#if nothing else is taken away from this just know that Jasper is a perfect boy who can do nothing wrong and he’s such perfect representation
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the-squeege · 2 months ago
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I’ve been a huge fan of Glass Scientists for… what’s it been like… 7 years? Something like that.. anyway I’m super happy to see it getting more recognition AND EVEN GETTING PUBLISHED??? I got volume 2 the other day and in reading the after words about Jasper I figured I HAD to draw him and talk about why he is SO important to me and why I’m so thankful he exists the way he does. There’s so much else I could say about this series and how much I adore it and how important it is to me but for here I’m just gonna focus on Jasper and why he is so incredibly important to me.
also please go read the glass scientists if you haven’t already it’s SO GOOD
It’s.. not something I talk a lot about but to anybody who pays attention to me on here, it’s probably pretty obvious that I’m trans. Or maybe not. My best friends didn’t know for like 2 years until I made a joke about taking my t shots lol.
When I first started reading glass scientists I didn’t know I was trans. And ultimately this isn’t really a story of how I found out, to be completely blunt it kinda just happened and I’m like yeah, I’m way more comfortable this way, this is just who I am.
After coming to terms with being trans, I found a lot of comfort in many of the characters in Glass Scientists. Over the years something really resonated with me more and more about Jasper.. I always appreciated how yeah, he’s a guy and he’s also soft! And sweet! And I know how much of a walking talking trans man stereotype I am but it felt so nice to see a male character acting and feeling the way I do, bad posture and all.
A few years later and the pages where Jasper talks about being trans drop and HOOH BOY
Everything in these few pages just felt so real and personal to me. Like I had lived this experience of coming out before, as it’s something I and many other trans folk have had to do over and over again. The way Jasper talks about his journey, the way Rachel sees him and the way that the story just continues on with Jasper just.. being who he is. Especially in a world with almost no transmasc representation in media???? This was MONUMENTAL for me. I didn’t really know it was possible to be so seen and so understood in a piece of media.
The real kicker was Rachel’s line about how Jasper must have been so uncomfortable. As someone who’s been lucky enough to have a lot of support, and a loving partner who has been nothing short of incredibly kind and patient and understanding, that line just. I dunno it makes me tear up a little (a lot) every time I read it. That understanding and acknowledgment in those few little words means the world to me.
I wanted to write this out and be a lil vulnerable here after reading how Sage was worried about their portrayal of Jasper. Idk if they’d ever see this, but I wanted to get it out there that as a trans man myself, Jasper is perfect. I’m so thankful that Jasper exists in the story as he does, and that so much love and care went into portraying him. I get the same feeling reading that scene with Rachel and Jasper as I’ve had being comforted by friends and family. It’s so personal and touching. Thank you for writing Jasper the way he is <3
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bless-my-demons · 1 year ago
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Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-Seven
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Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?
Warnings: Oh god the FLUFF
Notes: I did this one a little different, I tried sort of a true dual POV and it’s got me fucked up y’all-goddamn. Don’t ask me where the fuck this came from because I have no thoughts, head fucking empty. I just - I can’t, just read it.
Word Count: 1287
Series Masterlist
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• March 28th, 2006 • Forks HS •
Reader
I give up.
Striding from my locker, I interrupt Jasper and his conversation with Alice, pushing him towards the familiar small alcove below the stairs.
I breathe heavily, working up the nerve to ask him what’s been on my mind for an ungodly amount of time. Fuck me, I just miss him so damn much.
“Can I kiss you?” I’m weak, weak for needing him so badly after such a short amount of time, I can’t even look anywhere else than the middle of his chest as I make my request.
He surges forward after a heavy beat of silence once I finish my question, he cages me against the wall, “Be mine.”
His words snatch the oxygen from my body, I glance up to his eyes, “What?”
“Come over this weekend,” his gaze is intense - staring into my very soul, “Let me apologize for the last six months. Give me a shot, darlin’.”
“Okay-” I don’t even finish my answer before he moves to grant my wish.
Oh god.
His lips lay themselves upon mine and I swear time stops. It’s a cliche, but everything else in my life no longer exists aside from his lips on mine. Cold and firm, but gentle and steady. A perfect match, non-dominating or in a hurry, but taking his time. As if he were memorizing the pressure, the taste, the way my own lips moved against his.
As if he were coaxing my soul out into the open, to bask in the warm sun that is his love.
Our mouths slotted perfectly together, familiar, the way my body clicked with his. My arms wind themselves around his neck and he kisses me deeper, more - I need more. Two magnets drawn together, two pieces of torn cloth restitched to be whole again, two halves meant to find their place in each other. I move, tilting my head and he responds in kind, an equal in every way despite our differing mortality.
I almost didn’t get this. This-this summation of feelings and butterflies an-and everything between us that’s built up. The lead weight in my stomach from this realization threatens to yank me from the cloud nine his kiss firmly perched me on.
Tears, fat and heavy roll down my cheeks as I grip his shirt desperately and he pulls away just far enough to inspect my face.
“Why are you crying, sweet girl?”
“I never… I never thought I’d get the chance…” My eyes remain closed, unable to meet his gaze.
“To what?” I can hear the crinkle in his brow just from his voice.
“To kiss you again.”
I hear his sharp intake of breath and I know my words cut deep.
I open my eyes, “You left me and it’s all I’ve ever thought about. I-I-”
“Darlin’,” his turn for his eyes to flutter closed, “I’ve regretted every day since that night. I regret my lapse in control, I regret not having a better grip on myself, to handle these urges.”
“Can you?” My lips ghost over his as I whisper my question, the addiction having taken root. “Can you handle it now?”
A shuddering breath exits his mouth and his eyes snap open, a rare display of my effect on the vampire. “No.”
The answer zaps through me, but he stops me before I could pull away. “No? Jasper-“
“You-I-“ a growl pushes to the surface, giving away his flustered state. “I can’t fucking think for god’s sake.”
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Jasper
Fuck me, her mouth is pure sin.
I could lose myself in those lips and never care about resurfacing ever again. Everything she does, from how she tilts her chin to welcome me further, to how her body yields to mine and forms against me, it’s heaven. The burning in my throat is secondary to the pure bliss her kiss envelopes me with.
Not to mention her fucking emotions.
Need, happiness, hunger, relief, contentment. They just keep coming, one after the other and I swear it inflates my chest with a happiness of my own, like a thousand butterflies trapped inside the cage of my ribs.
Love.
It feels like two ribbons entwining, dancing in sync, twisting in ways that create a beautiful tangled mess not soon to be unwound.
Love?
This one is different, I’ve felt love before - it’s shines from Esme’s face on a daily basis, it seeps from the smile lines around Carlisle’s mouth, and it passes through me with every one of Emmett’s hugs. But this? This love? This love is flowing straight from her heart into mine, breathing life into something long cold and dead. This love is meant only for me, only to be shared between mates, this kind of love is meant to be secreted away and only examined in moments of vulnerability between two like souls.
I love her and she loves me.
The thought rocks me to my core and I cup the back of her head as she leans back a little, allowing me to deepen the kiss.
A wetness begins to trickle down her cheeks and it startles me from the trance of her delicious mouth, tears?
I pull back far enough to catch the tear tracks from her tightly closed lids, “Why are you crying, sweet girl?”
“I never… I never thought I’d get the chance…” She trails off, still hiding those gorgeous eyes from me.
“To what?” I furrow my brow, not quite following.
“To kiss you again.”
I inhale quickly to try and soften the blow her words deal straight to my chest. She’s yearned for this moment for months, just like I have.
She finally opens her eyes, “You left me and it’s all I’ve ever thought about. I-I-”
“Darlin’,” it’s my turn for my eyes to flutter closed, “I’ve regretted every day since that night. I regret my lapse in control, I regret not having a better grip on myself, to handle these urges.”
“Can you?” Her lips ghost over my own as she whispers her question, stealing the very thoughts from my brain. “Can you handle it now?”
I exhale a shuddering breath before my eyes snap open, “No.”
“No? Jasper-“
“You-I-“ a growl erupts before I could stop it, frustration at my own thoughts bubbling up. “I can’t fucking think for god’s sake.”
Will this girl ever learn that she controls me? That I bend to her? She has me wrapped securely around her delicate little pinky and she has no idea.
“I need to hunt before this weekend, but I will pick you up Saturday morning at your house.” I promise her, my nose gently rubbing against hers in a soothing motion.
“Okay.” Her breathless reply damn-near brings me to my knees.
“Darlin’?” I question her, slightly amused.
“Hmm?” Her eyes are closed, her emotions are just emanating absolute bliss.
“We still have half a school day to get through.” I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince, her or myself.
“I’m not sure you can convince me to go.” Fuck.
“Darlin’, you gotta help me out here.” I scratch the base of her skull lightly to get her attention and it was definitely the wrong thing to do, her grip tightens on my shirt and her bliss burns a little heavier, almost suffocating me.
“Now why would I do that when I could just kiss you again?” Her eyes crack open, but I’m already in motion.
How could I argue with logic like that? My lips are on hers again before that beautiful pink mouth could part even a fraction.
Love, oh I could get used to this.
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ofallthingsnasty · 2 years ago
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friendly favors
Pairing: Jasper (Steven Universe) x F!Reader Tags: HARD noncon, vaginal fingering, piss (loss of bladder control), physical abuse (includes loss of teeth), reader is implied to be chubby, dead dove: do not eat Word count: 3.6k Summary: What are favors between friends, right? When Steven asks you for one, you’re happy to help him with trying to get a certain gem to Little Homeworld. Too bad she has been itching for a fight.
Note: Mind the tags, as always. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI. Been meaning to write this for two years now and I finally got around to make this little thing happen :) Hope you enjoy and requests are open! I really hope the format is right, tumblr gave me hell when uploading this 😬 my ao3 is here, if you'd rather read there.
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It’s hot. The morning air around you is heavy with the smell of heat and summer, yesterday’s weather still clinging to the underbrush. You can feel the sweat building underneath the layer of sticky sunscreen you applied before leaving the house, a fragile shield against the sun that is slowly starting to peek through the leaves. You’ll probably sweat it off before even reaching your destination but you can’t find it in you to care, your stomach too fluttery in anticipation. You’re too nervous for this beautiful Saturday morning, doubt creeping into you with every single step you take. A deep breath, then two and you feel a little better, that hollow pit in your belly swallowed up by your breakfast again. Think logically, you tell yourself. Nothing is going to happen. She’s going to say no and that’ll be it. You kick a stray rock to the side and sigh. How did you even agree to this? It’s your own fault, really. Ever since the Crystal Gems had started building Little Homeworld, ever since Beach City had been flooded with colorful aliens, you had been obsessed. You had gotten involved maybe a year or so back, happy to help with lessons and anything else Steven and the gems needed assistance with. You had grown closer to the boy over time and learned soon enough that both ancient rebel aliens and serious, established adults (like you) couldn’t say no to his puppy eyes. And this is how he got you to trudge through the forest, a couple of pamphlets in hand and some pre-crafted sentences in mind, on your way to persuade one of the rogue gems into joining the rest of them over at Little Homeschool. To be fair, you didn’t agree because of his puppy eyes alone. How could you deny yourself the opportunity to see the Jasper, the perfect quartz according to some of the Crystal Gems, the very gem who corrupted herself? You have heard some stories here and there, enough to be curious about her - but also enough to be aware of the fact that she isn’t to be taken lightly. Tales of violence and fury, of pride and a steep downfall kept you curious. Now that you’re mere minutes away from facing her, you don’t really know if satisfying that curiosity is worth the trouble. She could easily turn you into minced meat, if she so pleased. 
Your stomach cramps at the thought. She wouldn’t hurt you, right? Her obsession with Steven was misguided and she wouldn’t try to outright murder a human, right? No, that’s just your anxiety running wild - she might perceive you as an annoyance, but you’re pretty sure she’ll just chew you out for bothering her. You kick another stone as you try to calm yourself, this time with more force than intended. It bounces off the cap of your boot, up into the air. Instead of spiraling further for really no reason at all, you try to focus your mind on the reasons you agreed to this, the reasons you’re so enamored with these alien life forms. They’re fascinating, really. Thousands of years old, capable of creating and maneuvering astonishing tech, some strong enough to rip you apart with their bare hands, others able to manipulate the nature around them. And yet, here on earth they’re nothing but bumbling idiots when faced with the basics of human day-to-day life. It’s strangely endearing to watch them fail at making phone calls and cooking and rewarding to show them just how it’s done right. You’ve made friends over in Little Homeworld and your weekends are usually filled with gems and their antics, not that you mind. It’s easy enough to forget that most of them have been involved in earth-shattering wars, that some have killed - not only each other but organic lives as well. It’s a little too much to think about sometimes, but when they’re in Little Homeworld, they can finally be themselves, finally free to pursue their own interests - and you can forget how easy it would be for a quartz to rip you limb from limb. You’re easy to get along with, at least that's what Steven has told you. Soft and eager to give out smiles and laughter - every time you drop by to spend some time in Little Homeworld, you have a gaggle of gems following you around, curious about your day and excited to tell you about theirs. Maybe that’s why Steven had asked you to talk to her. Maybe she will be more receptive to an organic - although he had sounded skeptic at the very thought of that and you weren’t all too sure either after asking the other Crystal Gems some more questions about their shared past. It is a sign of good character that he wants to try to get her to re-join gem society at least somewhat and although you don’t think you’ll be able to talk her into it, it is worth the shot. Maybe you were too confident in yourself, in your ability to sweet-talk gems of any kind when you agreed to this some days ago, but if it’s any help to Steven and Little Homeworld, you can’t say no.
One last deep breath and you feel a little better. You know you’re almost there - the forest around you gets more and more sparse, broken stumps peppered in between the massive trees around you. There is a clearing up ahead and you can spy the cave entrance from where you’ve paused for a bit. You’re straining your neck to see if you can make out her figure as well - you know she’s home, she has to be. Nothing much to do with your day when you're a free gem hiding away in the darkness, all alone. When you can’t spot her, you simply strut forward - you’re pretty sure she’s already aware of your presence, anyway. The clearing is weirdly silent when you step into the ring formed out of mowed down stumps and receding grass, only silence greeting you. Just where is she? Is she still scouting you out, trying to see what you’re up to? No matter. Your stomach is too queasy not to break the tension. You just want to be over with this and go back to your apartment.
“Hello? Jasper-”, you call out, only to be interrupted by thud behind you. Of course. You should have known that she was already one step ahead of you. You turn around slowly, hands already raised in defense. She’s huge. Peridot hadn’t been wrong when she called her the perfect quartz - she towers over you with ease, thick arms crossed defensively in front of her chest. She looks at you like one would at a disgusting bug they just found squirming around, one eyebrow quirked up while she glowers down at you. Your mouth feels unusually dry when she pins you down with a simple glare and you’re reminded of the power imbalance between the two of you. Unlike the other quartzes, she doesn’t exude that laissez-faire attitude, that friendly openness. Other soldier gems, although intimidating in stature, are usually friendly and eager to make friends. One look at her yellow eyes and you know she very much isn’t. “Earthling”, she spits out in disgust and- disappointment. “Yeah, that’s me”, you say and cringe at your own voice. You sound like a total idiot who is trying to impress the popular kids at school. “I came here to talk about something.” She clearly isn’t amused. You give her another sheepy grin and hastily fold open one of the pamphlets, already trying to form the perfect sentence to get her to consider your little missionary deed. “You see, this is about Little Homeworld”, you start, but she rolls her eyes and pulls a disgusted face. “Please, at least listen to me?”, you squeak out, having lost all of your confidence with one simple twitch of her mouth. You figure she hasn’t punched you yet - she might not do it at all if you’re careful. Jasper narrows her eyes for a moment, searching your face for something before she scoffs again in realization.
