astarion. Scratch and the owlbear cub playing. The terrifying harpies that almost lured one of the tiefling children. Astarion's blade dripping with harpy blood while his bright red eyes sparkle with mischief and the thrill of he kill.

Fucking hells.

You eventually put your journal away and lay down on your bedroll, staring at the ceiling of your tent while the others continue to chat and laugh outside. You listen to their conversation die down, their goodnights, and finally the distant sound of crickets and other nighttime fauna. Your eyes start to grow heavy, or at the very least bored of looking at the support rods in your tent.

You only realize that you've drifted to sleep when you're startled awake by a soft tapping on the canvas flap that separates you from the rest of camp.

"Y-yes?" Your voice is shakier than you'd like, although it's not like a vicious creature would politely knock on your makeshift door. The flap lifts up to reveal the literal last person you'd like to see right now.

"Hello, darling," Astarion grins in that irresistible way that he does. "I wanted to check in on our fearless leader. You've seemed dreadfully jumpy all day."

"Oh! Um." You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. "I'm.. fine. Thank you, Astarion." You nod your head in a gesture of dismissal, but he doesn't move.

"Are you sure? You're positively flushed." His smile suggests he knows more than he's letting on. You chew on your lower lip to distract you from the growing ache between your legs.

"I'm perfectly fine, Astarion, thank you. Good night." You reach to close the tent flap but he holds onto it. Your fingers brush against his and it's like a jolt of lightning passes between your hands.

"I'm not buying it," he hums, dropping his voice. He pushes his way into your tent and you scramble backwards. The last thing you need is for him to touch you - you might not be able to control yourself if he does. "Now tell me, what's had you so hot and bothered all day?"

"N-nothing," you stammer, wishing you could just disappear on the spot. He raises an eyebrow and you backpedal. "Well, fine, I think something Gale cooked isn't sitting quite right with me. I was... embarrassed." The lie rings hollow even to you.

"Come now, love, we both know you're a terrible liar." He crawls towards you on his knees, a predator stalking his prey. Your breath catches in your throat. "Do you have something you need to confess?"

You're trapped. You've run out of room in the tent to back away, and Astarion has all but crawled on top of you. His scent is intoxicating and his eyes gleam in the low light. The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

"I touched myself last night thinking about you."

"I know." The grin that curls across his face is fiendish. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

"You know?" Then you gasp suddenly. "The tadpole..."

Astarion lets out a bark of a laugh, loud enough that you're worried it might wake your other companions. "Darling, I didn't need a tadpole to figure that one out. Like I said, you're a terrible liar." He nudges his knee closer to the apex of your legs and you can feel your arousal making your underclothes wet. "What I want to know is, how did you picture me? My head between your legs? Did I have you on all fours in the forest? Or..." His lips ghost against yours now and your head feels dizzy with lust. "Or perhaps I had you pinned down in this very tent, taking my time as I had my way with you?"

Your instincts take over and you close the minimal distance between you, pulling him down on top of you as you ravage his lips. You claw at his clothing, no longer interested in maintaining decorum. He tears at the laces of your breeches, pulling them down below your hips and exposing your dripping cunt to the open air. A cry rips through your throat as he licks a thick stripe up your slit, and his chuckle rumbles deep in his chest. He pulls up on his knees and grins down at you, open and wanton, as he slips out of his pants.

"So very eager," he hums as he frees his cock, engorged and already dripping. A shudder runs through you as you see it, and you yank on his shirt and pull him down to meet you. You kiss him roughly, catching his lower lip in your teeth as you hook your leg around his waist.

"Shut the fuck up and fuck me, Astarion," you hiss through gritted teeth, and you groan loudly when he easily sinks in up to his base.

"Someone wants the whole of camp to hear," he growls in your ear as he begins to slowly thrust into you.

"Then you better make it quick so we don't wake them," you snarl in response, all pretenses having vanished. You tangle your fingers into his hair and press his face to your neck. You feel his lips stretch into a smile just before he sinks his fangs into you, the icy shard of pain melting into the heat of his mouth warming with your blood.

You jut your hips up into him, desperately chasing your release as he drinks his fill. He fucks into you, hard and messy, and before long you're feeling the pressure building in your core.

"Gods, Astarion, don't stop," you gasp hungrily in his ear, and he increases his pace to a punishing rhythm. You're starting to grow faint from blood loss just as your orgasm comes crashing down on you. Your walls clench and shudder around his length and he tears his mouth away from your neck, his expression wild and bloody. A few more broken ruts and you can feel him spilling inside you, the feeling his pulsing cock prolonging your own climax.

The two of you eventually still, covered in a sheen of sweat and panting heavily. Your ears strain to hear if there has been any disturbance in camp to indicate that your other companions heard anything. Outside your tent remains, thankfully, silent.

"Well then," Astarion exhales quickly as he slides out of you. "Darling, if it's going to be like that, then you just need to invite me next time."

[lottluvs]

Take Chances. (🪵 )

pairing : lottie matthews x fem reader … c / w : descriptions of nausea , descriptions of violence , self - violence , derealization, fluff . ( short-ish little drabble as a writing exercise ! fast pacing , descriptive . )

summary : nothing could’ve prepared you for this , a plane crash with your soccer team , and being in the forest with them was nothing you could’ve readied for . the wilderness drove you to deteriorate mentally faster , however it seemed advice from the past drew you closer to someone you’ve learned for for oh so long .

lottluvs , feel free to translate with credit . . open to criticism 🌱

a/n : i am so sorry, i wrote this at like 12-2am, and didnt proofread it at all, sorry for the weird pacing, but yay first one shot :3 ( update : posted on ao3 as well ! ) my requests are open !!

The cicadas humming echoed more words than you spoke in weeks, their tune seemed to drown out your thoughts, waking up later than everyone else, silently, and with no purpose. Even the thought of getting up to survive was starting to get tiring, you were a teenager, this wasn’t something you wanted to ever have to deal with, none of these girls should’ve had to. 

As you rose from your makeshift pallet on the floor, the blankets draped on you somewhat too perfectly, you noticed that the cabin was clean of the warm bodies that littered it in the night, and even the late risers were by now gone as well. Your mind was still settling into the new day, ears ringing with the fuzz of your pillow. You begin to recall everything, the plane ride, crashing, surviving.. no, it wasn’t surviving at this point. It was scraping together whatever mess you called rations. Even so, that was only for your physical health, if you were to say you were surviving mentally, not even the slightest wind would hear your lie. Unfortunately, recalling everything wanted to make you fall back asleep, and let the delusion your brain would find in the comfort of dreams take over once more, but the thought of repeating the day over and over again gave you to pure spite to not go back to sleep. You wished for just a little longer your brain would forget this mess, this horrible loud mess. “Just five more minutes.” You thought, hearing your mother’s voice ring in disagreement, the voice seemed far away, but it was certainly there.

Standing up, you breathed in dusty air, restless, dirty air. Nausea from starvation hit you like a brick, eating once every few days in little portions really made you appreciate what you had before this horrible accident. Folding your blankets into one nice pile took no more than two minutes, two minutes sharp that you counted. Time was precious, so why not keep the memory of something you may not be able to do ever again in due time? Walking to the door, with a hand rubbing your stomach similarly to how your mother would comfort you by rubbing your back, took even longer. “Do I have to? I mean do I really have to?” Those words bubbled in your mind as you placed a dirty hand on the handle to open the worn door. 

Bright. It was excruciatingly bright. The smell of pine and the breeze filled your nose with a chill. Standing on the porch carrying baggy eyes and messy hair, looking around to see a few teammates working around, some minding their own business, some presenting their personality as if it was just another day living casually. Your eyes flickered before yawning and popping your fingers, walking out into the courtyard of what would soon be your last ringing bell, or that’s how you felt. The first one to stop you was Shauna, Shauna Shipman, one of the Yellowjackets midfielders. 

“Where were you?” Her voice was tired, but the sound of genuine ask was there.

“I slept a little too late I guess, no one woke me up, I assumed someone would.” You responded with your dry lips once stuck together parting with exhaust. 

“That’s okay, I was just worried I guess? Um, do you want to help me store and skin this faun? Like you were supposed to since you were next for this duty? Nat caught it this morning.” Shauna motioned to something behind her, idling her arms after, waiting for a response.

“I don’t see why not.” You spat out, hoping Shauna wouldn’t mistake your exhaustion for a negative tone, walking in the direction of the faun, of which was barely visible through the toned green leaves. 

You heard Shauna follow behind, picking up her pace when you eventually got to the scene of the deceased creature. She started to talk about how to “take care of the animal,” but honestly you couldn’t help but tune her out, you listened to the trees sway, the birds call, and you swore you could hear the roots of the trees shiver under your sore feet. Eventually, tuning Shauna back in would leave you in the middle of her conversation about how to store the game. You nodded in approval, feeling bad that you weren’t listening, because for some reason, you felt like Shauna needed this. This mentoring, maybe it let her feel like she had a bigger role. You walked over to full view of the small deer, Shauna handed you something wrapped in cloth, and got to work on the start of the process. 

Unwrapping the cloth would reveal a black handled knife, a shiny and what seemed to be recently cleaned blade. You locked positions, starting to stare at the weapon you wielded, looking at the skin of your fingers, moving to the palm that crowned the cloth and knife. You continued to stare as you began to get dizzy, your eyes felt like they were carrying weights, and the rough ground seemed to blur. Your own brain felt like it was betraying you.. “do it,” a voice rings out. “You cant go on right?” You felt your facial features drop, as not even your own hand was recognizable anymore, the skin that you bore wasn’t yours, right? It just didn’t seem right. What felt like a numb space of dull void that was your left hand picked up the blade firm, turning it blade down. Letting the cloth fall from your hand, you felt your lightheaded thinking churn, your eyes dilating, your stomach drop, as the nausea from waking up not even an hour ago began to stick to the front of your stomach, and your planted feet all combine into a feeling of external dread, as the blade kissed your skin, a hurtful form of abuse, the gorgeous deep red stained every line on your palm, making rivers of blood through your skin, dripping onto the ground below, it was a smooth and clean cut, at this point, you couldn’t even feel your hands, you didnt cut too deep into your palm before you felt something on your stomach, it wasn’t that feeling of your stomach deciding to throw up or not, it was warm. 

As you began to lock back into reality due to a the rush of adrenaline, Shauna snapped around to stand directly in front of you grabbing the knife blade first, somewhat cutting into one of her fingers, not as bad as you sculpted your hand.

“What the f— oh my god. Hey— what is going on with you?!?” The voice of concern that was so familiar hit you like bricks even though it was a whisper, it began to pull you back to fond memories. “This is—.” Shauna threw the blade onto the table and held your palm upside down, taking the absent cloth from the ground and covering it, applying pressure. You heard her take a breath before she sighed, it wasn’t a sigh of annoyance, rather a sigh of unease. “Hey, please talk to me..” 

For once that day, your brain formed a genuine thought that you were present for, what was going on with you? You looked at her soft features. The features that brought you comfort even before the crash. Your mouth opened, but the only thing that came out was the noise of silence and dead words, you’d left yourself dumbfounded. You felt bad Shauna had to waste any stamina she had left worrying for you. But at this point, you couldn’t even tell why you did that to yourself, was it self hatred? Hunger? Or was it the fact it was so hard to recognize you were a real person anymore. You’ve felt like prey this entire time. Never the one that’s one step above.