“He set you up to this”, she says, looking right through your charade. You shrink into yourself at her steely gaze, a bit ashamed to be found out that easily. “Ah, well-”, you stutter, trying to find the right words. “Not entirely, I did agree to this-” She rolls her eyes at that. “Leave or I’ll make you regret it”, she huffs out, already turning to go back to her cave. “Please, at least consider it! Everyone put so much work into Little Homeschool-”, you press out before you get interrupted by her whipping her head around.
"I said leave!", she bellows, her tone suddenly angry. “I don’t have the time to listen to the begging of some puny earthling.” Maybe it’s the heat that is melting your brain, maybe it’s the thought of disappointing Steven - it doesn’t matter what it is, your feet move forward on their own for a few steps, a tiny call of “Wait!” tearing itself from your lips before you can process your actions. The air immediately shifts into something else. It’s prickly and instantaneous, heavy like the shift in pressure moments before thunder. You have half a mind to stagger backwards, but it’s too late. She charges forward faster than you can react, eyes wide and angry. Your mind screams at you to run but you can’t - never have you seen so much anger in someone’s face and never directed at you. The fist to your jaw catches you off-guard and you stumble back, immediately rubbing your mandible where she caught you. “Fuck-”, you cry out, but she only gives you another second to recover before she uses your open torso to her advantage. One hit turns into two and two into three- she pushes you around with sheer force alone and you can barely react because of her speed. The world is a blur of pain, adrenaline ringing in your ears. You’ve never been beaten up before and she is relentless, no plea or excuse making her falter. Instead, your panicked cries for her to stop seem to spur her on, seem to heighten her rage at you. “You can’t even fight back, weakling”, she sneers with her fist in your face. “Come on! Didn’t you want to talk?” Before you can utter one more pathetic word of defiance, she raises her arm again and brings it down on your jaw, smack dab in the middle of your mouth, right under your nose. Your bone creaks in protest, the sound unlike anything you’ve ever heard before. You can feel something break. The pain ripples through you like an electric shock and you sputter in surprise, spit and blood and something sharp flying off your tongue. Your mouth pulsates as you press your hand to your lips, a futile attempt at soothing yourself. The sensitive skin prickles against something jagged and you push your tongue forward out of reflex, a weird, unknown panic suddenly taking root. Did she- did she break your teeth? You can’t help the tears that rush in as you mutter- no, lisp - a string of no, no, nos to yourself. Oddly enough it’s just like one of these weird nightmares come true, but that thought slips away with reality of the situation.
Everything else is replaceable, could be mended, could heal- but not your teeth, your precious front teeth that are now reduced to nothing but bloodied stumps, the healthy pulps bleeding into your mouth until your saliva is thick with blood. Your reaction seems to entertain her enough to stop her abuse for the moment, but the relief of that fades quickly as your head spins with the terrible realization - it’s like the world is suddenly muted as you cradle your mouth in your hand, your head heavy with panic. Everything slowly fades out of existence as the only thing you suddenly know is your breathing and the louder and louder growing hiss in your ears- white stars flit over your vision and- The world topples.
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You feel before you see. You’re sprawled out on the hard, dusty ground, cold sweat pooling beneath your shirt, arms and face and chest hurting from her fists. Something is pressed into your stomach, something so dense it pushes itself uncomfortably into the fat of your belly. Birds shriek around you in excitement as they flap their wings skywards and you can’t help but groan at the unnaturally loud sound. “Earthling.” Your eyes snap open. Above you, a hulking mass of orange and cream blocks the sun, its light spilling around the rugged edges of- Jasper. And with that the momentary peace is broken. You immediately scramble to get up, to get away from her, but you can’t - she has you pinned underneath her foot, the pressure on your stomach increasing until it genuinely hurts. “And here I thought we were done”, she spits out, eyeing you with nothing but contempt as you wriggle underneath her like a pathetic little insect. “Please-”, you lisp, tongue scraping over the ruins of your incisors with the ‘s’ sound.”Let me go- You beat me, you won.” She leans closer to you, eyes sharp and mean. Although you aren’t a real challenge, a real fight, she doesn’t seem to have enough, not yet. “Weakling.” “You’re so soft”, she lowers her face closer to you, “so round, so pathetic.” You watch in horror as she lifts up her foot from your stomach and slowly drags it down to your crotch, planting herself right on top of your cunt with a thud. It hurts and your legs close around her leg out of reflex, muscles hardening themselves to take your mind off the pain.
“Oh-”, you choke out, shoving your hands down to protect yourself. “Please- not there- Anywhere else-” You receive a swift kick in response.  "That's your weak spot?", she says and smiles- no, bares her teeth at you- while she watches you writhing on the ground in agony, blood running down your shirt and eyes red with tears. “Please-” Another kick, another cry from you. She considers your pain and your helplessness, towering above you like some dark herald as you gasp and sob underneath her, too tired to fight back now. There is something peculiar in her eyes - not unlike the curiosity of a cat toying with its meal. You stare at each other for a single heartbeat, then- Within a second, her foot is gone from your body and she is all over you, tearing at your hair and clothing. Grunts and tiny sounds of disapproval fall from her lips as neither your shirt nor bra underneath it yield, her impatient hands traveling downwards instead. She hooks her fingers into the waistband of your pants and you can only watch in horror as she rips them in half with sheer force. She doesn’t even give you the grace of taking them off, your ruined zipper and half-opened crotch are shoved just underneath your ass, barely enough space to give her access. Your panties follow with a snap of elastic and cotton, the fabric flimsy enough to be tossed aside. No amount of squirming and choked cries are enough to make her stop - she seems to be in some kind of stupor, those sharp eyes full of something vicious and nasty. Rough hands dig into the fat of your hips, strong enough to bruise and strong enough pinch your skin against bone as she turns you over. She rattles you around like you weigh nothing, and with arms like hers you can believe it. Face shoved into the dirt and ass up in the air, your teeth pulse as blood rushes into your head, the feeling dizzying and disorientating. It hurts and you can’t help the tiny groans of pain that slip through your busted lips. The feeling is strange and increases with each heartbeat, the blood in your head so heavy it feels like your cheeks twitch. A hand on your cunt pulls you out of the haze. You aren’t stupid. You know how this will end, knew it from the moment she had torn off your hiking shorts. But the way her hand curls around your crotch is still a shock to your system, enough for you to lurch forward- but your weak arms can only grasp air and not dirt as she easily swoops her left arm under your chest to hold you just above the ground. It’s humiliating; scooped up like an animal, exposed, the tattered scraps of your shorts still hanging somewhere around your knees. You can’t even make a run for it if you wanted to. She can do with you as she pleases- You whimper at the thought- and she laughs. It’s low and rough, an ugly sound that makes your skin prickle in fear. “Pathetic appearance modifiers.” She sets you down again, but pointedly keeps one burly hand on your back, pushing you down. Her fingers grope and pinch the fat of your ass, inspecting your organic matter. It stings but you bear it, even as she presses down to the bone. She probes and slaps and squeezes you again and again until your skin is numb and hot. Seconds feel like hours as you tremble in her grasp, nerves sharp with pain, waiting for her to go further down, waiting for her brash hands to abuse your cunt with the same fervor. It’s inevitable and the thought kills you inside. Ever so slowly she inches her way down to where your pussy is painfully exposed- at first her touch only tickles, deceptively careful. Then she reaches between your labia, grabs one pair tightly- before you can blink there’s a thumb shoved into you, and she pulls. It burns, especially with the sudden movement, and you cry out. Another laugh sounds behind you, deep and amused. “There it is.”
At this point you aren’t sure if she’s playing dumb on purpose or if she truly doesn’t know what she’s doing to your cunt. She has spent the last two years in isolation, but she’s hundreds of years older than you- there is the faint possibility of her being aware of organic reproduction. There is no use in dwelling on it, not when her thumb suddenly jerks within you. You squeal at the sensation, but she ignores you. Another back and forth motion until she finally withdraws, much too fast. Any word of protest falls on deaf ears as she delves back into you with her digits, no regard for how little fluid there is to aid her. Her fingers are too thick. You’re nowhere close to being prepared to take her, but she splits you open with two of them, forcing herself into you with so much power you have to brace yourself against the dusty, lifeless ground. It hurts unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, a dry burn deep within you. It’s agony in its plainest form and you grunt and grind your teeth to alleviate it at least a little bit. It doesn’t help much. When she bottoms out you feel like you’re about to throw up, nausea climbing up your throat with every heartbeat, two of her ungodly thick fingers rooted in you. Your walls clench around her, making it only worse for yourself. Then she starts moving. In and out and in again, the movement feels as though she’s turning your cunt inside out. It hurts so bad- the feeling is indescribable, almost like her fingers are scraping your insides raw with every little motion. She applies more and more pressure every time she dives in, clearly trying to pick up speed. It’s fruitless. You’re too dry and it only makes this more unbearable for you. Long gone are the tiny groans, now you’re crying hot tears into the floor, open-mouthed and shameless. There is only enduring this, the steady movement never ending. She is silent behind you, probably intently watching your torture. You can’t even form clear thoughts at this point, everything is just pain and heat and more pain again, the force of her fingers steadily building until it feels like she’s about to tear through your abdomen. Something snaps within you. It’s wet and hot and too much to be your natural lubrication. It doesn’t take you long to figure out what just happened - not when your bladder is now clenching at the rapid movement of her fingers. You just pissed yourself. Pissed on the ground, on all fours like a dog. Because your bladder couldn’t withstand the pressure of her fingers drilling in and out of you, because she used enough force to make you wet yourself. It pools beneath your knees, a miserable, hot little puddle of amber liquid. The scent hangs heavy in the air around you two, the unmistakably sharp scent of urine heightened by the heat of the sun. She doesn’t even acknowledge it, no, she uses the little lubrication it provides to fuck you in earnest now, her fingers hammering in and out of you.  Sniffling into the sweat-soaked ground, you give up. The skin of your legs rapidly cools with your filth on top of it, and you let yourself be rattled around by her, feeling nothing but a hollow sting in your heart. Not even the telltale twinge of your building orgasm can shake you, your eyes are simply transfixed on the treeline, your head full of soft static. It’s almost blissful when you finally cum, nothing but a soft groan leaving your lips. You’re so numb you can’t even protest as she keeps fingering you through it. When she finally withdraws, you don’t bat an eye. Still in that same ass up, face down position, you weakly glance at her towering silhouette, her face somewhat calm now. Whatever it is that broke the spell for her, you’re grateful for it.
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an-army-of-nightmares · 3 years ago
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Porcelain Jekyll au
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This is gonna be long so heres a tldr
TLDR: Jekyll gets taken to a sort of real nightmare party full of dolls, if he misbehaves they'll kill him and if he's a perfect gentleman he'll turn into a doll. There's a branch where he's rescued and two where he turns into a doll
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•The au starts with Jekyll going to sleep, timeline honestly doesn't matter as long as Frankenstein, Jasper, and Jekyll are all around. Could start where tgs currently is? But Jasper doesn't accidentally wake Jekyll up in his panic
•"The Party of Dolls" is basically a supernatural nightmare? I haven't found a better explanation but basically it's a nightmare that's real and happening, while still "just" being a nightmare. It takes you to like a different dimension while you sleep basically? (The party of dolls isn't the only one but that's not relevant)
•The dolls invite specific people, they invite people who want to be perfect. People who dont want anyone to hate them or find a flaw. Jekyll fits this perfectly
•Jekyll is taken to the party. He tries to be polite despite being unnerved. There's another human at the party, he doesn't learn the man's name before the man gets ripped apart by the dolls for shouting
The dolls target specific people, but they can still take "fodder", people they know will immediately break the rules. So that their actual guests can learn what happens if they are impolite. The dolls also surround guest on all sides, and have them in the exact middle, so that the guest cannot just run out
•Jekyll is terrified, now knowing he'll die if he does something wrong, he tries his best to be perfect
•Unknown to Jekyll, if he's "perfect" he'll start turning into a doll. Ultimately it's a die or die situation
•Jekyll does start to notice the porcelain creeping up him, its be hard not to. He is very much (silently) panicking. But,, the more porcelain on him the more calm he becomes, the more he acts as if this is a simple party and nothing is wrong
•Eventually he reaches a point where he'd actively resist being taken away from the party, but still not fully covered by porcelain
A quick note, Hyde can't do anything about the situation. He wasn't invited and the dolls are suppressing him so much he can hardly even tell what's happening, or leave the mindscape. He's absolutely terrified about this because he can Feel something is wrong and everything is just becoming more and more suffocating
Now onto the branches! There are 2 and a half branches for this au!
Branch 1: Jekyll gets rescued
(Assuming this takes place at Chapter 11 Page 8)
•Jekyll is asleep on the couch, Jasper rushes in the room like his panic on the page except this time Jekyll does not wake up at Jasper's sudden entry. Jasper, noticing Jekyll is asleep, silently contemplates on if this problem is really worth waking Jekyll. Because on the one hand he's probably overreacting in his mind, but on the other Jekyll is really the only person he can panic to?
•He decides not to wake Jekyll, and wait until it's properly morning or noon?, now that the panic is a bit subdued he probably still has stuff to ask Jekyll
•He goes up to find Jekyll is still asleep, and Zosi frantically pawing at Jekyll's chest, occasionally nibbling him, and seemingly really wants to wake Jekyll up. Jasper tries to wake him up but it seems no matter how hard he tries Jekyll stays asleep
•Seeing how Lanyon probably isn't in the Society at the moment (and besides Jasper is pretty sure Robert dislikes him) and he's currently avoiding Rachel. Jasper cant ask Jekyll's friends if this is normal behavior. Why doesn't he ask the lodgers? Maybe a combination of they all seem busy and still being a bit intimidated by them? So he goes to his last best bet, Frankenstein. She's, kinda a doctor and has traveled quite a bit, so she may know whats up with Jekyll and why Zosi is panicking
Note: This whole decision happens in like a few seconds while Jasper is panicking
•Frankenstein does not ease Jasper's worries
•Ah, I guess there has to be some sort of tell, something that makes it clear someone is in one of these "supernatural nightmares" and that Jekyll is specifically in the party of dolls. Idk yet what that tell would be. But Frankenstein knows and thats all that matters
•They take Jekyll back to the attic, lock the entry, and make preparations for a rescue mission
•Frankenstein will be going in to try and distract the dolls while Jasper will be looking for Jekyll. Creature is there as plan B in case the dolls get hostile towards them (as Creature is fully capable of lifting them all up and running out of there. And the dolls are very likely to get hostile towards them)
•They get in, how? I have no clue. But they do. Probably a potion?
•Jasper quickly finds Jekyll and tries to convince him to leave. Much to Jasper's concern, Jekyll doesn't want to leave, and keeps brushing the danger off
Frankenstein and Jasper dont know much about the nightmare. Its likely all they know is that its filled with dolls and people who are "invited" are never seen again/found dead
•Frankenstein's distraction consists of pointing out flaws in how the dolls act. The dolls keep finding excuses, but eventually become agitated with her
•Japser notices the porcelain on Jekyll and loudly panics, attracting the already agitated dolls attention
•Creature picks them all up and runs towards the doors. Jekyll is greatly struggling against this rescue attempt, but once they get out of the building and onto the stretch of yard before the exit Jekyll calms down significantly
Jekyll did not actually calm down, but rather Hyde managed to weasel control after they left the building. Hyde absolutely does not want to be at this party, and Jekyll's struggling could've jeopardized the rescue
•They get back! Whatever porcelain was on Jekyll falls off him with ease. He's angry for maybe half a day or more. But when the doll's control completely leaves him, he's nothing but relieved
Sidenote: It seems reasonable that this whole experience would leave Jekyll with a fear of going to sleep. Perhaps give him something that can deter these types of nightmares? A desire for the comfort of another person, at least in the room, while he's asleep?
Branch 2: Jekyll fully turns into a doll
•Well either Jekyll went to sleep at his own home or some place where no one would think to look for him, as if he was right in the society they'd certainly take notice that something is wrong
•Jekyll fully turns to porcelain. Once he's a full doll they give him new clothes (the sand/beige colored suit I tend to draw porcelain Jekyll in)
Previously, Jekyll had been wearing the suit he wears at any formal party, like the ball in An Army Of Nightmares
•Porcelain Jekyll gets back to the real world. This is not entirely out of the ordinary for the dolls to do. If a guest was reasonably young or famous they'll be returned once a doll, to make themselves more known or respectable before they "die" and go back to the party full time
•Zosi notices something is Wrong while Jekyll is asleep and tries to wake him up to no avail, Zosi can't bark for attention and he's scared of leaving Jekyll alone, the few times he does go out to find someone he's largely ignored or avoided, or they misinterpret what the zombie pup wants. When Jekyll does wake up, Zosi immediately notices that it's not Jekyll, at least not anymore. Zosi knows he's supposed to get rid of any evil creatures, but this was once Jekyll. So the pup runs away and avoids him instead
•ooo I dont want to describe this whole branch? This has already taken way longer for me to write then I want XD, just check out this reblog chain about it bsksndks
Branch 2 ½: Jekyll dies
•Jekyll fully turns into a doll, however instead of entering the real world his real body simply dies. He's found rotting in bed. "Jekyll" however, is still in the party. (Fun fact, this was the original plan for the au)
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Extra notes:
▪All the dolls in the party were once people, except for maybe one or two? A handful? But it has long since been lost who's who. And it never mattered
▪Lanyon would not have ever been invited to the party. He doesn't seem to want to be a gentleman, and he knows too much about etiquette to be fodder either
▪Jasper is a proper candidate to be invited, and in branch 2 "Jekyll" is giving him alot more lessons on how to be a proper gentleman, planning to invite Jasper to the party at some point
▪The party always has a host that they cycle though, the host talks to guests a bit more than everyone else
▪Porcelain Jekyll gets to keep his new clothes when returning to the real world
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pine-lark · 3 years ago
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Ooh trap him somewhere either very hot or very cold?? :D
Oh.
Oh.
This is a perfect excuse to write an old daydream from my childhood. Well, there's two-- Arion on a grill and Arion in a box. I chose the box for this one but I may be tempted to write the grill at some point. I haven't written The Box before now because it doesn't exactly... fit with the plot of the actual story, but I mean...
Alternate Rescue AU, coming right up, Anon. (Also sorry I'm like, infinitely late haha. School threw me into a hell pit and I've been recovering. I'm back now ((though I'm not sure for how long, things might change in a week or two... we'll see.)) For now, I'm working on a lot of Arion stuff that will hopefully pop up within a few days! Cheers!)
CW: Tiny whumpee, some blood, cold/hypothermia symptoms (duh), cages/referenced captivity, briefly implied forced nudity from said captivity, brief reference to a past fever and resulting vomiting, referenced/implied physical abuse, water/rain/storms/being submerged in/splashed with water, thoughts of dying (of the "I might die" and "Am I dead?" and wishing to be put out of misery type), crying, (thinking about) needles, short (kind of) graphic description of a bird being run over, brief religion references
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His legs still ache from running.
Arion sits in the cardboard box he found on the side of the road, huddled in the corner, shivering in the dark. Although he tries to clamp his jaw shut and stop it, his teeth chatter and his shoulders quiver. It feels like the frozen autumn air has grasped him entirely in icy claws that shake him violently in an inescapable grip. It reminds him of being trapped in Heston’s hand, shaken, body tossed in every direction until his head pounded and his eyes watered.
It’s colder outside than it used to be in the garage. But it’s better out here. No one can hurt him here.
As long as they don’t find him.
He rubs his hands over the goosebumps on his arms, hoping to warm them up and calm down the wild pain buried deep in his skin. As he does so, blood smears along the path he touches. It’s still gently creeping out of the series of cuts etched into his forearms. With it, the image of Heston’s glinting eyes surfaces in Arion’s memory. He buries his head in his shaking knees with a wet sniff. But he’s done it, he reminds himself. He’s escaped. Finally. Chewed through rope, slipped through an unlocked door. Heston's gone. For now.
Please, please don’t come looking for me.
A dog barks somewhere in the distance. He jumps. It sets off an echo of shivers all the way down his spine as his hair stands on end.
A raindrop falls on the cardboard roof. Then another, and another. Thunder claps harshly overhead.
Arion shuts his eyes tight, bites back the frustrated tears welling up at the corners of his eyes. He curls up tighter, hugging himself, doing all he can to keep any scrap of heat he has close to his body. A storm might just do it. Might just kill him. A storm means wind. Freezing wind. And freezing rain. The last thing he needs right now is rain. It can’t rain. He presses his body closer to the cardboard wall, knowing it might not be standing there much longer if it rains.
And it does. It pours.
He sees the rain splash into the road before him. The storm swiftly grows. It’s ferocious and feral and cruel. The temperature around Arion drops. His tiny body shakes uncontrollably, as if it weren’t his own. It reminds him of the terrifying fever he had, long ago, in the confines of his red cage just weeks after being taken from his home. He’d been throwing up and twitching and having the most horrible, vivid dreams (on the occasions that both Heston and the illness let him sleep). The fits of shivering drove him mad, the endless teeth-chattering and flashes of uncomfortable warmth and sticky sweat made him feel even worse. It's like that, he thinks. Except, now, as he shivers, he’s unbearably cold.
An involuntary whine fights its way out of him. When he swallows, his throat feels stiff and achy. Snot runs profusely down his lips and no amount of wiping it away with his bleeding arms is helping it slow. Water has thoroughly and entirely drenched the cardboard, at this point. Has crept through the floor and the walls, and, gradually and persistently, has started to drip through the sagging ceiling. For a moment, Arion remembers he has toes, and that they’ve been numb for awhile now. Actually, now that he’s thinking about it, his feet haven’t felt like anything either, and when he tries to move his fingers, they only twitch. They feel heavy and prickly. He feels prickly all over. Like Heston had shoved a thousand frozen needles into a thousand different places all over his body. It hurts to breathe. There’s no way to get warmer. Nothing to hide under, not even something as decent as clothing. No way to escape, nowhere to run to, even if he had the energy left to try. He lets out a miserable sob.
And then the ceiling falls through, in a blur of collapsing cardboard and splashing waves of water that crash over his head and the rest of his body.
Arion tumbles out of the box, drenched. He coughs up water through jittery movements. For a second, he chokes on a mouthful, and he briefly he thinks he'll never breathe again, before his chest jerks and with another cough, the water falls out of his mouth. He tries to get his arms and legs under him, to stand or even crawl, but his limbs fail him and he crumbles face-first back to the harsh surface below him. The rocks mixed in the road’s tar are sharp. They cut deeply through his nose and cheek and the shoulder that followed his face in the fall. Arion winces against the fresh, sharp pain and the beads of blood that begin to form where he’s been hurt. His breaths come in ragged heaves.
He sniffs. Tears drip from his eyes. He lays helpless in the middle of the little road, in his mind begging to no one that a car doesn’t come along and crush him. Under any other circumstance, he’d love to be put out of his misery. But he’s seen a bird been run over before. Under a truck’s tire. And the memory makes his stomach churn. Flattened face, open stomach, popped like a bubble in a stream.
Briefly, Arion thinks of himself in place of the bird. He thinks of the smear of red underneath his empty, open eyes. He thinks of the way the headlights might look as they would suddenly appear right in front of him. The horrid, mind-numbing honk of a horn. The image he creates in his mind of those headlights, his last moments, is vivid. It’s so vivid that he thinks it might be real, or maybe hypothermia is setting in and beginning to ruin his mind.
It’s just his imagination, he thinks.
And then he smells exhaust from a car.
And the screech of brakes.
And for a second, whilst his body is numb and bright white light is all he can see, he thinks he might be dead.
“I swear, if I keep stopping my car for every mouse that sits in front of it, I’m never going to get anywhere.”
That voice drifts from the car stopped in front of him.
Not dead, then.
Almost, he thinks.
“Can’t help it though. What else am I supposed to do, run them over? Just vet instincts, I guess. Huh, Jasper.” There’s a meow in response. Arion’s breath hitches. The voice says, “Me-ow. I know, I know. I’ll be right back.” A car door shuts. Then there’s heavy wet footsteps. Boots clopping over puddles and asphalt. Panic floods Arion’s chest as a shadow cuts through the blinding white light from the vehicle. The outline of a human lowers, kneels in front of him. His breath stops. His mind goes blank.
“What…”
A moment passes. Something touches him. He flinches hard, but trying to run isn’t an option. His body is completely, entirely, wholly exhausted and far too numb to move more than flailing back a couple inches.
“Oh, geez, that’s-- not a mouse. Okay.” Her head turns in a way that Arion can see her face. A young woman with red hair, watching him with a warm but frantic gaze. “Okay. Okay okay. Oh, God, you’re injured pretty bad, little buddy. Your arms are all… cut up. That’s not good. Um.”
Arion stares blankly ahead. Suddenly, freezing to death isn’t something he feels like putting too much effort into avoiding.
“Okay. Here’s what we’ll do,” the girl continues. “I’m gonna bring you into my car where I can see you better, alright? Then I can help you. It’s gonna be okay. Here. I’m picking you up now, ‘kay?”
The feeling of a warm hand washes over his body. It’s both terrifying and incredibly welcome. The sting of cold seems to seep out of his skin, albeit very slowly. Quickly, though, burning prickles replace whatever comfort the touch brought him.
“Oh, you’re freezing, little guy. You must have been out here for a long time. That can be really dangerous… I’m glad I found you. I’ll get you all warmed up in the car.”
Arion whimpers against the hands that carry him to somewhere warmer, where he hears the faint, deep sound of a large beating heart. For a second, he wonders if this is God. And then the car door opens and creaks, and the girl curses under her breath, and Arion remembers he’s an atheist.
Still, as the stinging in his warming skin subsides, the warmth of her hands starts to feel… nice. If his mind were still intact (instead of shattered into vague, useless fragments as it is now), Arion would have done anything and everything to get away from any human or other predatory beast in sight. But with his head swimming, he leans into her touch, and compliantly accepts the soft feeling of some kind of cloth being wrapped all around him.
Words are spoken to him, but he can’t listen. To him they sound broken up and blurry as the insistence of sleep becomes more desperate in the back of his mind. As he gets warmer, his muscles relax, and his eyes get droopy. His vision darkens, and the girl’s voice hushes.
Just before he drifts off into a far overdue, deep and restful sleep, he thinks to himself, vaguely, that he hopes this human is different. He hopes that when he wakes back up, it won’t be in another cage.
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Tag list because this ended up being a full drabble:
(Also, let me know if you'd like to be removed from the tag list. No hurt feelings! I know it's been a long time and if you've lost interest that is A-Okay, friend)
(Also, if you'd like to be added or if your username's changed, let me know!)
@whumping-every-day, @deluxewhump, @sola-whumping, @haro-whumps, @inaridriscoll, @whatwasmyprevioususername, @kiretto-laorentze, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @ahorriblebimess, @whump-me-all-night-long
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vampiregirl1797 · 5 years ago
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A Lunchtime Observation
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Jasper Hale x Reader
 GIF Not Mine.
 Summary: This is basically just complete fluff from Bella’s third person point of view, because there just isn’t enough fuzz for Jasper.
 Warnings: None—unless fluff requires a warning.
 Word Count: 1,120—shortest one I’ve ever done!
 Click Here For My Masterlist.
 ‘Who are they?’ Bella asked, her eyes landing on those sat around the table by the back wall.
 She couldn’t help but be taken aback by their unbelievable beauty. A part of her wondered if she was dreaming and the god like people sitting in front of the single pane windows were actually a by-product of her imagination. But she brushed that off quickly—there was no way that she was creative enough to imagine such magnificence.
 ‘Oh, those are Dr. Cullen’s foster kids. Him and his wife adopted them.’ The bubbly girl, Jessica, told Bella immediately—she was never one to sit back and let others relay the gossip, ‘the two blonde ones are Rosalie and Jasper Hale; they’re twins and were adopted when they were eight. The one with the Bronze hair is Edward, don’t even bother with that one—no one here is good enough for him. The curly haired one is Emmett, he’s with Rosalie, and the other girl is Alice. There is actually another Cullen whose with her but he mustn’t be in today, maybe he’s sick—his name’s Elijah.’
 Bella didn’t look away from the family as Jessica spoke, her eyes simply flitted from person to person, matching each one up with the names the bubbly girl provided. She noticed how they all seemed to gravitate towards each other, as if no one else beyond their table existed and they had the room to themselves. Rosalie and Emmett were sat close together, his arm around her shoulders while his free hand played with strands of her golden hair. The curly haired boy was big and brawny, and Bella thought if he didn’t have that big, goofy smile on his face he would look terrifying. Alice was sat closer to…Edward—it took her a moment to remember his name—giving him a big smile while the boy frowned at her, Bella wondered if she were teasing him about something, but obviously she couldn’t hear. Jasper was sat opposite Edward and if it weren’t for the glances he shared with his adopted siblings, Bella would have thought him unwelcome at the table. He was sat a whole seat away from Rosalie and Emmett who had their backs to the windows, and three seats existed between him and Alice as she was sat beside Edward at the opposite end, with her back to the cafeteria. But he didn’t look uncomfortable or like he minded the distance. He looks like he is waiting for something Bella realised, and she didn’t have time to wonder what as the blonde haired boy’s head snapped up as if he sensed someone’s presence.
 A bright, soft smile fell over the Hale’s face as another girl approached their table. Bella thought an outsider might burst the impenetrable bubble that seemed to exist around the family, but she didn’t. She merely stepped through and took the seat on Jaspers left, closing the distance from Alice to two seats from three. The girl’s hand entwined with the blonde’s, her smile just as soft as she leaned forward and kissed him. Bella could see the love between the pair, different from the affection shared between the other couple at their table. Their love seemed more…intense.
 She couldn’t help but notice the difference between the duo. While the girl who’d approached was certainly beautiful, she couldn’t compare to the incomprehensible beauty that the Cullen’s and Hale’s possessed. But he looked at her as if she were the most beautiful girl in the world, as if she were the only girl he saw. His dark eyes shone with such wonder and adoration that she returned just as intensely. It made Bella feel like she should look away, as if she was intruding on a private moment, but she couldn’t get her body to respond.
 The girl said something to him and his lips lifted over his teeth as he grinned, pulling her closer until the sides of their bodies were completely pressed together. She blushed and his fingers lightly caressed over the redness on her cheeks, his eyes shining with adoration and a hint of another emotion Bella couldn’t put her finger on.