Shauna and you were good friends, in fact, she was the one to convince you to try out for the Yellowjackets in the first place. Turns out, you were a lot faster than you thought, placing you right with Jackie as a striker, a goalie-scorer, a game changer. During practice, you’d always be with Shauna, chatting up a storm and pissing off your already over stressed coach. Compared to current day, back then you were any normal teenager, bright, excited for the future, sociable, and one of the best features about you? You were approachable, and your team felt like they could go to you for anything. 

You recalled those thoughts quietly, stuttering out a few incoherent words before Shauna grabbed your other hand and squeezed it, calling you back to your unfortunate reality. “Shauna I don’t.. know. For once I really don’t know what’s wrong with me. Normally I can voice myself..  normally I’m in control, but now it’s like someone hit a reset on my brain. Nothing works anymore, im starting back on square one.” You squeezed her hand back, taking a breath in, wincing as the pain in your hand finally started to settle, waiting for her response, and looking at the ground now. 

“…That’s the most honest anyone here has been for a while I feel.” She let out a sharp chuckle before sniffling the strain of her allergies back into her nose and sighing. “This isn’t like you though, and.. by this I mean.. I feel like at this point everyone is different in some way, or in denial in SOME way.” Shauna rubbed your crimson stained hand gently with that oh so stupid concerned-confused pout on her face. “It’s weird to see how our situation changed us. You know?” 

You stared at Shauna, she was right, and you hated it. Subsequently, your hand began to throb with pain, almost as if your body, separated from your mind, was saying “gotcha.” You pulled away from Shauna and held the cloth to your hand, not even giving true word to her statement, just a slight nod, and you began to walk off toward the cabin again, holding your hand, not even for your own safety, not even for your own survival, but for a comfort, a longing, something you missed oh so dearly. Not even trying to hide your hand, you step towards the cabin, eyes not up, rather on the flaky pine needle and leaf covered ground beneath you, shakily breathing. However, as you approached, something stopped you, a whisper, something, someone? 

Your vision is blurry, dizzy even, you cant tell if it’s from the blood loss, or your brain playing tricks on you. You look around, focusing in on movement to your right. The only coherent thing you could see is that it was some form of being, you dont know what it was, but it needed it you there. Needed it near you. Was it you? Or was it this beast? It didnt matter, the lustful pull of this incoherent whisper was enough to draw you in. Walking, no, with a strong pace of a dizzy limp, you rushed toward whoever this was. It just felt right.

The forest no longer felt like a maze, rather, a clear magnetic force. You stopped in your tracks when you felt like it was right, when it felt like you were right. Locking into the vision in front of you, you held your hand more secure and looked around, where was this silhouette you saw? Just then, you heard what pulled you here, what was really behind your sudden mission. 

“Did the wilderness… bring you here too?”

That voice, that cracky, but strong, smooth voice..

…

“What do you mean I have a crush on her??” You shouted at Shauna, giggling as she shushed you for being so careless. Your cleats hit the ground echoing along either the remains of your voice, ringing throughout every locker room locker.

“Okay well, it’s not like, friend level, like that’s totally not normal.” Shauna snorted at you, teasing you. Rolling her eyes before turning to you fully. “Like— I get the wanting to be friends with her, like a squish or something right? But the way you talk about her, oh my god, you’ve sooo got a crush.” Her hands motioned along with her words.

“I mean. Shauna you’re the only one who knows I’m.. not exactly straight.” 

“So? No one else knows, but I feel like.. I don’t know. Like I don’t think anyone would make fun of you for it, maybe like.. Nat as a joke, Mari because she’s… Mari… but that’s it, I never did when you told me.” Shauna beamed. “But maybe that’s just because we are friends.” 

“How the fuck do I tell Lottie Matthews that though, she’s going to catch on too fast, like okay she doesn’t know that she makes it impossible to focus when she clears the ball to me up the sideline, because I’m too busy staring at well… her, and then the stupid dream we got like stranded on an island together.. and ALL the other stuff.” You finished your statement with a giggle. “I just don’t know. Maybe one day I’ll own up to it, but not anytime soon.” 

Shauna sighed at you. “Okay, but you should always take chances..” She reciprocated the laugh with a giggle, taking your hands in hers and rocking in laughter, just as normal teenage girls would do.

…

“Lottie..” You mumbled, as she got closer to you, allowing you to see every scar and marking her face had to offer, and god did her face offer jewels upon jewels.

“…Whats this?” Lottie gently lifted your hand, as you winced in response, seeming as you finally snapped back into reality. Her hands pulled back a bit before peeling the dyed cloth off of your scar. 

“Ah, that’s— I just got hurt while helping Shauna, it’s not a big deal, honest.” Holy shit, and now you’re LYING to her, as she decides to offer touch comfort to your shameful hand injury.

“There is no need to lie, this is definitely self inflicted, too perfect of a cut.” Lottie held your hand up a little higher, so she could see it better, the height difference between you two was palpable, and it made you swallow as she touched you. Soft, careful, thoughtful. Everything. Why did she— no why do you have to be so nervous..? Her dark lightly curled hair pushed back, her eyes gazing over you before letting go and stepping back, those sharp eyes looking you up and down.

“Something brought us two here, so, let’s talk.” Lottie whispered, signaling for you to find a place on the ground to sit, allowing you to rest first, including picking the spot, and yet she still held your bloody palm, almost guarding it from the ground. Your stomach flipped, but this time, from butterflies, if only you didn’t mess up your hand, maybe, just maybe, she would hold it. Maybe you could be bold and wrap your fingers around hers, but no, right now, your mind has control over you like a parasite. You aren’t thinking coherently. Lottie plopped down next to you, your hand still in her care

“Mmkay,” you mumble as you sit, enjoying the fact you get to sit. “I just.” You take the order of starting the conversation. “I feel like this.. this has made me worse, I don’t know, I don’t… I don’t want it to be this way, ever since I woke up its like I’ve been awake because I have to be. Not because I want to, I didn’t even feel me do this. I didn’t FEEL it Lot.” You hiss, energy kicking back in, pointing to your cut. “I didn’t WANT to do this, it’s like something was.. puppeteering me. Something wants me to harm myself. I hate this dizzy feeling. I hate, hate, hate it. God why is this happening to me? To us? I HATE this constant feeling of wanting to throw up, sometimes not even at something in front of me, but of the thought I might.. I MIGHT actually die out here. I wont get to tell the people the things I want to tell them, live with them, live my life, pursue MY life, and watch those close to me pursue theirs. I wont watch my children grow old, I wont see my mother, my father, my family.. I wont get to see them live, and I just have to be SATISFIED with that Charlotte.” You took a deep breath, and as you began to rumble more, a swift movement caught you off guard. 

Lottie grabbed you by the shoulders and drew you into a hug, not a side hug like they’d do as a “good game,” line at the end of a soccer game, a full, wrapped hug, the pressure was there, everything, every element of the hug. You felt your eyes widen as all you could do was cry. Not many tears filled your eyes, but the stinging and punishment was there. You turned into her chest, your hand sunk into her wool jacket, staining it with your awful impure red. You bled into her body in more ways than one, tears and blood sunk into her, as she was silent. You didn’t know how badly you needed the warmth and radiance of someone else. You needed the feeling of support, of love, if you could even call it that. As quick as she pulled you in, she let you go, but this time, she laid you in her lap, head on her thighs. Lottie placed a hand on your head. Shushing you kindly, mumbling affirmations of reassurance to calm you down, but at this point, you were too worked up to even do anything. You hurt. So bad. But there was another part of you that made you realize, you were laying in Lottie Matthews lap. The one you crushed on. The one that made you feel butterflies for the first time at practice, the one that made you miss the chance to score. The one that made you feel unearthly. 

“You know, I’m sure most of us feel that way. So many factors the forest has put us up against. We have lost so many, and yet, we have gained so much too.” She cooed, brushing her fingernails through your hair, spacing out as she did, looking at your face, and you could feel her gaze, but there was no comment needed. “If anything, we have learned to take chances. Any we get, that’s what the wilderness wants us to do.” Her voice rose a bit, almost as if she was inspired.

Take chances.

Take chances.

Take chances?

You looked ahead into the bushes, the brush, and the distance ahead, you thought about way laid beyond. But Lotties words rung in your head as if it was a catchy song like the ones she used to play on tapes in the locker room. “Take chances..” you mumbled. Once again, those cicadas spoke up, their loud wails yelling in your ears. The wind whispering, adding comments to their vocals. As you sat up, and looked directly at Lottie, she didn’t move, didn’t say anything, simply, she smiled. That small smile, the one where her eyes squish and speak words, like the cicadas, without understanding their non-spoken words, you understood thousands. You thought about Shauna, and all of her advice, you thought about those practices you spent looking at Lottie, and all the time you spent thinking about her, doubling it, and storing it in the back of your mind thinking it was shameful.

“Lottie.” You whispered, sighing, tearing up in the slightest.

“Yes?” She whispered back.

“…Lottie I——“ You choked on your own words, hesitating. You moved your bloody palm up to her face, sitting fully on your knees now. Shameful. Shameful you thought. Words attempting to run out of your mouth like a river, and stopping like it was blocked by a dam, and yet every dam must break eventually. Every factor was against you right now, your own body even played tricks on you. Every organ, every nerve. Lotties facial expression didn’t change, she didn’t move either, the only thing that did move, were her deeply toned eyes, directly into yours. Blinking off-beat with your own. Un-synced. Even so, there was something so special about that. However, you pulled your hand away, your flight mode got the better of you, why was it so hard? It’s just you two, and after a-

“Don’t…”

Silence. Both of you silenced. Your thoughts interrupted by her reaction. She slowly placed your hand back onto her cheek, drawing a slight smile on her face. Your own face confused before Lottie drew in closer. 

“Ive known since day one.” Lottie smiled, drawing her warm body closer to yours. “Ive seen the way you’ve looked at me, the way you get distracted, all of it.” Lottie smiled, pressing your hand into her face. You could feel every muscle in her face move, all for you. She’s gorgeous. Absolutely ethereal. 

“But why now..?” You speak as if you weren’t hiding this from her for years, you look at her mouth, dumbfounded by your own idiotic question.

“I have been waiting for you.” Her eyes shut as you both close the gap.

Nothing, silence, it’s just you and Lottie. Connected, together. Her lips are soft, fairly chapped, but you can still feel the layer underneath. You feel her hand move to your hip, pulling you even closer. Feeling every fiber holding this girl together shiver. Even you yourself are still in shock, but god are you enjoying this. It’s like she was able to finally silence your brain, for once you feel.. “normal,” more than normal even, you’re with Lottie Matthews. One of the Yellowjackets defenders, sitting here with you, and she’s being intimate. 

You pull away for air, your lips leave, but there is still longing for more, and she displays that by pulling you even closer, moving her hand off of your bloodied one, and into your hair, softly kissing, minutes pass, as you share her hands exploring you, as your uncut one holds her by the hip. Eventually, you both tire yourself out, separating lips with a strand of saliva, Lottie smiling as it drips, clearing off of her now unchapped lips. 

“So, how do you feel now?” Lottie says breathy.