 ‘Whose that, sitting with Jasper?’ the wavy haired brunette wondered, still not having the will to look away from them.
 ‘Oh that’s Y/N. She and Jasper have been dating since freshman year. No one really knows how it happened. They moved here and a few months later they were walking around holding hands. Y/N doesn’t really have any other friends besides them so, none of us know the story.’ Jessica sounded disappointed and Bella was surprised to feel a little dejected herself—she thought their story would be the kind that rarely existed outside of the movies, the one of a kind of love that lasted forever, and she found herself dismayed at being unable to confirm it.
 Just as Jessica finished speaking Bella could have sworn Jasper glanced over in their direction for a second, but it happened too fast for her to be sure or for her to react and duck away in embarrassment. The blonde murmured something to his girlfriend and she responded by throwing her head back, a laugh loud enough to be heard where Bella was sitting leaving her lips. Jasper watched her, his lips twisted into an amused grin, but his dark eyes observed her with wonder and awe. When she recovered, she kissed the back of his hand—the one still entwined with his—and seemed to say something against his skin. Bella watched, as the blonde appeared bashful for a moment, before she kissed his hand again and his modesty melted into a softer expression.
  Bella had seen plenty of couples interact throughout her life, but she had never seen two people behave the way they did. They radiated their love without being aware of it, they gazed at each other as if no one or nothing else mattered outside of the separate bubble they seemed to be encased in, and they reached for each other at the same time, as if their bodies as well as their minds, were perfectly harmonised. Bella was confident that there wasn’t one person in the room who could observe the way they looked at each other and say they weren’t perfect together. Bella wondered if she were being premature in her conclusions, but her heart overruled her head on this one and she knew she wasn’t. For the first time in her young life, Bella wondered if there were such a thing as soulmates, and her heart fluttered as if to assure her there was—the proof was right in front of her. Who was she to argue with that?
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clouditae · 4 years ago
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First Love | 07
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Yoongi x reader | 18+ | college au | tattoo artist au | angst | fluff | swearing
Word: 2.1k
You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi
Chapter Index
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The car ride is awkward for you. Hoseok and Ari are chatting away while you and Yoongi sit in the back in complete silence. This is not what you expected, but it seems that Ari has something else in mind and drags Hoseok along, waiting for who knows how long until the two of you left the shelter. You open your bag, pulling out your camera. Turning it on, and going to your pictures, you begin to browse through all the photos you took today.
“Did they come out good?” Yoongi asks, voice just loud enough for you to hear. 
You look to him, surprised that he’s interested, but his eyes are on your camera. Trying to see how the pictures came out. “Yeah. I got some good ones,” you tell him, showing the screen as you browse through the pictures together. The two of you browse through the photos you took. The photos you took capture the moments of joy for the animals. When they played with Rory, when the dogs ran around the fenced area, not wanting to go inside. Even when Charlie came up to you, sniffing the camera; you got a perfect picture of his big brown eyes and the round of his snout. You then reach the photos of Jasper, you’re clearly aware of Yoongi leaning in close to you. When you reach the photos, you try your best to not linger on the photos of Yoongi and Jasper. 
“Wait,” Yoongi murmurs, and you stop, glancing at him. “Go back.” You click back to the previous photo of Yoongi petting Jasper. “Can you send me that one?” he asks, finally meeting your gaze.
You’re fully aware as to how close the two of you have gotten. Swallowing hard, you reply with a small voice, “Yeah.” 
“We’re here,” Hoseok bellows, making you jump away from Yoongi. 
Turning off your camera, you look out the window to see a building with blue shingles, a big sign running along the wall, and a jukebox like entrance, with different colors. “Mary Ann’s?” Ari asks as Hoseok pulls into a parking space. 
“Yeah,” Hoseok beams, putting the car in park and turning the engine off. “I heard this place is great. Great burgers; amazing shakes. Plus, everything inside is a 50s theme.” He exits the car, giving the three of you no time to say anything. As you close the door, Hoseok is already reaching for Ari’s hand. “I’ve always wanted to go on a double date—or I guess date and two friends tagging along,” he corrects, smiling sheepishly at you. 
“Well I for sure am hungry. Let’s go,” Ari exclaims, walking with Hoseok towards the building, but not before grabbing your hand and dragging you along. You stumble a bit until you finally match her pace, looking both ways to make sure no car is going to hit you since Ari didn’t even bother looking. 
Entering through the blue pastel double doors, you’re immediately hit with the smell of burgers and a song you don’t know but can tell the singer is Elvis Presley. The inside of the diner is your typical diner; booths to the left and right, a counter running along the middle with stools, and a waitress or two wearing blue dresses with their hair up in a bun. The floor is checkered, walls pink with photos of people you recognize and don’t while the seating is blue. You’re pretty sure if you look up a 50s diner, this is it. Hoseok, who is still holding Ari’s hand, who is still holding yours, drags the two of you past several booths occupied by people before finding a booth at the end.
Ari lets your hand go, gesturing with her head to enter the booth. As you get in, expecting Ari to sit next to you, you’re shocked to see her sitting across from you. You shoot daggers at her as she smirks in response as Hoseok occupies the seat next to her and Yoongi slides into the booth next to you. You look to the side, staring at the photos on the wall, only recognizing the photo of the cast from I Love Lucy. Your dad would always drag you into the living room to watch it with him. 
“It’s a family thing,” he would tell you every time you would question him. 
“Welcome to Mary Ann’s,” a voice interrupts, placing four menus on the table as you look up at her. “My name is Irene. Can I get you started on something to drink?” Irene is wearing the blue dress like everyone else, a white apron tied around her waist, and a small white hat on top of her head. She’s pretty, and you can’t help but imagine her living in the 50s. As you all give her your order for drinks, she smiles, writing it down and leaving the four of you. 
“So what’s your project about, Y/N?” Hoseok asks, folding his arms on the table. 
You’re caught by surprise by his sudden question, but quickly recover and answer. “The project is to convince the audience to buy or participate in your project by capturing moments of what your project is about.” 
Irene appears with a tray full of drinks. She hands them out to you, tucking the tray under her arm as she pulls out her notepad and pen once again. “Would you like to order now or do you still need a few minutes?” she asks, eyes meeting yours briefly. You quickly glance at the menu, finding what looks the most appetizing as Hoseok and Ari agree to tell Irene their order. 
After everyone has said their order, Hoseok turns to you. “So your project is to convince people to adopt animals through pictures?”
You nod, taking a sip of your drink. “There are a lot of animals in the shelter that need homes. Especially the older ones.” 
Ari sighs. “I don’t like going to the shelter because all I want to do is take every animal home. My dad wants another dog, so maybe I can convince him to adopt one of the dogs here,” she says, tapping her chin in thought. 
“Is there a way to convince your dad to adopt an older dog?” you ask in a hopeful tone, sitting up straight. 
“An older dog?”
You nod quickly. “There’s an older dog named Jasper. He is such a sweet dog. He loves resting his head on your lap and sleeping.”
Ari laughs, “He’s just like my dad.” Pulling out her phone from her bag, she is typing away at her phone for a few seconds before she locks her phone and puts it back in her bag. “Knowing my dad, he’ll be out here on his day off to look at the animals. Which should be tomorrow or the day after.” She smiles. 
You can’t help but lean back in your seat in relief. Ari’s dad may take Jasper home and he can live the rest of his days in a happy home being loved and taken care of. He won’t be sad and alone when his time comes. You’ll have to send Ari’s dad a big basket of his favorite things if he takes Jasper home. 
“So,” Hoseok chimes in. “Ari and I were thinking about the four of us going camping during break.” The way he looks at both you and Yoongi tells you that he’s not going to take no for an answer. Hoseok seems dead set on getting the four of you to go together. One couple and one person who has major feelings for the other. This is bad.
“No,” Yoongi says blatantly. You turn to Yoongi completely shocked by how quickly he denies the request. 
“What’s your excuse?” Hoseok challenges, a daring look on his face. 
“I’ll be working most likely,” he states, grabbing his glass to take a drink. 
Hoseok sighs, “You can’t be stuck in the studio the entire week.” 
“It won't be the entire week. I’ll be in the shop from time to time, too.”
“How about this”—Hoseok adjusts himself in his seat, pointing a hand in Yoongi’s direction—“I help you with whatever you need if you’ll just come with us.” 
“I’ll probably—” 
Hoseok interrupts Yoongi, “Listen Mr. Producer, I’m gonna convince you no matter what. Every year you spend break either in the studio or shop. I get being in the shop, but I bet your boss will let you go on vacation.” 
Irene appears at the table with a tray of your food. She places your plate in front of you before plastering a smile and saying, “Enjoy.” 
You grab a fry, ready to dig in when Ari speaks up, “Are you going to come with us, Y/N?”
You look up to see both Ari and Hoseok staring at you. Lowering the fry from your mouth, you answer, “Yeah, I’ll go.” You can see the joy in Ari’s eyes and Hoseok’s smile grow. Your original plan is to stay in your dorm since your parents are going on their anniversary trip that week. You could have gone home and stayed there, but it seems like a waste of time when you have everything here. 
“We’ll have lots of fun,” Ari tells you, smiling as she takes a bite out of her burger. 
“What exactly is the plan?” you ask, finally taking a bit out of your food. God is it delicious. Everything about this burger is amazing. From the patty to everything they put on it. It feels like taking a bite out of heaven. 
“We rent out a cabin. Since there may be snow it’s best to just get a cabin so that we don’t die out there,” Ari explains. 
“How much will it be?” you can’t help but ask. You don’t have a nine to five job, and that only means saving up like there’s no tomorrow. 
“Oh don’t worry about that. A friend of mine owes me,” Hoseok tells you. 
Now you’re really curious. “How much are they usually?”
Hoseok stares at you for a moment before glancing away and clearing his throat. “A couple hundred per night,” he mutters, but you hear him loud and clear. 
“A couple—” Ari starts but can’t finish. You look at her. Clearly she didn’t know about this either based off of her shocked expression. “And he’s okay with this?”
Hoseok meets her eyes. “Yeah. He owes me big time.” 
“Did you save his life or something?” she asks, clearly not letting it go. 
Hoseok chuckles. “Not that drastic. I just saved him from failing class.” 
“That’s it?” you and Ari ask in unison, but she was louder than you. 
Hoseok smiles triumphantly. “That was the last class he needed to graduate.” 
It takes a while before Ari finally lets it go. For the rest of the dinner you eat in silence, listening to Ari and Hoseok talking to one another, then you, and Hoseok mainly talking to Yoongi and receiving a few words from him. You want to ask Yoongi questions about his major, but you don’t want to be ignored by him in front of Ari and Hoseok. From how protective Ari is about you, and how friendly Hoseok is, one of them will say something and the drive back will be awkward. 
Maybe you’re just blowing things out of proportion. Maybe you’re not. 
“Is there anything else I can get you guys? Desert?” Irene asks as she begins to grab the empty plates. 
“I want ice cream,” Yoongi requests, not even looking at any of you. 
“Guess we’ll have some shakes,” Hoseok says, suppressing a laugh most likely from Yoongi’s small request. 
After finishing your shake, letting Ari try yours and you trying hers, and paying for your dinner, the four of you leave the diner, making your way towards Hoseok’s car. You can’t deny that you enjoyed today. You finally start on your project, you surprisingly spent time with Yoongi without him questioning you or analyzing you openly, and you had a great dinner with your friends and Yoongi. 
By the time Hoseok drives into the parking lot of the dorms and finds a spot, it’s already past nine. Thankfully you have class at nine tomorrow so you can stay up late to get everything ready for your paper and presentation on your project. You follow Hoseok and Ari through the route towards your dorm from the outdoor stairway. 
Before you turn the corner to pass the staircase leading down to the rest of the dorm building and enter your hall, you feel a hand grab your arm. You turn around to meet eyes with Yoongi. Letting go of your arm, he says, “Meet me at the back parking lot Friday.” 
“O-okay,” you stutter. 
He nods in acknowledgement before walking past your and towards his room. You follow, feeling both happy and dreading meeting with him on Friday.
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bisexualbumblebee-writes · 3 years ago
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Puppy Jewelry- Jasper Badun x OC
Description: After a fight with Angela over a necklace, Jasper has to think about how to make it up to her. Luckily, there was a four legged animal there to aid him. 
Word Count: 1.6k
Note: The title sucks but I did my best
Today was just not Jasper’s day. Well, that may have been an understatement. This was just not Jasper’s week. He didn’t even know what started it all, but he was ready for the week to end. Cruella had been stressing out for the past month over an upcoming summer show, which meant that she was a lot snappier than usual. Horace hadn’t been much help, as usual he wasn’t understanding social cues so he didn’t know when to stop talking. That made Cruella snap at him more, to which Jasper defended him, which in turn would cause them to get in a small fight, makeup before the day ended, then repeat the next day. It was like a vicious cycle that made Jasper more irritated as the days went by and today it had all come to a head for something completely unrelated. 
“I’m back,” Jasper called as he walked into Hell Hall, Horace by his side. 
“About time,” Cruella grumbled as she walked over to them. “Do you have it?” She held out her hand expectantly, to which Jasper placed the handle of a bag in. 
“200 white pearl beads, just like you demanded,” he muttered. 
“Great,” Cruella chirped before her smile dropped. “Now move along.” She left no room for discussion before walking away to where the dressmakers were. Horace and Jasper watched her go, and the latter’s eyes narrowed a bit. 
“You’re welcome Cruella,” he grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Wasn’t like it was hard to get those or anything.” 
“Thank you boys,” a soft voice came from behind them, making the two turn around. Angela was walking towards them as she tied her sewing apron around her waist, suggesting that she had just come back from lunch. 
“I was the one who asked for them, I didn’t realize that they were hard to retrieve. I would’ve asked for something else if I had known,” she informed them apologetically. Her words made a smile form on Jasper’s face. At least she was grateful. 
“S’alright,” he brushed off. “We got them easily enough. Just promise you’ll make something pretty out of them.” 
“You have my word,” Angela giggled. Jasper nodded with a small laugh then perked up, digging in his pocket. 
“Oh hey, I got something for you while I was out,” he mentioned. Angela’s eyebrows knit together and she stared at him curiously, only to gasp when he pulled a diamond necklace out of his pocket. 
“I know you don’t like extravagant things, so I thought this one would do just nicely,” he explained, holding it up for her to see. The necklace itself wasn’t much, it was a gold chain with a diamond in the center of it, but it was the fact that he saw it and thought of her that made it sentimental. He was right, it was perfect.
“It’s gorgeous,” she said, awe in her tone. “Will you put it on me?”
“Of course.” He grinned as she turned around and moved her hair. He wrapped the chain around her neck then clasped it as carefully as he could. Once he was done Angela looked down at it before facing him with a toothy grin. 
“Thank you, Jasper,” she muttered, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Jasper returned the hug then kissed her cheek. 
“Anything for you.” Their sweet moment was interrupted by the socially unaware Horace. 
“Easiest grab we’ve ever done,” he added with a proud smile. Jasper felt Angela still in his arms, and he knew that Horace just said something he shouldn’t have. Angela slowly pulled away from her boyfriend and looked at their friend. 
“Grab?” She repeated. “You mean, like steal?” Horace nodded, none the wiser to the seriousness of her tone. 
“Yeah, it was just sitting out in the open in the shop. No cameras or anything,” he responded in the same proud tone. 