You lean into her chest and close your eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Better than ever.” You chuckled looking at your palm with a few wet spots, most of it dried by now, looking up to her neck, planting a kiss under her chin, allowing her to breathe a giggle.

“Good, I knew the wilderness brought us here for a reason, my love.”

🌱.—

[crowandmousewritingco]

Safe and Sound

Pairing: Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x gn!reader

Words: 1.9k

Rating G: Just some good ol' Southern fluff just like Mama used to make.

Summary: After forgetting to take your medication the previous night, you have an episode. (Prompt #25 Chronic Condition)

Author: Mod Mouse

Notes: I found some writing prompts for Disability Pride Month. This story is based in a lot of my own experience with POTS. If you want more information on POTS check out. I'll add the prompts at the end of the fic if anyone else wants to write something with these ideas. (edit: the original prompt list maker was @thepromptfoundry )

https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diseases/16560-postural-orthostatic-tachycardia-syndrome-pots

Life on Jack Daniel’s ranch was heavenly. You loved Jack and you visited the ranch pretty much any chance you could get. Being around the horses and cattle all day was your dream come true. All the cute calves kept you busy with the constant play times and feedings. But you couldn’t be more happy. The work was usually never too much for you if you were on your medicine. Sometimes your chest ached with the familiar chest pains other times it was the general ache that came with the syndrome. 

You didn’t tell Jack about your condition since it wasn’t something that you wanted him to worry about. Jack had plenty on his plate from competing in rodeos and running the whole ranch. Something like a fast heartbeat and dizziness was something you’ve adapted to and wasn’t something to ring an alarm for. But you’ve never had an episode since being with him until today. 

All you were doing was helping Jack in the barn. The usual horse hand was out today so you volunteered to feed and ready the horses for the day. Usually you could handle this sort of exercise, but you had forgotten one important detail. Your brain fog was terrible last night so it slipped your mind to take your medicine. By the time you had gotten half way through the stalls, you felt the tell tale signs that an episode was coming. Your heartbeat was too fast and the chest pains squeezed behind your sternum. You cursed yourself and braced yourself on the barn wall. The only place that would be remotely okay for an episode was the hay pile at the end of the aisle. You squeeze your eyes hoping that would keep the world from swaying, but the chill in your appendages was telling you that it was starting.

“Shit.” You curse as you stumble further down the aisle, willing your feet forward knowing safety was closer with each step. You tried to keep the panic from overwhelming you. The last thing you needed was you hyperventilating which would only cause the episode to accelerate. 

After what seemed like an eternity, the familiar crunch of hay wafted into your ears. You  sighed and slowly knelt on the floor. Carefully you laid down on your back letting gravity safely take you. You stay lying still for a few minutes longer before slowly lifting your legs onto a nearby bale. A sigh escaped your lips. You were finally safe. The cold in your limbs slowly inched up your arms and legs, causing you to sigh. Now it was just a matter of waiting until this passed. Your eyes close and you let your episode roll over you. 

~~~~~~~~

Jack wandered through the stable checking in on his horses. He had a rodeo coming up and he needed the extra practice. Already a big winner in the local rodeo competitions, Jack wanted to keep that winning streak going. The horses poked their heads out when they heard the familiar sound of Jack’s boots against the concrete. He smiled and gave them all a pet on their muzzle. 

He stopped in front of a particular chestnut mare giving her a little bit more attention. “Hey there, pretty lady,” He cooed at the creature. The horse neighed in response and nuzzled up against his hand looking for a snack. 

Jack chuckled, “You just had your breakfast. I ain’t gonna give you a treat just yet. Though there might be an apple with your name on it after practice. I just know yer gonna help me get first place next week.” The mare huffed and Jack laughed. Though when he looked into the stall he saw that the feed bucket had no sign of feed in it. 

Jack frowned. You should have already fed the horses by now. “That’s strange,” He commented and looked back up at the mare. “No wonder you were hungry. Here I’ll do some good ol’ fashioned sleuthing for your missing breakfast.” He promised the horse and went in search of you. 

Down the aisle he walked searching for a sign of you. You usually weren’t one to shirk your duties so it was odd that your chores were half done. Though when he rounded the corner, he saw the abandoned wheelbarrow which only added to his confusion. “Where did ya go?” Jack asked himself. He scanned up and down the aisle for a sign when his eyes caught a familiar pair of boots. 

Jack frowned and approached the hay pile. There you were legs in the air and eyes closed. “Now hun this ain’t the time for a nap,” he reprimanded playfully before squatting down to take your hand. His eyes widened when he felt your chilled hand. Panic rose in his throat as he quickly checked for a pulse against your throat. Your heart was beating way too fast for his liking.

“Sugar?” he said anxiously as he gently shook your shoulders. You whimper softly and open your eyes. Jack’s signature stetson came into view. 

“J-Jack,” you said weakly. Your head was so cloudy that you were struggling to come up with words. 

“What happened?” He asked gently cupping your cheek caressing the skin with his thumb. Even your cheeks were cold which worried him deeper. 

“E-Episode,” you answered slowly nuzzling into his palm. 

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Episode? What are ya talking about, sugar? We should get you to a hospital.” 

“N-no it’ll pass. Just need to wait,” You reassured him. 

He scanned your body looking for any other signs that you might be in danger. You weakly lifted your hand with all the strength you could muster, and placed it on his arm. “Trust me.”

He paused for another moment and then nodded. “Okay no hospital but I’m takin’ ya home.” Jack gently slid his arm under your thighs and one under your torso. Slowly he lifted you into his arms and cradled you against him. Your head lulled against his chest. 

The ranch house Jack lived in luckily wasn’t too far away from the barn, but Jack was worried the entire time. You had never had anything like this before, but you were oddly calm about what was happening. That thought didn’t make him feel any more relaxed. 

Jack took the steps up his porch and carefully opened the door with his hip. The chill of the air conditioning made you shiver slightly and you pressed your cheek further into Jack’s chest seeking more warmth. 

“Shhh darling I’ll get ya warmed up here soon,” He reassured you as he took you over to the couch. Gently he set you down on the cushions making sure to place a pillow under your head. 

“L-Legs need to be up,” You whispered. Jack furrowed his brow not sure what he meant, but he remembered how he found you and quickly reassembled your legs like how he found you. 

“I’m gonna grab some blankets and I’ll be right back okay?” He said leaning down to kiss your head. 

“I’ll be here,” you joked. 

Jack gave you a small smile before disappearing down the hall. He quickly gathered all your favorite blankets he could find. With an arm full of soft materials he returned to your side. 

You smile at the sight of your boyfriend, “Got enough blankets to keep an army warm.” 

“Well I ain’t takin’ any chances with you darlin’,” He said softly and set the blankets down on the ottoman. One by one he arranged the blankets into a comfortable healing nest. 

You sighed already feeling loads better. The brain fog was quite prevalent, but you were able to talk in full sentences. 

Once you were settled, he pulled the now empty ottoman up to the couch and sat down. “Now I wanna know what just happened.” He said softly with no sign of malice in his voice. 

“Really Jack it isn’t that big of a deal. I promise,” You tried to reassure him but Jack wasn’t buying it. 

“Pardon my French sweetheart, but both you and I know that’s horse shit,” He tilted his head. 

You looked over at him and your heart clenched at the sight. There was so much worry etched on Jack’s handsome face. You were quiet for a minute and sighed. “You won’t be mad?” 

“No hun I won’t be mad. Please I want to help you,” He reassured you, placing your still chilled hand on his cheek. 

You paused and closed your eyes. “Okay I-I have this chronic syndrome…POTS.” You looked back at Jack and he encouraged you softly to continue. “I’ve had it since I was a teenager. It was a lot worse back then. Episodes like this were a weekly occurrence, but I was lucky. I found a medicine that helps me a lot so now episodes aren’t as frequent, but I forgot my medicine last night. So now we’re here.” 

“Thank you for telling me,” Jack softly said, kissing your palm. “But why did you hide this from me?” 

You sighed, “I really didn’t think it would matter. It doesn’t really affect my day to day life and I didn’t want to add another thing to your already big plate.” 

Jack’s face softened. “Darling you know that ain’t true.” 

“I know darling,” You paused, staring off a little bit. 

Jack paused. “That wasn’t the only reason,” he said bluntly.

“N-No um,” You teared up and Jack quickly wiped them away with his thumb. “I was bullied because of it.” Anger raged behind Jack’s eyes and you quickly took his hand in his. “It was in high school. There was another girl in the grade above me with the same condition,” You chuckle darkly, “and I guess that's reason enough for the bullying. Just because I didn’t have it as bad as her.” 

“Well that's bullshit,” Jack said, kissing your hand. “You still have this condition and nothing is changing it.” He paused at the realization. “That’s why you were scared to tell me.” He added softly. 

You teared up more and turned away from him. “Hey none of that,” he gently chided, guiding your face back to him with his fingers. A tear slowly flowed down your cheek and he leaned over to kiss it away. 

“I’m sorry,” You whispered nuzzling into his shoulder seeking comfort from him. 

“None of that darlin'. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about.” He gently cups your face in his hands. “You are my partner. You are my biggest priority.” 

A soft sob escaped your lips. Never had you felt so loved by someone then at this moment. Jack smiled softly and kissed your forehead. 

“Now tell me how to best take care of ya,” He said, kissing your cheek. 

“I should probably drink some water and eat something with salt,” You stated. 

“Then that’s what you shall receive,” He smiled and stood up from the ottoman. You snuggled into your blankets as you waited for him to return. 

When he came back with the requested items, he set them on the small table beside the couch. Carefully he lifted your head and sat down, setting your head in his lap. “What movie would help you heal faster?” 

You chuckled and mentioned a movie you had wanted to see for a while. Jack smiled, “Just what the doctor ordered.” And there you stayed letting Jack pamper you. With a nurse like Jack, episodes would feel a whole lot better.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

i think i found my fav arcana blog, i rlly love ur hcs and writings!!! (and i don't even usually read that much,,)

i wanna know how the m6 would react to mc, who does journaling but never had anyone read their journal, offering the m6 if they want to read their private journal

The Arcana HCs: M6 reading MC's journal

~ I kept a journal for several years until my siblings were old enough to decipher my handwriting and use it as blackmail lol. Thanks for the prompt anon, enjoy! - brainrot ~

Julian

Noticed you writing in it every day and has been dying of curiosity to know what you're writing about but respects your privacy too much to even bring it up

There have been one or two times when you left it on a table (not open) and he spent a good five minutes fixated on it from across the room, mind going crazy

You finally walk in on him one afternoon, draped across one side of the couch and twisting his gloves while staring holes into the notebook on the opposite armrest

So you sit down next to him and let him read it with you

Double checking multiple times that it's okay for him to be reading this - "are you sure that you're sure?"

Reading about himself from your perspective and how he makes your life better makes him so happy

He also notices how you've kept his love notes and flowers pressed between the pages and the sheer romance of it will make his brain melt

Blushing, stuttering mess

Now whenever he writes you something or picks a flower for you he's thinking about the best way to make it relevant years later, since he knows you'll save them

Asra

Journaling started for you as a daily exercise when you were relearning to write

It was Asra's way of giving you a piece of your life that you had total control of, and of encouraging you to chronicle your days to cope with your memory loss

Over time it also became a place to write down all the things you wanted to say to them while they were gone

So late one night, when you're stargazing together and you find you're on the second to last page of the notebook he gave you so long ago, you reread it with him

It's one of the most precious moments you'll ever share with them. No magic or adventure involved, just the sweetness of revisiting your history together

It also gives you the chance to let him read all the things you felt you couldn't tell him, which brings so much resolution

By the time you're finished reading and talking and snuggling the birds are starting to chirp and the sky is getting lighter

For them, reading about all the ways you noticed and thought about and loved them when there was so much distance between you two makes their heart so full it aches

Nadia

At first she assumed it was something like a planner, where you would write down leads and information and connections

But then she saw the different notebooks you kept for studying, and the system you had to keep track of your scheduled events

She was a little embarrassed at how long it took for her to realize that it was a journal

Once she knew, she was intrigued. She wasn't going to pressure you to show her at all, but she's certainly curious

One day you're flipping back through your entries and you begin to giggle. It's the last thing before she caves and asks

"MC, my darling, what's making you laugh?"

You're immediately scooting over to make space for her next to you and pointing to the right spot on the page

It's a small anecdote you had recorded of Natiqa pranking Nahara and Nazali when Nadia wasn't around

Once you two start reading together she doesn't stop. With your permission, you spend the next two hours reminiscing

You write about her like she's the most important, wise, and confident person in the world, and it fills her with humble gratitude

Muriel

Noticed on the trip south. Wasn't curious. Didn't ask.

Now its been months, you two live like an old married couple in the woods, and he has no idea how to bring it up this late in the getting-to-know-you game

Practices the possible words to ask you in the early mornings while he's feeding the chickens and you're still asleep

The chickens don't have much feedback

You, on the other hand, have mistaken his stoicism for disinterest, so you haven't taken any initiative to let him know that you're open to talking about it

Inanna gets fed up one day and grabs your journal in her mouth, leading you on a chase through the woods, right to where Muriel is fishing

Casually drops it as soon as he tells her to, right into his lap, and heads away for a nap

You sit down next to him and check for torn pages. As soon as you feel his interested gaze, you're offering to read it to him while he waits for the fish to bite

He's not ready for how often he features in your stories, but hearing the way you describe him as safe and gentle and precious makes him feel so fuzzy inside

Portia

The first time she sees you writing she's already asking what it's for

As soon as you tell her it's a journal, she's asking you to let her read it. If it's written by someone as mysterious and exciting as you, it has to be good!

At this point you've known her for all of two days, so you say no

Disappointed but understanding. She doesn't pester you about it, but she makes sure to let you know that she's very interested if you ever feel like sharing

You take your time, but one evening after dinner while you're snuggled up by the fire you'll pull it out and start reading to her

The best audience you've ever had. She is honed in, hanging onto every word while she covers a very happy Pepi in scritches

As someone who fell in love with novels because they whisked her away into adventures she didn't feel important enough for otherwise, hearing you recount your shared story like this tugs on all of her heartstrings

She'll laugh and cry and gasp at all the right moments. From now on, she treats your journal like a sacred thing. After all, it's the most important story in the world

Lucio

He was already sneaking peeks over your shoulder when he was stuck to you as a not-ghost. Man has 0 concept of privacy

You knew he was looking because he was commenting on your handwriting and gossiping about any tidbits he thought were juicy

Considering how you barely knew him at that point, you didn't write in front of him again for a very, very long time

It actually created a lovely habit - at some point during the day, you'll take half an hour to yourself and journal

It's been months now and you've forgotten why you had the habit in the first place, so when it's raining one evening you just stay in the inn and write next to the fire

The difference in Lucio's approach speaks volumes. He asks what you're doing, and when you tell him, he asks if he can hear some of it

He makes no move to get up from where he's polishing his sword (it got wet)

He listens while you read, interjecting with a comment or two, perfectly content