“Horace,” Jasper whisper-yelled, annoyed. “Zip it.” Horace stared at him confused, but Angela spoke before him. 
“You stole this necklace? Why would you do that?” She questioned firmly. Maybe Jasper spoke too soon about her being grateful. 
“Yeah,” Jasper responded as if it was nothing. “What’s the big deal?” He realized his mistake as soon as the question left his lips. Angela’s eyes widened at him. 
“Jasper!” She exclaimed. “You can’t just steal things and expect everything to be okay!” 
“It’s never done me wrong before,” the man defended, trying to keep his cool. “I don’t understand what the problem is, I did something nice for you.” 
“I appreciate that you got this for me, but I don’t want it if you’re just going to steal stuff like this for me,” she retorted. “I know that you got used to shoplifting in the past, but you have money now. It’s time to let the habit die because if you don’t you’ll end up in trouble with more than just me.” Jasper felt his anger boil over at her words.  
“Give it back then,” he demanded hotly. “If you’re going to complain about every little thing then maybe I just shouldn’t do nice things for you.” Angela stared at him surprised. 
“Jasper that’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“I don’t care. Give me back that stupid necklace. I’ll just give it to Cruella, at least she’ll appreciate it.” Angela’s jaw dropped and she felt herself tearing up from frustration. 
“Fine,” she snapped, then practically ripped the necklace off of her neck. She threw it at him, not caring when it just bounced off his chest. 
"I’m leaving,” she stated, marching over to the dressmaker's room to grab her bag. She called a bye to Cruella, Artie and Horace before leaving, not sparing even a glance at Jasper. It wasn’t until she was outside that she realized 1. She and Artie had taken a cab to get here and 2. It was bloody cold outside and she left her jacket in the house. However, her pride and stubbornness refused to let her go back so she lifted her chin and began walking home. 
It was a long walk home. The spring winds blew harshly against her and her lack of a warm coat was not helping in the slightest. The fact that she was also crying made it worse as her tears would become cold immediately and slide down her face. She took a hot bath upon arriving at her house in an attempt to warm up. During her bath she went over their entire fight, and she became upset once more. Even if she had gotten mad quickly, that didn’t mean that Jasper should’ve compared her to Cruella. Of course Cruella would’ve appreciated it, she’s known Jasper and Horace their whole lives. That was the difference between them, and apparently that meant a lot to Jasper. 
After her (admittedly long) bath, she decided to make tea and watch tv. It was her favorite way to unwind, that’s why she was a bit annoyed when someone knocked on the door. She took a look at the clock on the wall nearby, wondering who would be at her door at 8:00., before making her way to said door. She didn’t look through the peephole before opening the door and regretted it almost immediately. Jasper stood on the other side with an apologetic smile on his face. Before she could close the door or say anything, Jasper held up his arms to reveal a Dalmatian puppy. 
“Say hello to Penny,” he said softly. Angela gasped at the sight of the puppy and her gaze softened. Carefully stepping outside, she picked up the Dalmatian as if she was holding a baby. 
“She's so cute,” Angela cooed, petting Penny behind her ear. “I didn’t know the dog had her puppies already.” Jasper nodded with a small smile. 
“She’s yours. If you want her, that is.” Angela nodded immediately with a bright smile before looking at him. 
“Thank you,” she responded softly. The man nodded once more. 
“Check her collar,” he instructed. Angela furrowed her brows but did as she said, almost immediately finding the diamond necklace from earlier attached to it. Right beside it was a receipt. 
“You paid for it,” she muttered, looking at him with surprise. 
“I also wanted to apologize,” Jasper added. Angela’s shock wore away and she offered him a small smile. 
“How about you come inside and we can talk?” She suggested. The man smiled gratefully at her then followed her inside. 
             The next ten minutes were spent on the couch with Jasper telling Angela all that had been on his mind the past month and how it was affecting him negatively. Angela listened silently, continuing to pet Penny. 
“I wish you would have told me this instead of letting it manifest,” she commented once he was done. “Maybe you wouldn’t have gotten so mad and compared me to your friend.” Jasper looked down, ashamed as his earlier words ran through his head. 
“I know, it was a bloody terrible thing I did. I never compare you to Cruella, that was the only time. That doesn’t make it any better but I want to make up for it,” he responded earnestly. Angela hummed softly, glancing down at Penny. 
“Well, getting me gifts won’t get my forgiveness, but it’s definitely an adorable start.” Jasper grinned when the girl giggled at her own words then nodded. 
“I’ll do whatever it takes.” 
“How about you help me make dinner and stay over,” she suggested with a playful smile. “Depending on how good you cook, I may just forgive you tonight.” Jasper mimicked her smile. 
“You’re on,” he said before standing. Angela took his hand when he held it out for her and they walked to the kitchen together.
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akindofmagictoo · 3 years ago
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manuscript search tag game
wow look it’s another one! this comes from @talesofsorrowandofruin 
my words are damage, succeed, glass, pride 
damage (Dragonsong) (mm time for some sadness... but also a cute mental image of Robin) 
Several doors had been ripped off their hinges by particularly enthusiastic knights. Isi joined a group of people replacing one, helping to stabilise it while someone reattached the hinges. She was glad of the work, even though it made her muscles work and her shoulder ache. It gave her something else to concentrate on as the adrenaline and panic filtered slowly out of her. 
The damage was greater than Isi had expected, and she found several different tasks to join in with before she took a breather. Across the town square, Robin sat on the ground, playing catch with a group of small children. The ball bounced off his chest and he grinned. 
Had he ever had this kind of childhood? He’d grown up in an orphanage, she knew, but he’d started training to be a knight at only seven years old. Isi had only joined at nine, so she’d had a few more years at home to be a child. She’d enjoyed the training much more than some did; it was certainly rigorous and well-structured. Isi thrived on that… but many children found it much harder to adjust. Many of the other trainees Isi had been housed with had struggled. It wasn’t a system that left much time for play. 
succeed (Dragonsong) 
“I’m not content. But where would I even begin to do anything more? I will not throw my life away on a suicide mission that has no hope of success.” He set the needle and thread aside and wiped his hands, then picked up another roll of bandage. “I have friends who tried peaceful routes, and some that tried less peaceful routes. It did not end well for them.” 
Isi nodded slowly. “If I could come up with a plan… would you help me?” 
“Perhaps.” Jasper wrapped the bandage around her waist, pulled it firm, tied it off. “Where’d you get this?” 
“We were imprisoned, and Bethany wanted to know where Enya was. I didn’t know. This was a warning, I believe. To encourage me to talk.” 
Jasper said nothing for a moment. “So you understand, then, that if your plan does not succeed, there will be much more than a warning.” He packed up his medical supplies. “I will be downstairs if you need me.” Without another word, he left. 
glass (Hurricane) (Aella doing a sneaky) 
The barkeep paused, a little unsure what to do with that comment, and looked around. “Knives by the door. All of you. Now, so I can see you.” 
The men holding knives shuffled sheepishly to do as he’d said. Aella set down the dripping remnant of bottle in her hand, hoping the barkeep hadn’t seen. It wasn’t technically a weapon, but she doubted he would see the distinction the way she did. Once satisfied everyone had complied, the barkeep huffed and returned to the kitchen. The serving-girl thanked Elizabeth and followed.
Aella shoved through the crowd, broken glass crunching under her boots, to slip an arm around Elizabeth’s waist. 
pride (Dragonsong) (in which Isi muses about violence yet again) 
As a trainee knight, she’d taken pride in her sword skills, loved the surge of satisfaction that came with a well-placed hit. She’d worked hard to improve, to perfect, to commit movements to memory. But now she couldn’t help but wonder whether she should be more. Not just a swordswoman, not just a fighter. 
She’d told Robin once that a sword was simply an object, one that could be used for good or bad… but it seemed more and more that all they did was harm. Sometimes they saw it as necessary harm, like fighting off a wolf. Harm nonetheless. 
She hoped one day she could set the sword aside for good. She couldn’t hold a weapon forever. She didn’t want to. Taking a deep breath, she slid the blade back into its sheath. 
I shall tag @ashen-crest @lowslore @pepperdee @rosiewritesandrambles @diphthongsfordays and anyone else who wants to play! your words, should you choose to accept them, are stare, pry, twitch, bother 
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horrorslashergirl · 4 years ago
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My Slashersonas and s/o types
I got many asks about about s/o some of my OC would love, so I decided to write down for each of them. Also the ‘Type’ thing is what my OCs are: dominant, submissive, switch etc.
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Richard Firewood (Pansexual)
Type: Cold Dominant
His type of s/o would have to be someone who is willing or not, depending on the situation, to give up their life and live with him at his hotel; he needs that someone to be completely dedicated to him, which means that they don't have to work so that they will be at their beck and call to Richard.
He owns a luxury hotel, he is very rich and can provide for himself and his s/o everything they need. His s/o has just to be his pet, following after his steps as they worship him.
His s/o has to listen and be submissive; of course, he will listen to what his s/o has to say if they have a certain desire or wish, but he has the final word and decision.
His s/o has to have class, as in they know how to act in public, don't embarrass him. If you are his, you have to play the cute and mannered partner. He is willing to teach you that if he sees some potential in you, but warning, his patience wears thin, so you better learn quickly if you want to stay with him.
He is a very busy man, so a clingy s/o annoys him. Yes, he loves the attention you give him, but what is too much might trigger him and you don't want an angry Richard.
Jackson Jasper (Pansexual)
Type: Warm/Caring Dominant
Being his s/o is much simpler than Richards because Jackson doesn't expect you to be perfect in all departments, he understands the fact that we all have flaws, but he does have certain expectations.
His type of s/o would have to be a housewife type or househusband seeing how he doesn't discriminate. Love is love, or in case what he wants he gets and he expects you to play that role; cleaning the house, doing the laundry, cooking breakfast and dinner.
He loves a clingy s/o, mostly because he is touch-starved and even when he goes on work trips with the truck he will pull you along, if the trips are short, after all.... There are animals and his dog, Jackpot that needs to be taken care.
Down and dirty; he needs someone who is more country-oriented than a town person. His style of life is simple, with no big technology. He does own a phone and a television, but that's about it. A s/o who isn't put off by a farm like life, someone who doesn't bicker about the mess the animals make. If you're like that, Jackson isn't for you, so you better keep the distance or he will drive over you with his truck.
His libido is pretty big, so an opened up s/o into sexual activities is a big must. A s/o that is all down to have fun between the bedsheets or many quickies around the house.
The Hacker (Pansexual)
Type: Sadistic Dominant
The opposite of Jackson above; The Hacker is a big city guy, surrounded by all technology and hates the rural areas; no Wifi? Fuck off. He lives in New York and the city that never sleeps is his favorite territory.
When it comes to  s/o type he needs someone exciting, someone, that is a constant rollercoaster. He is dominant, but having a complete submissive s/o that follows his every command is boring after one week. If you want to be his s/o, you will need to come with something new every once in a while, be it regular activities like going to a club, playing laser tag to all kinds of new kinks in the bedroom.
Someone smart; he has a genius-level intellect, so if you want to maintain a long-term relationship with him, you will have to get your smarts on. 
No nagging! He understands the fact that a relationship has its ups and downs, but don't tell him every 10 minutes to pick up his clothes from the floor, or that he should empty the ashtray from cigarettes and not to mention the cans of energy drinks from around his desk. He will do that! Don't tell him what to do constantly or he will make you disappear.
Bambi Miller (Bisexual)
Type: Caring Dominant/Playful Submissive
Her type of s/o has to be someone with manners because she is sick of the sleazy bastards and vain hookers in her hometown. She needs someone who respects her as she will respect them.
A warm and familist s/o; she has been an orphan since birth and she doesn't know what a family feels like. She wants what she didn't have as a child or teenager, someone that she can form an emotional bond. She did have sexual relationships, but the lack of the emotional prospect has left her with a bitter taste.
Someone old-school style; she doesn't need all the luxury life has to offer, she will be just content with a nice modest house that has a roof. She appreciates the smallest things life has to offer, even if it's just a pillow she can sleep on. 
Someone energetic and fun; she loves to go out and enjoy herself, playing darts, dancing, and having a couple of drinks, but be respectful towards her if it's the first date. She doesn't enjoy someone's hands inside her pants just like that out of the blue.
A s/o that can offer her assurance as in that she isn't alone, that life can change for the better, and just simply holds her in the morning on the front porch drinking coffee.
Dave Anthony (Pansexual)
Type: Insane/Cruel Dominant
His type of s/o would have to be human and small, considering he is over 7'0 tall that should work for almost everyone. He needs a s/o that doesn't break that easily and can keep up with his sadistic shenanigans; a masochistic s/o would be perfect for him.
His s/o can be anywhere; if the s/o entered his asylum, it's all done. You can be in Asia and he will simply teleport there. Your soul is bound now to him. There is no escape.
He isn't picky when it comes to a s/o, so almost anyone will do, but he does have some rules. He doesn't want someone evil for a s/o. He is attracted to purity. It's ironic seeing how evil he was as a human and more so as a poltergeist.
A feisty s/o perhaps? Just so he can break them, that's entertainment for him. What's the point of a s/o who is already broken? He cannot play with a broken toy.
Samuel Grayson (Straight and Demisexual)
Type: Attentive Dominant
A complete opposite of Dave; Samuel's s/o has to have a pure heart, but he won't hurt his s/o, unlike Dave. Samuel kills only the ones that are plagued by sins. A genuine s/o with a heart of gold is perfect for him, someone who can light his black and cold heart.
A loyal s/o; he hates cheating, so if you want to be with him, you better give up on dating, flirting, and all that. He hates liars and he will know if you cheated.
A s/o that loves dogs, seeing how almost half of his being are demonic Dobermans.
As a human he wanted to have a family of his own, so he needs a familist s/o, even if said s/o has a job to go to, he is patient. He will wait for you to get home and watch as you take care of his apartment, now yours too. 
Gerome and Axel (Pansexual)
Type: Sadistic Dominant/Smug Submissive
They need an understanding s/o, seeing how they are together in everything, even a relationship with someone. You get two hitmen in one shot, so you better have enough energy for two.
A lively s/o, someone who is smiling and always in the mood for fun, even if it's day or night because these two don't have a schedule.
Perhaps a housewife s/o type? Being mostly away and on their jobs, someone has to take care of their beach house. You can choose if you want to work too, they don't mind an independent s/o, but just so you know.... They earn a lot of money from being hitmen.
A flexible s/o; are you a dominant, a submissive? Either way works for them. Gerome is a more laid-back playful guy, while Axel is the opposite, being cold and with sharp edges, so a s/o who can balance them would be perfect.
Their s/o has to be understanding; they are hitmen and that's what they do, it's their job and they won't give up on that for anyone. Take them as they are.
Damiano Liberato (Straight)
Type: Sensual Dominant
He is very picky and his s/o has to reach certain standards; a trophy s/o that he can show off in public only to assert his importance and dominance.
His s/o has to be classy, always put together, after all, he is a fashion mogul and he doesn't settle for someone who wears jeans and sneakers. No, no. Absolutely no. His s/o won't ever embarrass him like that. It's an insult!
Genuine adoration; because of his past, Damiano needs someone who stays with him for HIM, not for his status or money. If he finds out his s/o is a golddigger, then said s/o will be turned into a grotesque mannequin.