He's a bit sheepish about what you had to write about him in the beginning, but hearing how much he's changed fills him with healthy pride. Oh, he adores you

[kiiwiigii]

Night-Time Reading

Alec x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are having a rough day managing your POTS/CFS. All you want to do is relax and Alec is there to help.

Warnings:

Fluff! Nothing but tooth rotting fluff.

Word Count: 400+

Requested?: Yes!

So I'm going through a really rough time, I'm disabled (pots and CFS) and my cfs is acting up badly cause school started and I've been so busy I haven't had a break period, constantly walking and running and being busy. now I have a three day weekend so my body is letting myself feel the consequences of pushing myself too far, so I was wondering if I could suggest some comfort? Alec with a mate that either has cfs or just has some symptoms and just him keeping them as comfortable as possible while they're in pain Common symptoms (including the ones I'm going through) - joint pain (I can barely go up stairs and walk -extreme temp fluctuations (really hot to really cold quickly) -brain fog (brain is foggy. I'm too weak to open a bottle of coke so I left it open and while talking I tipped it over and forgot it was open) -migraines/headaches -sore throat -trembling -really tired but can't fall asleep and/or sleeps for a really long time Thank you for listening 🫶🏼 -🦊

A/N: Hey nonny! I am so, so sorry it has taken me this long to write this. Honestly, I was (and still am I suppose) intimidated to write this, simply because these illnesses are not something I am not even remotely familiar with. But I also want to thank you because it's a good writing exercise for me. I'm also sorry that you're having such a rough time. I can't even imagine. So here's a fic, just for you, darling. I hope you're feeling better.

Another A/N: So the wonderful and amazing @alecvolturi did an amazing edit of Alec reading the first bit of The Hobbit. Please give it a listen as you read. It's PERFECT.

Miserable.

I was fucking miserable.

It began just by sitting up. I could feel the migraine building, and I was already in the throws of a hot flash. It didn't help that the pain in my joints was flaring up again.

It was 3 a.m. and I was already this close to crying. I couldn't remember the last time that I had a proper nights sleep. I just wanted one day, one day where I didn't have to be in pain or worry that any movement I made would set off a whole other series of symptoms, all of which almost all of them were painful.

"Darling?" Alec was next to me, his cold hands running over my heated skin, trailing goosebumps behind in his wake.

His hands were a sweet, cool balm on my flushed skin. It gave me a little relief. I leaned into him, enjoying the cold. His lips pressed to my forehead.

"Scale of 1 to 10?"

"7 to 8." I mumbled.

One would think with how long that I've lived with this disease that I would have a high pain tolerance. That couldn't be further from the truth. I could already feel a few tears slipping from beneath my lashes. I just wanted something to make the pain go away.

I whined as Alec disappeared, only to reappear with my meds and a bottle of water a moment later.

"Here, drink." He handed me the pills and water, and I took them gratefully. He pulled the comforter from the floor where I had kicked it off, bundling it back up on the bed for us to lay down on. He then grabbed my phone, pulling up my favorite playlist, the one he made for me to help me calm down when I felt like shit. The music started flowing through the speaker near my bed at a low volume.

"What book, darling?" His eyes were already scanning my bookshelves.

"Uhm…" I blinked back at him slowly, trying to process what he said.

"How about The Hobbit?"

"Perfect." I rasped with a small smile.

He was next to me again in a flash, his back against the headboard as he pulled me gently to him, a pillow already ready in his lap.

"In the hole in the ground, there lived a Hobbit." His voice lilted over me, and I felt myself begin to relax as his hands gently ran through my hair and along my neck.

The fine mist that signaled the use of his gift began to unfurl from his fingers and I felt myself begin to numb. The first time he had done this it had been disconcerting, but now I welcomed it with relish. A small reprieve from the pain. I smiled to myself, letting my eyes slip closed as I listened.

Then finally, sleep came for me.

{Masterlist} // {Request Guidelines}

Taglist: @alecvolturi @lack-lust-3r @rosedpetal

Wanna be notified when I post a new fic? Ask to join my taglist!

[caged-kaashi]

Hey, Akaashi

Im a 1st year (high school). after winter break Im gonna be a 2nd year and.... I just don't know what to do.

There is literally nothing im good at. i didnt know that was possible. I'm not good at studying, i can't draw, i can't play an instrument, i can't make friends, i can't play any sports, i can't play games, i can't write essays, i'm not funny, i'm not patient.... i'm lazy. i don't know, literally, there's nothing i'm good at. Not even trivial things. Not even like checkers, or dodgeball, or smiling, or talking quickly, or tricking people.

I didn't know it was possible, but here I am. I'm not even healthy; my own fault, with some help from my genes. I cant stay up the night, i sleep like 8 hours and am still sleepy, i dont like eating so im... not underweight, but close. i have no muscle. but i have no fat so i can't skip meals and be fine, if i skip two meals ill become so weak i can barely stand, it sucks.

I tried to make a list once: all the things im good at. squeezed my brain for any niche thing. heres what i came up with:

I'm decent at english. I don't smoke or do drugs or gamble. I'm not a big money spender. sometimes i do the dishes.

The bare minimum, less even.

anyways, i have 2 months of winter break. in that time i wanna learn to cook, at least. and earn money. How can I earn money? and exercise just enough to go back into the 'normal muscle range'. I don't think i can learn to study well enough to get into college in that time. So something, anything. Anything to stay alive later without being a burden on my parents.

Sorry for ranting.

Hello anon, before I begin, thank you for trusting me enough to hear you out. I'm here for you anytime you may need to rant so don't ever hesitate. And I'm sorry that you're feeling awful with how you are currently.

-pulls you down gently to sit beside him-

However, I seem to have noticed your special quality through your words and that is introspection. You have taken time to be true to yourself and search who you are. This may sound albeit spiritual but finding yourself and accepting the form you are at is one of the most basic and important step to improve yourself.

It also appears as though you've already started working on the next step too. You've made a list of things that you want to achieve by a certain time frame and that's great. I'll be cheering you on, celebrate every little achievement just like how parents would with a mere single step of a young baby.

The thing about being good at something is ultimately acquired skills. You may be good at something by birth and that merely gives you a head start, you still need to refine and polish it, in order for the skill to shine. By bringing this point forward, what I mean to say is, you're still young, you can find a skill that interests you and work on it, that's how you acquire skill sets for yourself.

You also posed a question about how to earn money. The easiest trick is to find a way to make yourself more sell worthy in the market and for that you have to work on acquiring the very skills that both interests you as well as is sought out in the market. If you say you're good in English then maybe look into newsletters, improving your writing and start with something small. I do have to also mention that the bare minimum you speak of is still much better than being the worst and doing bad things intentionally.

Lastly, I do wanna add that whatever you do, do it for yourself. I know it sounds selfish but it is ultimately you who has to live with yourself so treat yourself better. Become someone you would trust your child-self to be impressed by because that is the only person who you need to keep happy and satisfied.

You can do whatever you can put your mind to, take a breath, find ways in which you'll be happy and healthy, prioritize yourself more and remember, keep moving- in every sense of the word. Because even the tiniest step is an improvement from where you last were.

[ladymostdeject]

Seeking Radiodust Beta Reader

I'm writing a post season 1 Five Times Angel Dust called Alastor Daddy fic and I'm looking for a beta!

I'm three chapters in, and it's about 14k long now, and each chapter has been exponentially longer than the last, so I really don't know how long it's going to be.

I'm looking for help with typos and sentence structure, and maybe someone to bounce some later ideas off of, also would love help deciding how to tag it.

It's surprisingly light on the daddy-kink considering the name. Like... very light.

Actually if someone who's into Daddy-kink wants to be my Daddy-Kink advisor that would be amazing.

Contains: Present-tense, Angel is super horny for Kaiju!Alastor, asexual alastor, bdsm in later chapters, though I don't know how explicit I'm going to get (knowing Angel though probably pretty explicit), It swaps perspectives between Angel and Alastor, Alastor is... so crazy. I think it's pretty funny, but I'm also not shying away from dark ex-abuse-victim-stuff (angel doesn't work for Val anymore but there's fallout it's not swept under the rug).

There's a sample from chapter 2 under the cut

That spider fellow was turning out to be far more entertaining than Alastor could have ever expected!

Why, he hadn’t danced this much since his last partner started stepping out with that wretched moth and his brain oozed out of his… well. It seems very clear to Alastor that Valentino’s hellish power is to make other demons boring.

Not that Vox was ever anything but a mediocre dancer. Angel, though! Oh ho! Not only is Angel excellent at following, but he already knows the proper forms, so Alastor is free to improvise and experiment on the fly! Not even dear Charlie can keep up with him quite so well, quick study though she is. What a waste! To have had him chained to a harlot’s dancing pole for so long, when he has such a talent! And passion! Every time Alastor has solicited a spin around the floor, Angel has indulged him with a joyful laugh.

Then of course, there’s the cooking. With all the new wayward souls to feed, Alastor has had a crash course in Italian batch meals from a surprisingly knowledgeable teacher. Furthermore, he seems quite happy to trade a story about his Zizi for one about Mother. Though, Alastor frequently adds extra seasoning when Angel’s back is turned. His family recipes are tasty, but could always use a little more kick. The result is something Angel calls “Louisitalian”.

And! And! Just the other day Niffty came to get him on account of some commotion and by the time Alastor arrived, Angel had it well in hand! He’d knocked the poor sap right to the floor and had him pinned, fine as a dandelion! Effective communication, with magnificent stagecraft!

Afterwards, he had been cycling between playful glee and that long, deep stillness that Alastor had come to know intimately. That night he saw something powerful in Angel. It was a thing he’d had to find on his own, and it was rare. If exercising such a small amount of passion was enough to trigger that state for Angel, Alastor suspected he would make as natural a hunter as he does a dancer.

Best not to actually invite him on a hunt, though. It would upset Charlie if Angel started killing recreationally again, and Alastor has already put a great deal of effort into cultivating an arrangement with her that results in few questions about what exactly Alastor is doing when nobody is looking.

He will have a think on how to manufacture further opportunities for Angel to practice violence that Charlie cannot morally object to.

What would it have been like if he had recruited Angel in those early days before he was broken and left to fester? It would have been so useful to have him in the collection! To have a true artist’s soul, free to shape as he’d like! He marveled at all the different directions he could have taken his myriad talents, instead of having him wasting away underneath that – UGH! Why it makes him feel… Well, its an unpleasant emotion, to be sure.

The problem is fixed now, Alastor took care of it quite handily. If every problem could be solved in such a simple and satisfying manner, he’d run out of problems altogether! If he had killed that frivolous moth decades ago, he might have been able to free another soul or two wilting under his insufficient light. Why, he’d practically become a philanthropist in the autumn of his career, and isn’t that just the way of it, sometimes?

Unfortunately, the only thing that would upset Charlie more than the ruination of Angel’s little redemption effort would be Alastor collecting his soul. And to think she didn’t consider herself an overlord. A tragedy.

If he can’t own him, he’ll have to settle for a dance here and there. At least it will keep him entertained while this little job drags on.

The hotel wasn’t supposed to work, and his job here is so much more complicated now that it does.

~*~

Angel Dust has a long, storied career being groped, manhandled, and roughhoused in every way imaginable. He’d even invented some new ones. And yet, he feels as if he’s never been grabbed more in his life. Alastor has popped out of so many nooks and crannies that Angel’s startle reflex has given up the ghost.

Usually, it goes like this: Some swing tune will start playing out of fucking thin air, and he just holds out his arms, ready to be swept away by Alastor’s shenanigans.

He hummed one beloved song from the Radio Demon’s childhood or some shit, and suddenly he’s being hunted by a dance beast! Alastor might not be regular-horny, but he’s, like, the dance-horniest man in Hell! Angel has started wearing his more comfortable boots all the time even when they don’t match.

Angel had seen him spinning Charlie around plenty of times, usually when he was trying to manipulate her into doing something he wanted (or into forgiving him when Alastor does something terrible), but Alastor doesn’t seem to be trying to get anything out of Angel other than a dance (or two five hundred). At least he hasn’t set off Angel’s bullshit detector yet.

Angel had wanted Alastor to look at him, to notice him. And oh boy, did he get what he asked for. That attention is so much weirder and more fanatical than he could have ever expected. On the other hand, it comes with way less sex than he would prefer. Al’s such a gentleman, he won’t even try to cop a feel! Doesn’t he have eyes? Does he not appreciate Angel’s sexual magnetism!? It’s insulting, is what it is.

It’s not like Angel doesn’t also love a good dance, he absolutely does, though he’s starting to question if anyone loves dancing as much as Alastor. He loves the breathless feeling he gets dancing with Alastor, but he’d like him to turn it down from an eleven to, like, a nine and a half - eight, minimum.

It’s really cute, actually. Angel can tell he’s trying to make friends, but it’s almost like no one ever taught him how. Or how to relax.

[crazylittlejester]