Manners are a must; not only must you look impeccable, but your attitude needs to be the same; back straight, always answer when someone asks you something, pay attention. Little things that are vital when in a relationship with this fashion killer.
Azment (Pansexual)
Type: Loving Dominant/Playful Submissive
Being her s/o doesn't require too much work, just your undying attention, and love towards her. She isn't picky about it, to be honest; just don't leave the mansion or you will die. Easy as that.
Mitch Carson (Pansexual)
Type: Animalistic Dominant
He is more animal than human and doesn't really have many expectations from a s/o. His s/o would be more like a captive than a love interest. He views his s/o as a form of sexual relief and nothing else.
He needs a submissive s/o that will stay by his side and even if they try to escape him, he will chase them down. You are his and his alone, so you better stay put or he will collar and chain you like an animal. 
Mitch doesn't have any humanity left inside him, so he doesn't understand the concept of a s/o.
Azol (Pansexual)
Type: Degrading/Cruel Dominant
Much like Dave... Azol is a supernatural evil being with a sadistic pleasure in hurting and inflicting physical and psychical pain on his s/o, not fatally, but enough to make them cry, so a masochistic s/o would be perfect.
His s/o would have to be someone who is pretty much alone, and if they are not, well.... say bye, bye to your friends and family. 
A sassy s/o could work for him because he loves a challenge and loves to show off what real power resides inside him, teaching his s/o their place is the best game.
The Shadow (Pansexual)
Type: Sensual/Sadistic Dominant
Being a dominant, he needs a s/o who is submissive, playing the obedient housewife or better yet, maid; he has a busy life and is constantly working, so someone needs to keep his house spotless.
An intellectual s/o is a must; well not as intellectual as him, because he is a master genius and he knows it, but he doesn't want a mindless s/o that he needs to tell them what to do every five seconds.
His s/o won't need to work. He provides more than enough for both of you, all his s/o has to do is take care of his house, make dinner and be at his beck and call when the more.... lustful side comes out to play.
A respectful s/o; all childhood he has been criticized by the people that should have loved him. Don't question him, because what he does is for his and your best. Just stay by his side, loyal and things will be just fine.
He is a traditional type of guy, and doesn't get the idea of nowadays modern things and fashion; a vintage-like s/o would be perfect for him, decent and presentable.
Bahini Talibah (Straight and Demisexual)
Type: Caring/Loving Submissive
A s/o that would be perfect for her is someone with lots of patience and understanding because she has been through a worse ordeal in the love department and it takes time for her to trust someone on that level.
Someone who is simple; she doesn't need a perfect husband with money and all that material nonsense. She wants someone who will unconditionally care for her, be by her side when she needs emotional support.
A s/o that is a good listener. She has a lot to tell you, once you earned her trust, and to understand her better you need to hear out her stories because she has many interesting things to tell you, after all....she is over 100 years old.
Honesty; an honest s/o who will tell her everything they have on their heart, even if it's choosing a tv program, just be honest that you want to watch something else. 
Xaviera Lah-Mo (Straight)
Type: Obedient Submissive/Cheeky Dominant
She is a free spirit and needs someone who will match her wild soul, someone who isn't afraid to get into the far more dangerous part of the world; after all.... She is flirting with danger a lot; hunting poachers, observing wild animals that can kill her if she isn't careful.
A protective s/o; she can take care of herself, being good with the sniper rifle and into archery, but she lacks the strength into the body to body fight. It makes her feel loved to be protected.
Someone with a rough edge; she is spending most of her time in the wildness, far FAR away from the big cities. She prefers the quietness and tranquility of nature. A s/o that isn't fazed by few scratches or hard physical work, a strong s/o.
Someone with a sense of humor; she wants someone that can make her laugh, even if it's just for a few seconds and that's a hard one because she is a tough one to crack.
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saharamae21 · 4 years ago
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Lilypad - Drew Starkey Imagine
Author: sguymon21
Summary: A request for Drew where the reader is pregnant and throughout their pregnancy he does bump updates and pregnancy updates for both you're families because they don't live in LA. Like her bump getting bigger, the weird cravings she's having, videos of the baby kicking, decorating the nursery, mood swings, parenting classes, and whatever else you can think of? REQUESTED
Word Count: 1.9K+
Warnings: None
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When you found out you were pregnant, you were ecstatic. The only person who stood a chance of matching your excitement was Drew. You knew how much he wanted to start a family, so when the time finally came, he cried. He held you in his arms and placed his hands on your stomach. You knew he was going to be a fantastic father.
Month One
When Drew told you that he wanted to send your families monthly updates, you were completely on board. At one month, you lined up at the wall, chalkboard in hand, and had him take your side profile. You giggled as it felt like a mugshot. Nothing was noticeable yet in the photos, but you were definitely experiencing changes. The morning sickness was already to affect your everyday life and you became super sensitive to certain foods. Even the smell of coffee in the morning made you want to throw up, even though you normally needed a cup or two most days.
You sat on the couch and held your stomach. Even though your baby was only the size of a half grain of rice, they were fully controlling your every move. Drew sat down next to you and pulled you into his chest.
“Do you want a boy or a girl?” he muttered. You smiled, knowing what he wanted already. He wanted a little girl that he could spoil. You on the other hand wanted a boy. You wanted a mini Drew running around the place.
“Secret,” you mumbled. He chuckled at you as you closed your eyes. The fatigue set in, causing you to fall asleep in his arms. He watched the mother of his child with the most admiration possible and hoped that in a few months he would have a new girl to hold in his arms.
Month Two
The first month passed quickly and you found yourself in front of the wall again. You held up the blackboard that read two months and smiled for the camera. However, as soon as it was taken, your smile faded. You were exhausted and your hormones were going crazy. The doctors informed you that you had to severely limit your caffeine intake and withdrawal was setting in. Your head was constantly in agony and the nausea had somehow gotten worse throughout the past week.
Drew got home early from a shoot and looked around. Usually you were in the living room, but today the apartment was silent. He knew you didn’t have a doctors appointment and began to worry something was wrong. He opened the door to your guy’s bedroom and found you nestled in between the sheets. He smiled at your sleeping figure before crawling into bed.
You stirred awake and flickered your eyes open. Drew eyes met you and it filled your heart with warmth. All the sickness and fatigue was worth it when you saw the way he looked at you.
Month Three
The first sign of life appeared when you looked at the picture for month three. A small baby bump presented itself as you excitedly held up the blackboard. It wasn’t very big, but it was enough to make the both of you emotional. He held you from behind, his hands on your tummy. This was his new favorite position. He loved to have as much contact with your unborn baby as he could.
You laid on the floor of the apartment angry. Your emotions weren’t quite back in check and the crazings were starting to set in. All you wanted was peanut butter and tortilla shells, but you were out of peanut butter. You had asked Drew to grab some on the way home, but he was having a less than ideal day and said no. That put you in a mood and you haven't moved since. You wanted to have a stand off and wait until he caved and agreed to get it for you, but the baby was demanding food.
You forced yourself up to look in the cupboards, but nothing sounded good. Feeling emotional and defeated, you sat down on the kitchen floor and just began to cry. Minutes later, the door opened and Drew walked in. He heard you crying and knew that he should’ve had more patience with you. He walked in and crouched down in front of you, holding a new container of peanut butter out for you. You sniffled and looked up at him, knowing that if you two had a little girl, Drew would never be able to say no to her.
Month Four
You stood against the wall with a huge smile. Your stomach was continuing to grow every week and your excitement grew with it. You had begun to think of names for your child, but Drew and you had different tastes. Drew didn’t want to play into the whole celebrity child names, but you wanted something different. No child of yours would be named Jacob or Hannah.
You sat on the couch with the most energy you had in weeks. Drew slumped next to you, just in the mood to cuddle. You were in the mood for other things though. It was the first time in the past few months that your sex drive was back. You leaned over and pressed your lips to his neck, causing him to jump. He looked at you as your hand gripped his shirt. He looked at you wide eyed and told you politely that he didn’t want to. You stared at him, mouth agape.
“I-I just don’t wanna hurt the baby,” he said with the most innocent look on his face. You laughed at him and placed a soft kiss on his lips telling him that you loved him.
Month Five
You stood up as straight as you could, proud of the baby that was growing inside of you. You held up the sign and smiled as big as you could. Drew was running around the house for the past week, excitedly talking your ear off. You were supposed to find out the gender this week and he literally couldn’t wait. You two had finally settled on names and that made everything so real. If it was a girl, she would be Lilith. If it was a boy, he would be Jasper.
You sat in the doctor's office with Drew. His arm was slung over your shoulder as the doctor walked in. She smiled at you and told you that the baby was in wonderful condition. So far, there were no issues.
“So, would you like to know the sex?” she said.
We both said yes and you leaned your head on Drew’s shoulder. He had a hand placed on my baby bump and we waited as she looked at the file. She opened her mouth and Drew began to tear up. He kissed the top of my head as you wiped the tears away.
We were having a little girl.
Month Six
You stood against the wall and basically begged him to take the picture. Your legs were aching and you were gaining weight so quickly these days. You smiled as he took the picture, holding the sign like always. After it was done, you went and sat on the couch. Drew joined you shortly after, lifting your legs onto his lap to rub the cramps out of them. You closed your eyes and let him comfort you for the rest of the night.
You looked around the room and smiled. It was painted this muted yellow color and had accents of pink and white. A crib sat in the corner of the room and decorations were everywhere. It was really starting to come together. Drew pulled you in for a quick kiss as you stood in the center of the room. You felt the baby kick inside of you and smiled brightly. Drew had never been around when she was kicking. You grabbed his hand and placed it on your tummy. You watched his eyes go wide as he stared at you in awe.
“Our kid is pretty great, isn’t she?” he said. He loved her so much already.
Month Seven
You were getting pretty big by now. You stood by the wall and held the sign. Our families were getting so excited as we got closer and closer to the due date. They lived for your monthly updates. They also FaceTimed you guys weekly to make sure you felt perfect and so they could see what was changing. They loved being updated on my cravings and you health condition.
You laid on the couch, cuddled into Drew’s arms, as you talked to Jodi. You loved seeing how similar Drew and his mom were. She smiled and asked for a hint on the name we picked, but you had agreed not to tell anyone until after she was born. It was killing your parents.
When he finally hung up, you smiled at each other. The baby always kicked when we talked to our moms. Their voices triggered a happy reaction. He placed his hands there again and felt the movement. He placed a small little kiss on your belly.
“Hey, baby girl… It’s daddy,” he whispered. Then he said something that made you fall in love with him all over again. “I love you, my little lilypad.”
Month Eight
You took the picture for month eight and smiled. You were continuing to gain about a pound of weight a week. You knew we were on the home stretch and honestly, you just wanted my little girl to be here already. Drew took the picture and smiled at you. He was being especially sweet that past few days. He constantly praised you for carrying his child and it made your heart so happy.
We laid in bed together and you shifted in discomfort. The baby has been pressing up against your ribs lately and it was really uncomfortable. You felt Drew pull you into his arms and rubbed your back. You sniffled as your chest felt like it was tightening.
“Hey, shhhh…” he cooed in your ear. He placed small kisses all over your face. “I’m so proud of you. Just a little bit more and then we finally get to meet our little lilypad.”
He was right. One more month and Lilith would be right here in your arms.
Month Nine
We took the final pregnancy photo and jumped for joy. Our little princess would be with you guys in no time. He had gotten your hospital bag ready and the nursery was now finished. All of your friends and families were getting super excited to meet your little girl. Most days, you sat on the couch, on the phone with your moms. They both were planning their trips out here for after the baby was born.
It was about a week before our due date when my contractions began. You sat in bed and panicked as you tried to get a hold of Drew. Your eyes squinted as they became more frequent. Finally, he picked up and you told him you were going into labor. You stood up to grab the hospital bag as he told me he was leaving the gym, clearly in a state of shock. While you were hanging up, your water broke. That’s when it all became way too really.
About 7 hours later, you laid in the hospital bed with Drew. Your little girl was curled up in his arms and the way he stared at her made you melt. He teared up as she slept so peacefully in his arms.
“She’s so beautiful,” he said in a strained voice. He was holding in tears at the sight of our child. “Welcome home, lilypad. Mommy and daddy love you so much.”
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Tag List : @justcallmesams @jellyfishbeansontoast @prejudic3 @queenieloveswriting @jjtheangel @infinitydols @simpingforrudypankowonly @waywardbarbie @outerbankslut @outerbongs @ilovejjmaybank @beth-winchester21 @jiaraendgame @sunwardsss @talksopretty @bb-tings @teenwaywardasgardian @netflix-imagines @canibeoneofthepogues @raekenliar @judayyyw @jjpogueprincess @waywardbabie @casper17
Tagging a few more: @spilledtee @starlightstarkey @potterheadhollander @anonymous0writer @tomhardybby @diverdcwn
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amarantine-amirite · 3 years ago
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It's Not Up To You
I never once had any peace or rest. There was a persistent threat that resources and places would vanish without a trace. Even though I never got my ass handed to me daily, I could never anticipate when I would be able to catch my breath.  
I had to adapt. I had to be able to alter my expectations faster than the circumstances would change. It forced me to abandon having a set image of what I want in my mind. It took away my ability to visualize. I had to anticipate resources disappearing in the future, so I had a hard time with long-term planning.  
Going into the week, I had it all figured out. I had found an iron-clad way for me to have my cake and eat it too. It may not have been ideal, but at least I still had the resources available.
My mother planned to drive me to my piano concert. Because she had a stressful day at work yesterday, she went to the bar. She neither came home nor returned any of my calls, so I assumed she was either crazy hungover or still passed out. I now had to hitch a ride with Jackie and her sister, Henrietta.  
Henrietta drove like she had lead feet. “Uh, Ettie,” Jackie asked, “you just blew through a traffic light at” 
“Don’t tell me how fast I’m going; I need to know where I am!” she snapped. 
“Can we at least stop and get lunch?” I asked. I last ate at 7:00 AM. Bad things happen when I try to function on an empty stomach. My temper gets worse. My impulse control goes to Hell. I bounce off the walls.  
“Hell, no!” Henrietta snarled, “If we stop to eat, we’ll get stuck in a traffic snarl!”
“OK, what’s your problem?” I whined. I had no idea why Henrietta got so upset. 
Henrietta sighed angrily. “Do you wanna know why I’m so fucking pissed off?" she barked, "Those fuckers moved up my fucking interview by a fucking week. I was supposed to get married today! All that money I spent on the venue, the photographer, the catering; that’s money I’m never going to see again!” 
I don’t know how Henrietta could say that without bursting into tears. “And what about Jasper? He’s going to think I broke off the wedding because I don’t have feelings for him anymore. I’m worried. He doesn’t handle rejection well. What if he tries to kill himself again?” 
What happened next felt like being in the desert and coming upon an oasis, only to discover it’s a mirage. When we arrived at our destination, everything went up in smoke. Before we left, Henrietta told me that she would drop us off first, then head to the interview. She looked at us and said, “Nobody's leaving until I finish my interview. Understand?” 
I nodded. Inside, I wanted to smack her. Hard.
Today has been nothing but hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait. I fucking hate being jerked around like this. The constant stop-and-start made me feel like someone drained of my life force. I can’t deal with it anymore. 
Jackie and I came up with a plan. The plan was simple, like Henrietta’s would-be husband, Jasper. Unlike Jasper, the plan stood a chance of working. When they let her in to do the interview, Jackie and I would duck out and go to my piano concert. We’d come back when I finished my set, and that’d be that.
Problem. We made a huge tactical error. 
It’s a long story. At the beginning of the school year, the cheerleaders thought it would be funny to nominate Anna Rose, the head of the chess club, for prom queen as a joke. Anna didn’t know about this, but the principal did. On Halloween night, we got something really scary in our inboxes: an official email with the school's letterhead saying that due to “bullying", prom would be permanently cancelled until measurable snowfall in July. A lot of the anxieties that kids channel into what they’re going to do at their prom got redirected elsewhere. 
The kids at school got offended. By everything. Like, a lot.
Remember how I said that school has been so hard for me because I have no idea what to expect? Well, this piano concert thing was a perfect example. I had to make a list of not just one song, but for possible songs that I could play at this concert. I need to be ready to switch out songs in case the band teacher changed his mind. He always did stuff like that. One day, you could pick whatever song you wanted for school concerts, and the next, they would say that it had to come from a pre-approved list. So that meant I had no idea what song I was going to play. When people asked me, the best I could say was, "I’ve got a lineup." Lineup was not a good choice of words; a better choice of words would have been revolving door .
This brings us to our mistake: the same reason that I had to keep a revolving door of songs in my mind for the concert was also the same reason why we should have called the hotel where the concert was to be held ahead of time to double-check to see if the school had not cancelled it. We did not do that.
That brings us to right now. We are smack dab in the middle of what appears to be a campus recruitment event. Everyone in the room except for us is wearing cheap suits that fit somebody else, nobody looks familiar, and the atmosphere consists of a general air of anxiety and lack of preparedness.
Five minutes after we arrived, a woman wearing a pantsuit that made her look like a pool table, pineapple earrings, and a name tag that read “Megan Mulroney“ approached us. “Excuse me, ladies," she said, “are you students at The Fletcher School?”
“No, we go to Arthur Vandelay high school," Jackie said, “I’m here with Margaret because she’s got a piano concert to go to.” 
I stood up and looked at Megan. “So is that in the Gold room, because I got a copy of the flyer here and it says Hall B, and I don’t know where that is, and…”
Megan cut us off. “I don't know what you’re talking about,” she said.
I handed Megan the flyer. “I’m talking about this.”
She didn’t look at the flyer. She gave it right back to me. “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here, but that’s a piece of blank paper." 
“It’s not blank!” I chirped. 
“Yes, it is; and I don’t appreciate you wasting my time like this.“
“We’re not wasting your time.”
“Well then, why am I dealing with two overdressed high school idiots when I have new grads to check in for a networking event?” she said, doing her best impression of a bratty 12-year-old.
“Why are you so stubborn?”
Megan shrugged at us and rolled her eyes in a cocky fashion. “I'm not stubborn all the time. I'm only stubborn when I’m right.” 
Big red flag. If someone says I'm only stubborn when I'm right , it means they're putting up a front, either because they don't want to but they're wrong or they're trying to bullshit you. 
She continued to puff herself out. “Listen, you’re not special. What happens to you happens to other people, too.”
“Not helpful,” I said as I rolled my eyes.  
She shrugged her shoulders. “Well, sorry you feel that way.”
“What does that even mean?” I blurted.  
She ignored us. Rather than explain what was going on, she instead attempted to have phone sex with Idris Elba and got the wrong number.
It didn’t stop there. One look out the window told me we’d have to get someone else to pick us up, as Henrietta got arrested. I’m guessing she found out that the job she applied for was posted as an April Fool’s Day joke and she either trashed the office or beat the crap out of the hiring manager. Based on the black eye, I think it was the second thing. 
Terrific. Now we have no plan, no ride home, and no idea what the fuck is supposed to happen next. 
I’m devastated. I feel gutted. But beyond that, I'm spooked.
This isn't something you'd consider typically scary. It felt like that last photo taken before a disaster. This looming sense that something catastrophic is coming down the pike continues to hang over me.
@writers-are-writers
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aliypop · 3 years ago
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Blood Lust
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Word count :  2,105
Warning: Language
A/N : Some more Tiffany and the boys in the past! I did it I wanna dedicate this 2 days of writing this fic to  @whatisgoingonpaul the source for the lost boys prequel as well as @a-supernatural-writer and @pitiful-anonymous-vampire
Near the dark, damp, humid Santa Carla bluffs sat several outlaws around a campfire. Tiffany and Stewart waited behind a few trees, her fangs sharp and ready to rip into the first ounce of flesh that she could get into. "Did ya hear somethin..." the two men who looked like bandits asked each other. The sounds of waves crashed against the rocks from below as the trees rustled. Darkness spreads across the bluff as Stewart blew out the fire. "Wh...Who's there..." one of the men says, feeling a deathly still presence from behind him. The cold hands of death touch the man's neck-snapping it in half as the mark of a lover's kiss is left on the corpse. 
"Well, boys, don't just sit there..." Tiffany turned to face the freshly turned vampires and their sire Max. Standing like statues, the boys only looked at Tiffany and Stewart. Who were both covered in blood,
 "Don't tell me you didn't ..." Tiffany glared at Max, who had the grin of a conman on his face. 
" Didn't what Ms." 
"How dare you turn these boys into vampires and yet have them figure it out themselves!" Tiffany shouted, her hands close to ripping her hair out. "First of all, little girl..." his hand underneath her chin. Tiffany nearly snapped at his finger, "I will rip you apart from where you stand..." she growled at him, hearing his already sickening laughter. 
"Is everything okay..." David asked, his reddish-blonde hair poking up from behind Max. 
"Not to worry... someones just being disrespectful, isn't she..." 
"If Camilla hears about this... she'll make you wish you never were born... " Tiffany laughed as she then saw a long-haired blond pounced on top of a body, "Paul use your hands first and then teeth!" she smirked, her dark blue gown trailing behind her. Flesh ripping apart was the only sound that Max and Tiffany heard as the two sat by a fire admiring the skill that "his" boys were learning. "Jasper!" Max shouted at the younger boy, his hair almost as long as his older brothers. 
"Yes..." 
"Try harder, will ya..." Max said, a bit disappointed in the boy. Jasper only sighed as he continued trying to find the right vein to feed on; Max only watched as Jasper struggled, almost as if he got a kick out of seeing the young boy starve to death. Stewart shook his head, taking his nail to the wrist of the soon-to-be corpse splitting it open. 
"Thanks..."
"Don't mention it, kid." he ruffled up his hair, getting a glare from Dwayne. The vampires had begun to travel further into the woods, trying to find the perfect place to make camp. Horses trotted in the woods, 
Stewart, whose hands were around Marko's waist, rested his tired body against his back and turned to look at Paul, who only rolled his eyes at him and kept riding past. "I'm just saying, Tiffany, you'd make a great..." 
"A great what..." she turned to face Max, her horse catching up to his.
 "I would say mother, but you can't even side-saddle..." Max mumbled, taking note of the way she rode. "And to think you've trained to be a lady... " Tiffany only laughed as she shook her head, " I am no lady..." taking the reins of her horse galloping in the wind past Max, "I suggest we trot faster if you want to live." she sang from afar. Marko, Stewart, and Paul had taken camp together. The three wrapped tightly in a blanket. Tiffany stood in her tent, her locket an ice blue amulet in hand, memories of a life she wanted to leave behind. Tiffany could feel a cold touch reach up to her back, her skin crawling as the hand reached up to her shoulder. 
"Poor little girl ... still waiting for happily ever afters, huh..." 
"Leave me alone..." 
"Or what you'll cry..." he laughed, "Lestat was right about you... You're easy too, eager," Tiffany wrapped her hands around his neck, urging her to squeeze him harder. Her vamping out only grew pale while Max nicked her with his nails.
"Hey, anyone seen my cigarettes ..." Dwayne poked his head in; The smell of her blood luring both him and David, Max, had only excused himself as both David and Dwayne invited themselves in, Tiffany began to back away from the two. Her eyes were now yellow and red from tears that wouldn't come.
 "Hey, hey, hey, it's okay..." David took her hand, 
"Look at me..." Dwayne said, his eyes trailing back to her wrist. Tiffany faced the two vampires as she took a deep breath.
 "I'm so sorry I wish you didn't have to..." 
"You're bleeding, dear..." David pointed out as Dwayne's eyes followed suit. Adjusting her wrist out, she watched as he hesitantly bit down on the already semi-healing skin. 
"Wanna tell us what the hell that was about..." David pried. 
"Just vampire stuff..." She shrugged, watching as Dwayne glared at her. 
"I promise you two it's nothing... I need to rest and..." 
"Tell us what's going on, Monroe." Dwayne pulled away from the wound, his hand firmly holding onto her hand,
 "I'm not that important ..." she mumbled as the two boys looked at her, 
"Max only wants me around you guys like a mother figure..." she laughed, removing her skirt, 
" So what do you want to be..." David turned away, letting her undress. "Well, I want to be myself... " she bit her lips feeling hands ghost over her corset. 
"And who would that be," Dwayne asked, glancing at the whalebone marks on her skin, "You tied this yourself..." 
"Mhmm, what's wrong with it..."
"It's shit." he laughed, 
"I beg your pardon!" she gasped, "It's perfect. "
"Yeah, if you don't wanna breathe." David turned his head, "You know Anastasia taught me how to lace up a corset."
"Here we go..." 
"No, no, let him speak..." Tiffany suggested as she sat down in the grass, 
"But if you can tie nautical knots, you can lace a fucking corset." David looked at the woman as she laughed. There was a sadness behind his eyes every time he mentioned the name Anastasia, but she must have meant so much to him. The colors of orange, pink, and blue began to crack amongst the dark sky as both David and Dwayne were asleep in her tent. Sitting out in the Dawn were Tiffany and Stewart watching daybreak hatch. 
" I think it time I change a new leaf..." she huffed, the warm rays on her skin, 
"What do you mean ..." 
"It's a new era, and I can't keep being what everyone wants me to be... I can only be who I'm supposed to be." she looked back as she saw Jasper, who was getting a peek of what would be his last sunrise over California.  
Sitting in the lobby of the Santa Carla resort was Tiffany, her thoughts heavy and her mind scrambling around. Looking down at her engagement ring, she admired every detail that Dracula had put into it. But she knew that none of it was hers: instead, it was just another way for her to become a trophy in his collection of wives. Max had then sat next to her, his hand on top of hers. 
" Go away..." She grumbled. 
"Or what..." Max smirked, tilting her head up with his chin, 
"I'll take everything you've ever loved away from you..." she growled, "Including the boys..." 
"You wouldn't..." His control over the other vampire fading, "You wouldn't know the first thing about raising boys..." Tiffany laughed as she broke from his grip, walking away from the power-hungry sire,
 "You know something, Maxi..." 
"What..." 
"You've no power over me... nor does Dracula..."
"You sure about that..." 
"Highly sure ... now if you excuse me, I've made arrangements with Paul and Jasper to go pickpocke-" she stopped talking as the ground under her began to shake, the infamous earthquake of 1906, the residence of the hotel had all rushed to the door,
 the chandelier had started crumbling down from the lobby ceiling. As a few people got caught from underneath it, Tiffany looked back to see Jasper, who was reaching out for his brother's hand, Dwayne looking at Tiffany, while Marko Paul and Stewart tried to help.
"You stay awake, do you hear me ?! don't you dare close your eyes."
 "Leave them, Tiffany..." Max said, watching as Tiffany tried to run from his hypnotic grasp,
 "I gotta do something..." she tried to pull away as he only beckoned for her to follow as well as the rest of the boys.
"Who has the power over who now..." he mumbled, the once ever so astounding resort torched with flames and burnt memories; faded into the night sky, leaving the sound of silence and howls of wolves in the background. "I'm sorry about your brother I-" Dwayne kept looking ahead as the two kept walking, 
"Don't worry about it, snookums, Dwayne, gets like that when he's upset..." Paul mentioned as Tiffany giggled, "Snookums eh... What god awful human did you learn that from."
"Some guy named Walter Emerson..." he looked at the pocket watch that he stole. He then looked back at Marko and Stewart, the two chatting away, while Tiffany looked at David, who had lost the love of his mortal life. She wanted to ask if he was okay, but his eyes looking towards the North Star said differently. 
Tiffany sighed as she kept walking, her boots getting stuck in the mud while her hair begun to stick from sweat to her face. " Can't we just fucking rest for the night... " The young woman groaned, 
"I mean David's fucking out of it, Stewart and Marko ate two rats, and Dwayne he's practically falling asleep, and Paul..." she looked back, "Holy Hell, where's Paul!" Tiffany turned to see the blond ripping the neck off a wolf open. Max grumbled both by his and her actions. He was irritated, but the nagging and the tiredness reminded him why he hated dealing with such newly turned vampires. 
"My Feet hurt..." Marko grumbled, 
"It's too hot..." David groaned. 
"FINE WE'LL STOP." Max turned towards the boys, his teeth out and ready to rip into anyone else who so had a complaint. They found a campsite with fire, a few tents, and what seemed to be a few drunk soldiers. 
"Tiffany, get rid of them." Max pointed in the direction of the men, "See boys: When you're more experienced, you'll also be able to cause as much bloodshed just like that..." he turned back to see limbs discarded amongst the ground, the perfect meal for a vampire feeding their young. "The place is all yours, boys..." 
As the boys went to rest, Tiffany did as well. Dressed in her nightgown, laying on the cot, she could feel a hand stroking her hair as it kept singing her name.  
Tiffany 
Tiffany
Tiffany 
She tossed and turned on the couch from up under her, teased out hair drenched in a cold sweat. "It's happening again..." Marko sighed, dabbing away beads of sweat from her forehead. Paul rushed over, holding her hand feeling, the odd heat radiating off her skin. 
 "Tiffany, sweetheart, I want you to drink this..." David said, trying to get her to look at him. It was the third time this month that Tiffany hadn't been so lucky when it came to feeding. She had caught a case of Blotoisis better, known as Vampiritis, a flu-like sickness that happens when a vampire consumes blood from a sick human. 
"I ... I don't wanna..." she shivered, her eyes closed from the lighting of the fire barrels, "You gotta toots..." Marko kissed her forehead. Dwayne rolled his eyes, placing another cold towel on her forehead, noticing Angelica, who had been holding hands with Sam, and someone else who he presumed to be a friend of hers that she met. 
" Babycakes..." Tiffany reached out to Dwayne, "Je ne me sens pas bien je veux des câlins." she pouted as Dwayne held her hand, "No cuddles until you feel better."
"I want you all to meet my friend..." Angelica said, walking further into the cave holding a can of chicken noodle soup. 
"Not now, kiddo..." David shooed her away. 
"But..."
"Tiff's sick..." Dwayne shrugged
"Will ya stop shooing away my girlfriend for one second," Jasper smirked, standing to the side, his dark hair almost as long as his brothers, 
"Jasper..." the boys said, turning to face him.
"Sheesh, love what you did to the place..."  
"I must be hallucinating ..."
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bonjour-rainycity · 4 years ago
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The Long Way Around ~ Chapter 8
Link to previous part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/623476978292555776/the-long-way-around-chapter-7
Pairing: Jasper x Reader
Word count: 2191
Warnings: None
Jasper’s POV
It doesn’t take long for us to get to the waterfall. I had been careful, keeping us deep in the woods so the chances of running into a human were slim. Really, I probably shouldn’t have taken the risk, but Y/n seemed so happy at the prospect of leaving the house. And, I really love this spot, so I was eager to show her.