gonna melt with all these gifts of writing you have bequeathed the world this day

(i went to bed early last night so i woke up to your Apples and Oranges and now i get to read Trouble with Words before going to bed tonight.)

truly, a gift to the universe. hope youre taking care of yourself !!

(i keep wanting to write a thing but i only think about it / get inspo when i am sitting in front of a school assignment 😭)

ALKJLKSJS AAAAH I’M GLAD YOU LIKED EM! i genuinely have been feeling so so bad for not being able to write and share my stuff with y’all, it feels like i haven’t really been reliably sharin’ stuff since like… march, maybe. and somehow during the past month or so when i’ve been trying to take a break from writing and focus on my mental health, i just started getting really really anxious about ever posting again. I literally don’t know why, but for the past like, three weeks the thought of posting anything at all, full fics or mini fics, has freaked me out so so bad. So it really means a lot that people have been enjoying these little writing exercises i’ve been sharing, because they’ve been a way for me to readjust to character dynamics and get back into the writing habit, but also it’s been nice to just post something small and not a huge full length fic, because i think if i’d gone from nothing to dropping a full fic the anxiety would fucking kill me. like the writing exercises don’t feel so serious to me, they feel like small and silly and goofy, and i don’t feel as anxious about them not being perfect haha, and it seriously means the world to me that y’all like em so much

DEADASS I 100% BELIEVE IN MY HEART A MAJOR REASON IVE BEEN STRUGGLING WITH WRITING FICS IS BECAUSE I USED TO WRITE THE MAJORITY OF THEM WHILE ACTIVELY IN THE FUCKING LECTURE HALL- LIKE MY WRITING ENVIRONMENT CHANGED AND NOW IM STRUGGLING :( i totally get ya dude, there’s just something about school work that makes the brain go “oh my god fic ideaaaaa”

[unpickled-olive]

brain is healing

I've always been depressed, but before grad school, I had interests. I was teaching myself woodworking, building things, drawing plans, and restoring rusty hand planes. I had bought my first ever digital microphone and was recording (bad) music. I was practicing the violin on a semi-regular basis.

I also had hyperfixations. I always loved the experience of being obsessed with something for a few weeks at a time, even if I felt empty when the feeling passed. Spending three weeks learning about homesteading, or being a travel therapist, or rollerskating, or learning Arabic.

Grad school wasn't a decision I made out of passion but out of necessity. After getting my Bachelor's in Linguistics (not a hireable degree but an extremely interesting one), I went as far I could with entry-level jobs before going broke and having a mental breakdown. So I decided that if I couldn't find a job I was passionate about, I would get one that where I could 1. decently support myself, 2. do something meaningful for others, and 3. have the freedom to pursue passions outside of work. My dream job became one where I worked 3.5 days a week.

The conclusion was to build upon my background in linguistics and go into healthcare via speech-language pathology.

But when grad school started, I noticed how quickly all of my passion evaporated. Over night, there was suddenly no more planning, drawing, violin-making.

From week 2 to week 100 of school, I didn't have any thoughts about it. I was emotionally drained and too busy to think about enjoying life. I felt like I'd sold my soul for a stable job and when summer and, winter breaks didn't allow me to do anything but sleep, I figured I would be like that forever.

The one creative thing I did that entire time was write a short little sci-fi story. While trying to read a research paper in the student lounge, I suddenly had an idea and deleted the notes I was taking. For three hours, I did nothing but sit there and type. But due to how inundated in academia I was, it was both super morbid (a story about how Earth is the only planet where life degrades and dies due to ageing) and super academic (it took the form of a research paper written by horrified alien observers). I was so in that world that the only thing I could write had an abstract, an intro, a methodology, a results section, and a discussion.

I'm currently 4 months free of grad school (I say like I'm in recovery), and I've noticed that passion and interest are slowly dripping back into my life. I've spent the last few days reading about Proto-Indo-Europeans, just for fun. I read a BOOK. I'm contemplating building an English joiner's bench. I'm even motivated enough to post something personal on a blog no one will ever read.

These days, learning feels like it takes more effort than it did before. I have this feeling that there isn't room in my brain for any more things, so I shouldn't get too excited. It feels like that, and like the inertia of not having exercised in so long. But I notice this feeling lessening with each month.

This is all to say: grad school couldn't kill my soul forever—it could only kill it for two and a half years.

[tommyssupercoolblog]

Writing Pattern Tag Game

@bootlegfrank tagged me and @septiccoffeefreak - who shares this post w me because we're writing partners >:3 (frank tagged us indirectly. and then directly because i responded saying i was gonna do it. so in-indirect-diretly(??))

Rules: list the first lines(s) of your last 10 fics and see if there's a pattern. I also said where each one is from in case u don't wanna scroll through our ao3 and do the math urself!!!

all these fics except one r RPF, sooo BE WARNED. i'm putting everything under da cut, and i'm also putting my reblog banner since fanfiction!!! is!!! art!!!

Seán’s about ready to burn his entire calendar.

from "Scheduling Conflicts and How To Cope - A Guide For The Busy Homosexual"

Tommy hates LA with every fiber of his being.

from "City Of Angels"

it's cold, and it hurts.

from "The Part Where it Gets Better (Lads rescue AU)", and also THIS SOUNDS SO WEIRD OUT OF CONTEXT LIKE WHAT'S COLD??? it's water. the water is cold. this is the character based one btw. WE FOUND IT, THE NON-RPF!!!

Tommy inspects Seán’s behelit tattoo carefully, running his thumb over it a little, then kisses it.

I fucking would. kissing all his tattoos right now. mwah. this goddamn MOOD is from "There's No Place Like Home"

Ethan N3st0r was not expecting Seán to still be awake at three AM, even though with jet lag considered, he really fuckin should have.

I censored the name for search but it's not like that in the fic, that's just for tumblr. anyway, from "Three Drabbles In Which Tommy and Seán are bad at Keeping Secrets"

Ethan's the one to bring it up first, on Brain Leak, of all things.

OPENING WITH ETHAN AGAIN LMAOO. this is from "And Suddenly, It Makes Sense."

"So, who would have thought, huh? T0mmy1nn1t and Jacks3pt1c3y3, famous YouTubers, passed away in their sleep on the same night."

censored for tumblr again. from "Count your Soulmates- There's only one."

Seán and Tommy have sleepovers sometimes.

from "kissing practice". very original opening line /sar /lh (also tbh i feel awful about em being evil in this one :( I know its fanfic and i can do whatever I want but like. idk. i'm not accusing em of being mean IRL okay??? OKAY))

Seán spends about fifteen minutes pacing and staring at himself in the mirror, doing breathing exercises his therapist taught him and trying not to rub or scratch his wrists too much.

from "Puppy Love", the closest we've ever gotten to full misce posting on main

They were gluing ducks to a jeep the first time it happened.

FROM "PETNAMES" AND ALSO THE BEST OPENING LINE EVER

INTERPRETATION TIME!!!!

soooo yeah!!! we like to jump right into action as well but I think it's safe to say our autistic ass habits of giving exposition for everything lead to the specific outcome of starting in the middle of a scene, WITH an explanation of the scene. like we're already in the middle of something going on but also sometimes it's exposition at the same time somehow?? or like right after these first lines. idk maybe that's just me????

the way it's usually less (character does this) and more (character does this BECAUSE ____ // character is doing this and FEELING ____) feels like it's trying to give context, to me. but again idk maybe just me

TIME FOR SEÁN'S READING:

@septiccoffeefreak - "What I'm noticing here is more along the lines of just, how we almost always seem to open with a person. Usually by their actual name(s) too and not just a pronoun. I understand what you mean, Tommy, but I don't personally get that vibe? You could totally be right, of course, I just don't pick up on that. I defenitely notice, though, just how many of these are sentences where the literal first word is a name. the two exceptions to that are the pronoun "they" (which is still a person- or two people actually), and then water.

I guess the dialogue could also be considered an exception, but I don't think it counts since it also directly references us as characters.

and that's not something you necessarily have to do. You could open describing scenery or objects, or with dialogue that DOESN'T have the names of the characters in it- you could open with wind through a blade of grass or a character cursing under their breath or someone's cellphone crashing to the pavement or something. So it's definitely an "us" thing, it's a quirk of our writing style and not just normal writing. I don't know if like, we ALWAYS do this, but I do know that in these ten fics you pulled we do. I wouldn't be surprised if we did it like literally all the time as well, but I'm not going to pretend to know every first line we've ever penned to paper. or...print?? I don't fucking know, here, I'm just analyzing sentences on the internet for a tagging project.

Sorry if this ramble is kind of long, I hope it's at least interesting though??? sort of interesting? kind of interesting, in it's own way, hopefully. at least mildly, like a video you didn't turn on but aren't really reaching for the mouse/remote on to change it. You know?? Yeah. Like that. Or more interesting then that, hopefully. Thanks for uh, reading or, whatever, listening if you have a screen reader i guess, I'm getting nervous and it's very obvious because i'm rambling so I'm gonna hand things back off to the birthday boy, Toms. wish Tommo a happy birthday or I swear to fucking god your liver will be missing in the morning and you'll find it at the bottom of your morning cup of coffee."

back to me:

LMAO

wow omg i love my babygirl,,,, that made me laugh >:p

ANYWAYS. i didn't notice that!! oh em gee,,,,, name moment.

YOU SHOULD DO THIS TOO AND SEE IF YOUUUU SEE ANYTHING!!!!!

I'M TAGGING @kalcifers-blog AND.... no one else because all my other mutuals who i know for a fact write have paused as far as i'm aware, bc they're into mcyt RPF like I am and the w1lbvr situation put them on hiatus. and i don't know if any of them are back to feeling up to writing stuff.

I don't write about w1bvr ever and didn't watch him so I wasn't that affected but a lot of people were even if they just watched so like... Kalcie ur alone on here i'm SO SORRIE. ALSO this is /nf so u don't have to if u dont want to :p :3 >:D :000 >:PPPP :000 >:00

[sloanerisette]

To Have and To Hold From This Day Forward: Chapter 2 - You Make Me Feel Warm

My second entry for Miyakari Autumn! I still plan on working on the last two and will hopefully have those posted in December! I have some good ideas but I need to make them clearer and have the time to actually work on them.

This one is a little bit shorter because I worked with a writing/dialogue exercise I saw and wanted to test myself when it came to limitations/strict guidelines in writing a piece, so I'm really nervous about it, but I hope you all enjoy! And thank you again to @sluggybasson107 and @digitalworldbound for putting on this wonderful event and letting me be sapphic as hell with my writing <3

Summary: This is just but one stop in the long road that is and will be Kari and Yolei's life: their honeymoon.

You can also find the whole thing on AO3 here!

---

“You’re still looking at the lights?”

Kari looked over her shoulder, her smile soft and warm as she locked eyes with Yolei. She nodded to the balcony, still leaning against the railing despite the light dusting of snow.

“They are pretty beautiful,” Yolei said simply, settling next to her wife. She stared out at the bustling city that stretched out for miles, all lit up for the holidays.

“I kind of want to just stand out here all night and watch. It’s so over the top compared to home,” she said, her eyes sweeping over what seemed like a forest of trees all lit up in reds, yellows, and blues.

“You’re right.” Yolei had traveled to plenty of places during her university years, but there were few places that were as grand a spectacle in the winter as New York.

“Coming here was a great idea,” Kari said, letting out a content sigh.

Yolei hummed in agreement.

“It’s been a great honeymoon,” Kari smiled, angling her head to get a better look at Yolei, offering her that same, trademark smile that always caused butterflies to swarm around in her stomach. Even after so many years, it still had that effect on her. She wondered if Kari still had that same feeling with her even now.

Yolei leaned into Kari, who nuzzled into Yolei’s arm.

“I remember when we got serious… I wracked my brain thinking of where I’d want to suggest for our honeymoon,” Yolei admitted, her cheeks starting to burn a deep crimson as she glanced away.

“So you decided to take us to the busiest city in two worlds,” Kari teased gently. Yolei couldn’t help but blush as she stared ahead.

A beat of silence drowned the world out, then Yolei swallowed hard, “Did you ever expect to end up here when we first met?” she asked, hoping the light tone of her voice undercut the seriousness of her question.

“I used to believe I’d end up in a similar place. That one day I would get married, have a child, and teach when I didn’t need to stay home all day,” Kari explained.

A taxi driver laid on their horn, sound blaring through the borough, rising all the way up to their hotel room, and it mingled with English Christmas songs that were playing from an old, tinny speaker at a corner store.

“But you’re happy that it’s us, right?” Yolei suddenly blurted out.

Kari smiled, a light pink dusting her own cheeks as she looked down at her wedding ring to admire it. She twisted it with her right index finger and thumb, her smile growing the whole time.

Yolei sighed, “I wish I didn’t think like this, but I can’t really help it. I guess part of me still thinks about the past and how we started out. And then I can’t help but feel like… I don’t know, maybe I don’t deserve this?” Her stomach turned and she was unable to look Kari in the eyes at that moment, as tears started to glisten in her own.

Kari reached for Yolei’s left hand with her own, their rings gently clinking together, then looked at her, “You never have to worry, because I’m always going to be glad that I have you by my side for better or worse,” she told her, her voice a whisper that was nearly drowned out by the sounds of the city. Kari wanted Yolei to be the only one to hear it, though.

Yolei cradled Kari’s cheek with her free hand, then closed her eyes and leaned in to gently and lovingly kiss her.

[heehoighofoxijin]

Nose Blind

The following is a Br<3ken Colors fic I wrote based on an ask I sent that got answered. I've been itching to write it and I haven't until today. I also decided to do some art in MS Paint to go with it...because why not! So if you're interested...keep reading!

Metal pipe collided with my skull last night, and it knocked the whole world out from under my nose. It didn’t matter that you were defending yourself. Had you hit me anywhere else, I would’ve exercised some semblance of mercy. At least then I still would’ve been able to give you the liberty of a head-start before the chase. But darling, you’ve knocked my senses clean from under me—an unforgivable crime.

I was only trying to connect with you, honey. The loneliness that came over me that when the sun sank below the horizon was unbearable, and to expect me to endure that torture was the very same as the expectations I hold to you tonight. I would have preferred it if you kindly told me to leave. Now that you’ve destroyed everything I had to connect with the world, I feel it’s only right to return the favor.

Don’t cry now, sweetheart, because I’ve only just begun. This meadow is beautiful. If only I could smell it. You have that luxury, but you won’t for long. Drink it all in while you still can. The way the wind pushes the scent of the wildflowers towards your nose, how their incredible colors dance in the field, and how the trees rustle in the distance. Boy are you going to miss it all when all you can hear are your own screams.

The regret on your face won't save you now, my love. What’s done is done. If it’s any consolation, I raise my knife as a toast to your bravery. The goal may not have been to shatter my world into a million pieces, but your success in that department will not go unnoticed! I must admit to the courage and strength it takes to deal that much damage to my brain. You really sent me for a loop. For a moment I didn’t even process what had happened.

Was it really so hard to settle things peacefully with me, dear? Did you not hesitate to pick up the pipe when you saw me in your room? Where did you even get that thing anyway? And why? At what point did you stop loving me? What do you mean you never loved me? HA! That’s the worst lie you’ve ever told. If you didn’t love me, why were you so gentle with me? My nose never failed me until recently. I smelled no evil on you.

Now lift your head to the sky. Witness the shapes the stars make above you. Oh, how sweet it would have been to enjoy the scenery with you over a lovely picnic like I’d planned. Had you not made your mistake, darling, things could have been different. Open wide, now. I need to ensure you keep my name out of your dirty little mouth. I’ll strip you of your tongue so swiftly you won’t even have the chance to taste your own blood. Never loved me. How could you say such a thing?! Well, now you won’t be able to say anything. I hope you’re happy with yourself.

Ah, your eyes look at me with such judgment. But can you really blame me for this? You were the one who took it all away from me. All the color I saw in the world is nothing without the scent. Everything I once loved is blurry now without the one thing attaching me to them. Roses don’t even meet my eye anymore. All I see is red petals and thorns, tainted by blood from the mouth of the thief who stole my world from me. I laid pieces of my heart out for you! But you passed them up in favor of setting this field ablaze.

I bet you smell it now, don’t you? The gasoline. Here, let me give you a good whiff. You may as well be the one to check and make sure this is real. What a lovely, horrified face! I’ll take that as a good sign. I wonder if you’ll keep it up when I pour in down your nose.

You’re going to make a great ball of flame, you know. I bet your corpse will smell so horrid it’ll reach all the way to the heart of the city! And we’re pretty far out. It might take a day or two, but I’m sure somebody will find you. Maybe they’ll even feel bad. Personally, I won’t be able to find this place again. Without my sense of smell… Where did I put that matchbox?

There we go. What a flame! We could’ve danced this passionately, you know. We would have been perfect together if only you’d have listened to me when I tried to reason with you. If only you hadn’t picked up the pipe. If only you hadn’t tried to bash my head in. I have to say at least you tried to kill me. Unfortunately for you, your failed attempt led to your demise instead. Would it not have been easier for you to just love me back? Well, it doesn't matter anymore. Here, have some flowers from the field… Take them all, since you’re so fucking greedy.

Oh, hey DG. Steak? Sure. Don’t see why not. There’s a nice fire going here so you can cook yours. I'll try to at least enjoy the texture.

[your-divine-ribs]

The Devil Next Door Part 11

Words: 2.5k

Tensions are mounting… ❤️‍🔥

The Devil Next Door Masterlist Main Masterlist

❤️‍🔥 Y/N’s POV ❤️‍🔥

They say exercise releases endorphins and you could certainly do with the boost to your mood this morning so you double your efforts, feet pounding hard on the pavement as you pick up your pace, chasing that natural high. You've got your EarPods in, your upbeat exercise playlist blasting, the hazy autumn early morning sunshine bathing you in liquid gold.

You should be in the zone right now. Running usually completely clears your mind, obliterating any unwanted negativity and putting you in a positive mindset to start the day, but for some reason it's just not working today. As you round the corner by the park and clock up mile number three you're still plagued with thoughts of Van and his sneakiness. But even worse than that, other thoughts start intruding. Rather than just fuming about what he'd done, your mind starts exploring why he'd actually gone to the lengths to do what he did. You've been so preoccupied with thinking that he was intent on sabotaging you for purely spiteful reasons, but the more you think about it the more that explanation seems flawed. If he'd wanted to ruin your night there were a hundred other ways he could have done it to really piss you off and cause as much chaos as possible, but no real damage had been done after all if you were being completely honest with yourself. In fact, in reality the person who came off worst out of the whole situation was Van himself. Fair enough he'd been devious and he'd lied, but his intended goal seemed to be simply to spend more time alone with you.

It's actually quite romantic in an absurdly chaotic kind of way...

Stop it Y/N! Don't make excuses for him! He's a creep and he can't bear to see you happy with Tom!

But he hates seeing you with Tom for one reason and one reason only... he's obviously jealous and wants you all to himself...

But that doesn't give him the right to interfere! Just steer clear of him, he's bad news... and you don't want him anyway!

You groan internally as your inner-self wrestles with how you should feel, your flighty heart and your rational brain totally disagreeing. It's pretty obvious that no amount of physical exercise is going to unburden your mind and stop you from agonising over this now, so you make a sharp turn down the path that cuts through the park, intending to go home and shower off the exertions of your run. Maybe you should just go into work early and see if you can pick up a morning shift after all. The ward's always busier first thing in the morning and you know they've been short-staffed lately.

❤️‍🔥 Van's POV ❤️‍🔥

I cup my hand against the breeze to shield the flame from my lighter, sucking in a lungful of acrid smoke and letting it linger in my lungs until they're burning. My hankering for a morning smoke had taken a turn when I'd noted the little bag of weed and rolling papers that Bondy had dumped on the kitchen counter, so I'd decided to roll a spliff and start my morning off the way I intended the rest of my day to pan out. Getting buzzed and taking it easy.

There was no point stewing over the situation with Y/N like I had been since I'd woken from my restless sleep. There was no way on this earth that anything was going to happen between us now after last night so I needed to just let it go and concentrate my efforts on things that were actually worth my time and effort. Song-writing for example... and the band... and getting some more gigs lined up. But all that could wait. I'd been working hard and doggedly enough that I could easily afford to put it all on the back burner and just let loose for one day. The fame and fortune I craved wasn't going to escape my clutches if I let my foot off the gas for a little while and indulged in a little 'me' time. It's therapeutic after all.

"All work and no play makes Van a dull boy!" I chuckle to myself, tipping my head back to blow lazy trails of smoke into the morning air, watching the scattered clouds scudding across the sky. For saying it's late October it's actually a beautiful morning and unseasonably warm. The heat of the sun's rays kiss the bare skin of my chest as I lean against the door frame, basking in it, soaking up the warmth and enjoying the pleasant fuzziness that's starting to haze my brain.

"For fucks sake, that's not weed you're smoking is it? At this time in the morning?"

I jolt like I've been shocked, sucking the smoke from another inhale too far into my lungs where it scorches, forcing me to cough and splutter.

"Jesus! Where did you spring from?" I gape, instinctively tucking the hand holding the spliff behind my back even though it's plainly obvious what I'm smoking from the distinctive odour.

It's Y/N, hair scraped back off her pretty face into a pony tail, the flush high on her cheeks and dressed head to toe in Lycra running gear. She looks radiant in the early morning sunshine. Even though she's blinking up at me with accusing eyes and her lips are pulled into a sneer she still manages to look gorgeous, like she's just rolled right out of a dream. My wet dream to be precise I think to myself, my cheeks warming as I think about what I was doing in tune to thoughts of her in the shower just ten minutes ago.

"It is isn't it?" She grimaces, coming to a stop right in front of me, nose creased up in distaste. "That what passes for breakfast in your household then, is it?"

I consider lying, telling her that it's just a roll up, some fancy new baccy my mate's picked up for me from holiday, but I reason with myself that there's little point. Y/N already hates me after last night. She thinks I'm a liar and I'm pretty sure telling fibs is a bigger misdemeanour in her book than getting stoned on a random weekday before 9am.

"Maybe it is," I counter. "Don't see that it's any of your business anyway."

I bring the spliff back to my lips and take another drag, actually loving the way I glimpse a flash of annoyance in her eyes. Even though I still feel wounded about ruining the tiny bit of progress I made with her last night, there's no denying that there's something about her fiery side that riles me up. I'm pretty sure she enjoys it too so I may as well have a little fun with it. I've not got anything to lose.

She huffs pointedly. "No, none of my business at all. If you wanna be such a non-productive member of society you go right ahead. Some of us have to go to work five days a week."

Ouch, that was a low blow. It's the sort of comment I've been getting all my life since I started pursuing music-making as a career. It never put me off though, if anything it just made me work harder. I wanted to prove them all wrong. Now I want to prove her wrong. I fix her with an even stare, challenging.

"Just 'cause I don't have a nine to five job doesn't mean I don't work hard. You wanna know how many gigs I've booked the band since we moved here? You wanna know how many songs I've written just this week? I'm not just sitting round on my arse all day ya know. Reckon I've earned myself a break. Maybe if you gave yourself a break too once in a while you wouldn't be so uptight all the time..."

"I'm not fucking uptight!" She almost shrieks at me.

Bingo. I knew I'd hit the jackpot with that one. I know I'm being a dick and I should probably be on my knees begging for forgiveness after last night's antics but I can't resist. Maybe it's the way my heart races seeing her all worked up that spurs me on. Maybe it's that little quirk of her luscious pink lips, a green light for me that tells me that some wickedly dark part of her enjoys our confrontations just as much as I do.

"Hmm I can see that." I chide, really pushing my luck. I hold the blunt out to her. "Maybe you should join me? Good shit this is. Might chill ya out a bit."

She looks horrified at the suggestion. "As if I'd smoke that crap! I'm very particular about what I put in my body if you must know."

And what a body it is. Running gear has never looked so sexy, the tight fabric accentuating her curves in the most delectable way. I can see little tiny beads of perspiration decorating her collar bones where she's been working up a sweat and my mind goes to dark, filthy places immediately.

"So am I love, only the best for me," I tell her, feeling a rush of cocky confidence. "My body's a temple and all that."

I lean back against the door frame, tipping my head back to take another drag. My eyes are squinted almost shut against the harshness of the sun's rays but I can still see Y/N. She's checking me out whilst she thinks I'm not looking, I know she is. I'm no Adonis, I might not have Tom's tanned and toned physique but I'm proud of what I've got. Y/N certainly seems to be appreciative the way her eyes roam over my frame, lingering where the bath towel's slung low around my hips. I bite back a smug smile as I finally look back down at her and she seems mildly flustered, wrenching her gaze upwards quickly to meet mine. Her eyes are blazing and her cheeks are flushed a pretty shade of pink.

"You're so full of shit you know Van. I don't know why I'm even giving you the time of day after last night."

I let my lips curl into the smirk that I was holding back. "You say that but you still seem awfully keen to spend time with me this morning darlin'."

I tip her a cheeky wink and this appears to fluster her even further. "Well I can't exactly avoid you when you live right next door can I? And I'm not your fucking darling so don't call me that, okay?"

I chuckle as she glares at me. God, she's so easy to wind up but I don't want to overstep the mark. As much as I'm enjoying the tension crackling between us I don't seriously want her to end up despising me. I'd only be pushing her further into Tom's arms and that's the last thing I want at the end of the day.

I raise up my hands in a gesture of surrender, trying to look as sincere as possible. "Okay, okay, I was only trying to be friendly. I already said I was sorry, and you're right, we can't avoid each other forever. So what d'ya say we wipe the slate clean and start again?"

She folds her arms across her chest defensively. "You've obviously got a short memory. That's exactly what we were doing last night until you went and fucked it all up again! Now if you'll excuse me I have a shift to get to. You know, because some of us have real responsibilities."

She side-steps me but not properly, close enough that she actually body-checks me as she stalks past, shunting me hard with her shoulder. She's only small but she's deceptively strong for her small stature and I'm caught unawares, standing here half-stoned and dopey and not expecting that level of hostility. I falter back against the brickwork, shocked by her aggressiveness which bizarrely turns me on more than it angers me which I'm pretty sure wasn't her intention.

I should just leave it. I know I should. Let her have her little dig and be on her way, shrug it off like I usually do when people wind me up but I just can't let things lie with her.

"What the hell was that for?" I scowl, righting myself quickly and reaching for her shoulder, spinning her around so she's backed up against the wall. I step closer until my hips are nearly touching hers. "Why have you got such a problem with me huh? And don't say it's because of last night as you've been off with me ever since I moved in. You never even gave me a chance."

My heart's beating so hard I swear I can hear it, I can definitely feel it pumping the blood around my body... and to one place in particular. I always get a little horny when I'm buzzed and the fact that I'm standing out here in just a bath-towel and the way she's looking up at me now all intense and defiant like a little fire-ball isn't helping matters.

"Because I know exactly what your sort are like, that's why!" She sneers, and her hands shoot up and forward like she's going to push me away but she doesn't. She just lets them rest on the plane on my bare chest, her eyes boring into mine before they slip down to my lips and swiftly back up.

"My sort? What's that supposed to mean?"

I'm not backing down. I press forward a little, just enough pressure to close the gap between us an inch and she lets out a small gasp. She licks her lips and swallows hard.

Christ... am I imagining it? The chemistry between us is insane and I'm positive she must feel it too. My skin's tingling where she's touching me and the air between us is practically thrumming. It's like a potent mixture of frustration and anticipation and if I'm not massively mistaken... lust, a pent up energy that might explode if someone doesn't say something soon...

"Van... you seen my rolling papers? Oh... oh shit sorry guys. Didn't realise I was interrupting something."

Bondy's voice sounds from nearby and I jump back like I've just been caught doing something illegal.

"You weren't interrupting anything!" Y/N blurts out hurriedly before I even have a chance to speak. Bondy's standing there in the doorframe with a sheepish expression which turns quizzical as he looks at me.

"What she said," I crack a half-grin that falters as Y/N glares daggers at me, slipping away from our little stand-off, the spell well and truly broken.

Bloody Bondy.

"Anyway, like I was saying, I need to get to work." Y/N bustles past the both of us, pausing to greet Bondy cheerily. "Alright Johnny, don't forget to pop round for that cuppa soon like we were talking about." Then she swivels her head around to me. "In answer to your question Van, I'm sure you can work it out. Let's just stay out of each other's way as much as we can from now on hey?"

[matrixxsystem]

Terrapin Soup Part 4 (1/3)

After a bit more time at the park Usagi packed his things and took Leos hand as he led him towards his house, "Y'know. I'd been thinking, about out chat the other night." He started as Leo used his free hand to text his brothers that he'd be out late again tonight. To no ones surprise. "Oh? Which part were you thinking about." "Us being boyfriends. Of course, I know you'd meant it more in a.. Pretend situation." "Right.. I mean, it'd be a little weird to date someone you just met that day. I mean we'd been talking for a while but I couldn't just ask you something like that forward as soon as we met and-" "You're rambling." "Hm? O-Oh.. Sorry I uh.." "It's alright, I find it kind of.. Endearing."

"Is.. That a good thing?" Usagi chuckled giving his hand a little squeeze, "Yes Leo, it's a good thing. Endearing means to inspire affection. I like listening to you. Which brings me back to what I was saying. If you'd like, I think it would be beneficial for us to date. But as an honest couple rather then a mask to deter suspicion." "Beneficial..?" He asked, raising a brow and hoping his face markings would be enough to hide any blushing. "Yes. On each of our ends we'd be supplied with plenty of alibis, someone to collaborate with, and a real relationship with someone who shares many of the same preferences. Seems like a fair deal, seeing as neither of us mentioned having feelings for someone else prior to this agreement. And seeing how your family already has a good impression of me it'd be easier for us to stick with each other for a while instead of trying to find someone else, and slowly trying to ease them into these kind of.. Dietary preferences. And... You aren't exactly awful to look at so, that would be a plus as well.." Leo laughed a bit hearing the last bit, his eyes scanned over Usagi, having already called him hot it wasn't a lie to say something similar.. And they already had quite a bit in common. Who else would like him as he was? Who else would treat him as kindly as Usagi had? Probably no one.. "Well you make a solid argument, but I would've said yes if you asked me out normally too y'know~"

"Well, far from normal seems to be our thing. Why bother with it?" "I love how you think.."

-_-_-_-

Once the brothers set foot on the other side of the portal they headed off to do their own thing, doing their daily training exercises then right to goofing off as usual till later that day when Leo finally texted letting them know he wouldn't be home till later that night. [R (Raph) D (Donnie) M (Mikey) for texting]

R; 'Hey what are you all up too'

M; 'I'm writing down the pizza puff recipe for the next time we see Leos boyfriend'

D; 'At the moment I'm doing some upgrades, why do you need something?'

R; 'I mean, it's not like important or anything. I just. So what did you think of Usagi?' D; 'You wanna gossip about Leos boyfriend? I mean hey I'm all for it I love drama but it's kinda random' 

M; 'Yeah I thought he was great! Oh! And he's soooo fluffy too! Did anyone else get to touch his fur I'm so jealous we aren't mammals :C'

R; 'I don't wanna gossip! I was just wondering.. If anyone else got like... A weird feeling' D; 'I mean he didn't like. Impress me, but he was better then most guys Leo's been fanning over lately, and he's real so I can't ask for much else. And he did bring us food, that was an unnecessary kindness. Why? Did you get a weird vibe?' R; 'I dunno.. I mean not really I just.. Raph's brain is thinking a lot right now.' M; 'Well tell Raph that Dr. Feelings says it's okay to be conflicted, just don't overthink it okay? He's our brother so it's normal to feel a little uneasy about him going off with someone else, but you can't let that feeling interfere with something that makes him happy if there's no tangible sign of danger' R; 'I guess you're right.. It's just weird. He's not here that often anymore and I mean he's here for missions and stuff but don't you guys miss him?' D; 'I don't usually interject when emotions are involved but I think I have something to contribute, this once.'

D; 'When we were younger me and Leo made a promise, an oath if you would. To always be there for each other, no matter how mad we were or how far away, we'd always be brothers and always have each others shells. Even to this day that idiot still stands behind me when we get attacked as if its second nature to cover me even I wear my battle shell. Despite his absence from recent activities, I don't feel like he's MIA in our lives, because I know that if I need him he'll be there, in the most flashy and annoying way mind you, but still.'

M; 'Awww Dee :'3c ' R; 'That was.. Surprisingly heartfelt. Thanks Dee.' D; 'Mhmm are we done here I need to keep this core stabilized or it could blow up so Imma brb'  R; 'I'm sorry what-?' -_-_-_-

Usagi led Leo into his house, not far from the garden they'd had lunch in. It looked surprisingly normal, its was a mix of a modern New York style house and a Japanese apartment. Leo smiled a little as he was led in, he wasn't sure why but his mind had made up this dark and ominous house he thought Usagi would've lived in that sort of unnerved him, but this of course was the much more realistic place. "Please make yourself comfortable, my teacher is the houses owner but he is not here often, and will not mind if I have guests. He is a tall lion yokai, which may look a bit intimidating but he's harmless." Leo nodded, glancing towards the kitchen as he listened. "You can look around if you'd like?" "Hm? O-Oh, no it's alright. I was just.. Curious." Usagi chuckled and took Leos hand again leading him into the kitchen, it was surprisingly clean- Well.. Usagi did say he liked to be organized. He mentally cursed himself out for thinking such harsh things about Usagi and what kind of things he might do in his own time. "I like that you're curious." He said with a little smile, letting go of his hand to show him around, "It's no fun to sit in silence. Ask anything you want, and I will answer." "..You will, no matter what it is hm?" "Correct, as long as I'm comfortable doing so of course." Leo nodded, leaning against the island counter in the kitchen, "Do you cook regular stuff and.. Other stuff, in a separate place?" Usagi went to the other side of the counter  leaning forward, "That would waste time, I do all food prep here. And in the basement where we have a bigger freezer, but it's also very well kept down there." "Oh? What kind of prep do you need to do there?" Part 4.2 Part 1

TS Master Post

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

Sorry about this, but it’s is me moaning again.

I dunno. I am so worn out.

Everything is broken or breaking. Everything needs work. I can’t afford to fix or replace anything, and the basics of things like “shelter” are getting rather conceptual rather than real.

My body is failing me, and has so much wrong at once I don’t even think my standard answer to how I’m doing of “surviving” is true anymore. Like, the clock is ticking on when I break down for good. It can be summed up as: on physical/health level a pretty bad.

I need proper exercise, like not working on stuff, but like my walks in the woods. I miss the woods. I used to go every single day, and now I haven’t even been managing once a week!

I don’t have time for just being with animals, so they only see me when I feed them or give them medicine. I feel guilty all the time.

You know, I haven’t taken pictures of my sculpting for over three weeks now. I haven’t even taken a single photo in a week…a WEEK! ME! Who had been taking 5,000 photos a month! I carry my camera but I never have time or energy or focus or…I dunno, I just don’t care.

I haven’t gotten any sculpting ready to sculpt with. This little bit of old stuff will take forever to grind back into usable, and if I didn’t have to make an Easter gift for Mom I think I might just give up. It’s no fun with sculpey that crumbles and won’t stick, that has given my thumbs and fingers huge calluses, and I’ve no energy to waste making this god awful crap.

But I’ve gotta make something for Mom. I have no ideas and awful sculpey that won’t even let me attach ears on a damn rabbit! I’m really stressed about this…

Long ago I gave up writing except for my nightly journal entry. Even that has gotten to be more of a laundry list of my day since my life got too wrecked for contemplation. I haven’t missed a night since I was in my late teens, but for the last five months I’ve been falling asleep writing almost every single night! It’s gotten so bad that I am falling asleep before I finish writing about even my morning.

Then I wake up, at 3 or 4 am with a light burning my eyes, ink all over me, an a deep sense of fear and despair overwhelming me. I lie awake for hours, desperately trying to distract my brain from feeling like I’ve fallen out of a plane without a parachute.

Six hours of sleep. No matter how early I go to bed, or late I lie in, I can’t seem to get more than 6 hrs of sleep! I dream about sleep when I actually do dream.

I miss dreams. Proper dreams. I used to have the most amazing dreams.

I also miss daydreaming. I used to do that ALL the time. My hands could be busy but I could still conjure other worlds. . I loved being cozy in bed just so I could imagine, and now I lie there and worry. I can’t even daydream in that most perfect of settings!

Hell, I can’t think. As a child when people asked my favorite thing to do I’d say “thinking” first. Now it’s like there is no space or energy left over. Am I getting stupid too? I feel like I am. I certainly can’t focus.

That includes focusing on movies. I used to watch a movie every single night. Now even when I watch one I feel like it slides right out of my head. I “watch” it enough to tell you the gist of the plot but it’s like a partially over heard voice rather than a conversation.** I do a lot of “I think I’d like it, but I need to rewatch it when I can actually, you know, watch…”

I keep forgetting things. I understand why. I have soooo many things to do, new things get added every damn day, I have only one me to do it all, and this me is exhausted. Of course I forget things. But it still bothers me.

Today I remembered I had forgotten the new book to start reading Mom. I’d left it at her house yesterday, having picked it out before spending the next three hours working on stuff. So I went around there to get it to read it when I called her, but it turned out I had also forgotten where I put it. (In my defense, I’d set it on top of a stack of stuff I’d been sorting out, and when it fell over I’d been too tired to pick it up right then. It was kinda out of sight, out of mind under the pile) Then, when I went to call Mom it turned out I had forgotten to charge me phone! So today Mom never got her call because I’m a forgetful idiot!

I’m terrified I am going to forget to pay this one bill by the end of the month. I have to save the money for it out of my grocery funds, so it’s going to be after next week’s shopping trip before I can pay it. Until then I have it set up on the stove, which, yeah, is a bit of a hazard, BUT at least I have to look at it every day.

I have to look at it every day. My chest tightens when I look at it. And this is a doable bill! I just have to spend a few weeks with mac-n-cheese or bean soup. Imagine what it would be like if I had gotten the car worked on, like I need to, or if I went to a doctor, like a normal sensible person would do?

Sorry. I don’t suppose there is a point to all this. I’m tired, I feel rotten, my life is getting more precarious by the day, I am mostly not doing any of the things I enjoy, and not having fun when I try to. I have no money or energy or time. And, being isolated and alone in all this, I vent on my silly blog where people are trying to enjoy two year old snow pics without having to put up with my constant whining!

LOL/**sobs**

(And now I’m thinking of all the asks, comments, and messages I haven’t replied to yet. Geez! That makes inflicting this on you folks even worse!!)

**Movies are like conversations, at least if you do it right. Watching isn’t a passive experience as you let yourself go “into” the movie. It doesn’t matter if you hate it and mock it, or adore it and are inspired. Your watching reacts. You aren’t watching the “same” movie as the person sitting next to you, because you bring your experiences, personality, and so forth to it. The object of the movie is incomplete without a viewer, but each viewer completes it with themselves. Not explaining this well….