It’s dark when we arrive, the moon high in the sky and stars twinkling all around. Y/n, of course, loves it. She gasps, immediately running to the edge of the pool to let the waterfall splash droplets into her face.
“Jasper, it’s beautiful.”
I close my eyes, enjoying the way she says my name. So soft, so sweet, and without any judgement or fear. I find myself wishing she would say my name more often.
She tugs on my hand, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Let’s go to the top.”
We have to let go of each other’s hands to climb the steep rocks, and I’m surprised to discover I don’t like the loss of contact. What’s that about? Y/n sees my frown and I feel her insecurity. I mentally kick myself. Stop being so obvious with your feelings. Get it together.
We reach the top and I force a grin, trying to even out my behavior and squash my nerves. “What do you think?”
She chuckles, still on her guard. “I think we’re very high up. If I was human, I’d be terrified.”
As it is, I can still feel some fear. Using my ability, I push it away. Suspecting I’ve intervened, she smiles. “Thank you.”
She plops down on the top of the wet rock and, once again, I mentally curse myself. I should have brought a blanket or something. She doesn’t seem to mind but still, I feel guilty. One would think I haven’t an ounce of chivalry.
“So how does the mood control thing work anyway? Like can you only calm people down or is it a little bit of everything?”
I sit next to her, surprised we’ve never talked about this before. “A little bit of everything, though I try to stay away from some of the more manipulative emotions. It’s not right to mess with people like that.”
I feel her interest. “Manipulative like what?”
I take a breath, hesitant to make her aware of the more dangerous aspect of my ability. But she asked, and it would be selfish to deny her. “Fear, mostly. Lust, love…” I trail off, feeling the nearly imperceptible shift in her emotions. She’s intrigued.
“Can you make me feel something right now?”
At my immediate shake of the head, she rolls her eyes. “Nothing extreme, just something everyday. Like you’ve done before. I want to see if I can tell your influence from what’s natural.”
Seems harmless enough. With a sigh of reluctance, I nod. She grins in anticipation.
It doesn’t take much effort to make her feel calm and lethargic; I’d done that many times before. Still, it’s a bit unnerving to see her posture slump as the force of my ability hits her. So, I switch to something more positive and make her feel giddy. She breaks out into delighted laughter, only some of which is my doing, and claps her hands.
“That’s so cool!”
I smile, a spark of pride running through me.
She shakes her head, her disbelief coming through. “Gosh, how do you do it all day? Feel everything. I would go crazy.”
My smile turns a bit rueful as I look off into the distance, contemplating. “It is a lot, sometimes. Most days I can tune it out, though I can never ignore it completely. It’s just like a constant presence in addition to what I feel for myself.”
Y/n follows my gaze, going quiet. At first I worry that I’ve upset her somehow, but a quick check into her emotions tells me that’s not it. She’s hesitant, nervous. I can feel her psyching herself up and, perhaps unethically, I push courage her way. I really want to know what she’s thinking.
She doesn’t look at me when she finally speaks. “How do you differentiate, then? Like, how do you know something you’re feeling is yours and not the influence of someone else?”
I pause, wanting to take the time to explain correctly. What she’s asking is valid, and something I considered often during my early days. “Everyone’s emotional climate is uniquely theirs. It’s more difficult to discern what’s mine and what’s not when I’m with a crowd of strangers, because I don’t know them well and can’t…” I struggle for the right word, “learn them, so to speak. But with people I’m around often, it’s as easy as breathing. If you’re upstairs and I’m in the basement and there’s a houseful of other people with their own emotions between us, and there’s a change in all of your emotions at the same time, I would know which was yours and which was Emmett’s and Esme’s and so on. Each of you has a distinct feel to you that I’ve become accustomed to. I don’t even have to think about it anymore.”
She nods, and I feel her fascination as well as her…tenderness?
Instinctively, I know that now is the right time. With great effort not to project my own nervousness onto her, I reach over and grab my backpack.
“I uh, got you something while I was out earlier.” Ugh, why do I sound like that? I find myself wishing there was someone out there to control my moods.
Y/n smiles shyly, her emotions indicating hesitancy and anticipation. Okay, nothing alarming.
“You did?”
I shake my head, suddenly feeling very shy myself. “It’s nothing special, just…well.” I take the jewelry box out of my bag and put it in her hands.
She gives me a quick, nervous glance before opening it, and then I suddenly feel much, much better about my decision.
She gasps in delight and her happiness overwhelms me. “Oh my gosh, Jasper…” She pulls the necklace out of the box and holds it up, allowing it to catch the light of the moon and sparkle.
The necklace is simple, really. The gold, braided chain is unassuming and the butterfly pendant, relatively small.
Her smile softens, as she strokes the butterfly carefully. “You remembered…”
And I did. All that time ago, when she had mentioned her love of emeralds, and a little later when she sat in awe as a flood of butterflies darted past us, I took note. I had gone to town hoping to find something to give her, not really having any idea what. The necklace practically smacked me in the face when I saw it, it being so perfect. And although she hadn’t mentioned liking diamonds, I figured it wouldn’t be bad to include just one, and the salesman agreed. We decided that the small, oblong diamond making up the body of the butterfly wouldn’t be ostentatious and wouldn’t take away from what made up the wings.
Y/n exhales, her disbelief apparent. “Jasper, are these real?” She holds the necklace closer to her face, getting a better look.
I rub the back of my neck, suddenly sheepish. Technically, yes, everything in the necklace is real, but I know to what she’s referring. Her attention is caught on the clusters of twinkling emeralds that make up the butterfly’s wings.
I nod, not trusting my voice.
Without warning, she throws her arms around me with a force that nearly knocks me to the ground. I grip her waist, steading us. She sinks deeper into the hug, nearly in my lap now, and I allow myself to wrap my arms around her and pull her close. I don’t want to move. I don’t want to do anything that could cause her to pull away because this is the most amazing thing I’ve felt since…since ever. Nothing has ever felt so right. Her emotions support my wild hope that she’s feeling the same way, that she’s enjoying being close to me as much I’m enjoying it with her. We stay like that for a while, and I let my head fall into her shoulder, taking in her scent. It’s comforting, and a little intoxicating. If hugging her is this wonderful, imagine-
And I stop myself right there. Y/n is still so young to this life, and it would be ridiculously wrong of me to burden her with my budding feelings. She has way too much to focus on right now without worrying about her best friend trying to get with her.
So I reign my emotions in, hoping I haven’t unintentionally projected anything onto Y/n. Her emotions tell me no, and that, thankfully, she hadn’t noticed my sudden shift in demeanor. I try to dispel my regret and pull back from the hug.
She’s smiling, and it’s a beautiful sight. I can at least allow myself to acknowledge that.
“Help me put it on?”
She turns and holds her hair up, giving me room to gently clasp the necklace in place. I make a special effort not to brush my fingers against her neck, knowing that would only torture me.
She sits next to me, holding the necklace carefully. “Thank you. I love it.” She means it, and it lightens my heart to know so.
We sit in comfortable silence, her admiring the gift and the night, and I admiring her. After a while, she pulls out the Harry Potter book, and I find myself grateful that she had the forethought to bring it. I lay back on the rock, enjoying the lilt to her voice as she reads softly. The Harry Potter’s are fine, really, but I wouldn’t have finished the series if we weren’t reading together. It’s just nice to enjoy the quality time.
Two chapters later, she turns to me with a grin. “Do you want to jump off the waterfall?”
Our excitement mingles and I can’t help the wide smile that spreads across my face. “Definitely.”
We stand, quickly pulling off our clothes so we’re in our bathing suits. I make sure to keep my gaze is respectful, desperately not wanting to freak Y/n out or make her feel uncomfortable. She, on the other hand, refuses to look at me, and my insecurities rush to the surface. I know my scars are bothering her.
But she holds out her hand, and that soothes the wound somewhat.
“You promise we won’t die?”
I chuckle, taking her hand in mine. “Promise.”
With that, we fling ourselves off the cliff.
Water hits us from all directions but, being virtually indestructible, it doesn’t cause any pain. It’s just fun.
Y/n laughs wildly as we fall, only stopping when we break the surface of the water. We sink deeply, and it’s a good thing we don’t need to breathe. As humans, we would never make it to the surface in time to get air.
Y/n releases my hand to swim deeper underwater, apparently intent on reaching the bottom. I follow, her excitement contagious. The bottom is rocky and slimy with algae, and she makes a face when her feet make contact. I burst out in laughter, the last remnants of my air escaping to the surface as bubbles. Y/n rolls her eyes in mock annoyance and reaches out to tug on a strand of my hair, which is long enough to float in the water. I only laugh though and push more water in her direction which, of course, does nothing. With an impish grin, she swims to the top, leaving me no choice but to follow.
She breaks the surface only a second before I do, gasping for air out of habit. “Being a vampire does have its perks.”
I wipe the water from my eyes. “I’m inclined to agree.”
The sky begins to lighten. I hadn’t realized how long we’d been here.
Her thoughts match mine. “We should head back soon. We’re already pushing the time needed to hunt and you,” she eyes me playfully, “still need to lighten those eyes.”
I nod with mock seriousness. “Yes, ma’am.”
The burst is so quick I almost miss it. Almost. For a split second, attraction becomes Y/n’s dominant emotion. But as soon as I notice it, it’s gone. I must’ve made it up or accidentally projected it onto her.  Whoops.
She smiles, feeling a bit nervous. “You ready?”
No. “Yes.” In all honesty, I would quite like to spend days here in the water with her. But, I agree that it will be suspicious if we stay away too much longer, so I get out of the water after her. I climb up to the top once more to get our stuff, then drop down beside Y/n.
She rolls her eyes without annoyance. “Show off.”
But I only grin and take her hand, feeling much more confident in the action now that she’s initiated it so many times. I feel her contentment, and can’t help but feel at home.
A/n Hello hello! Let me know what you think so far and if you would like to be added to the tag list!
xx, 
Bjr
Link to next part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/623756834957885440/the-long-way-around-chapter-9
Tag list: @puer-de-infinitate @charliestuff @hindustani-diaspora @one-thread-can-save-a-life @salsameter @meashy-moo @sana-li @enchantedcruelsummer @femflorals
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tragicallywicked · 4 years ago
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ENDLESS NOTHINGNESS
[ CHAPTER ONE ]
Words: 1,528 Genre: Romance/Drama Rated: Mature Pairing: Alice + Jasper Summary: From the moment they met Alice knew she would watch Jasper die despite every attempt she’s made to change the future. She’s still grieving him when she meets Charlotte, a powerful witch able to change the past. Alice will stop at nothing to bring him back—no matter what it costs.
READ ON AO3
PROLOGUE
— * —
We let the waters rise We drifted to survive I needed you to stay But I let you drift away
— * —
She’s alone again.
She’s used to loneliness.
Alice never particularly had a problem with being alone. Since the very start, it had been just her all long. When her mother brought her to the coven, a young witch discovering her gift, she had been fascinated, the most dedicated in her studies. But she was always alone, even in a coven. Alice was not like the others and that wasn’t simply for her impeccable learning skill and precognition—an ability so rare it gave away just how powerful Alice was going to be. She was a threat to the other’s in the coven, but she was the daughter of their leader so she was there. But Alice was always cast aside, no other witch ever willing to teach her. But she preferred it that way, unattended and left alone with her powers. It was easy for it all to become dull as she grew, for the incantations to be below her skillset. Was it so wrong that she sought for more, that she dug deeper?
After the mess was made and the other witches were gone, murdered by her draining their powers and their lives, Alice always wondered why her mother had that book in her possession, the book of the doomed. If Alice and the others weren’t allowed to study dark magic, why her mother had the book in the first place? For the one that was nearly burnt at the stake by her own coven, her people, good and evil were blurred lines, two sides of the same coin serving an equal purpose. Was she evil because she made magic bent to her power, to her inexplicably gifted self? Was she good because later she helped guide other witches unlike her coven had done to her? Alice thought there was no good and no bad, there were just those wanting to get ahead, and she always did.
They were all dead and gone now, Alice was a sorcerer unlike any other, and it was all ancient history. But nothing really matter, did it? Not when Jasper had just been killed before her, a vision she’d had the day they met all these years ago when he had walked through a portal right into her study, around 1703. Unbeknownst to the both of them, Alice had summoned him. Her magic pulled forces from different dimensions and portals opened at times. He came through a purple haze of magic that settled in her basement, with the incantation calling up to his awake, looking smug and mischievous, and ready to attack whatever had brought him there. She’d heard of the legends of the Gods, she had read and studied about Asgard but it still took her by complete surprised to see one there, first hand. She had recognized the clothing style from ancient books that drew and described how they carried themselves and when the man was quick to shift his appearance to something alike her dress code, Alice knew him to be a trickster, a God of mischief and deception.
Jasper had his own affairs on Earth, searching for a certain infinity stone he’d gotten word it was lost in the universe, but Alice’s magic had been a sudden unexpected passage to exactly where he needed to be. He was impressed because mortals normally didn’t possess such powers, especially not Earth borns. They were the most weak and ordinary of the universes. But there was nothing weak about Alice, and certainly nothing ordinary about their relationship. They hadn’t started with the right foot, but they fell with ease in the grace of bantering with one another. It wasn’t just the sex at same time it was frequently nothing but it.
 Her magic messed up with his, and the other way around wasn’t any different. So, many nights, for nearly a century, Jasper and Alice threw spells and curses at each other, until the clothes were gone and they were just two beings falling into the charming delicious feelings of the flesh.
He was a God in the most quintessential sense of the word, tall and blonde and absolutely breathtaking with the perfect nose and the squared jaw, the manners when he saw Alice was a sorcerer herself—and a lady. He could choose who he wished and she was a witch and she could bend people to her own liking (Alice had been, after all, extremely great at mind-control incantations), but it was the conflicting agendas that made all so exciting for the two of them. He  had introduced himself as Jasper, son of Carlisle, whom the world knew to be the father of Norse mythology. Her magic messed up with his, and the other way around wasn’t any different. So, many nights, for nearly a century, Jasper and Alice threw spells and curses at each other, until the clothes were gone and they were just two beings falling into the charming delicious feelings of the flesh. Alice, unlike the rest of humanity, was aware Norse Gods were no legend even before Jasper showed up. But what always had intrigued her was what and why Jasper had been summoned to her. None of her books gave her plausible explanations for their imminent attraction either, but more so than that, not a single one had prepared her—or them—for the arrival of Aro.
Alice knew from the very first time, from their first meet, that Jasper would be killed by Aro in front of her, strangled to death, and in all their years together there hadn’t been a time she saw that vision changing. But what she didn’t know then was just how important Jasper would become to her, how much she would feel his lost, how the pain would break her to pieces. And there was nothing she could do to bring him back. He wasn’t like the rest, that she had lost for the blip, Jasper had been killed before, during Aro’s search for the stones. There was no book, no incantation that would bring him fully back. Even necromancy wouldn’t work in that case—it would bring him to her, but it would never really be him, just a ghost of the man she loved.
Love. Alice never imagined she could love someone, especially not Jasper who had gotten on her nerve for so long, not him who had tricked her so many times. But she did, she had opened her iced heart for him and he’d stolen it mercilessly. And now he was dead, he had gone and gotten himself killed trying to protect her. She was alone again.
But it was all right, because Alice was used to loneliness.
Well… She had been used to loneliness.
The first time Alice feels something other than sorrow is a five years after the blip. She feels the shift on the universe when people are brought back, and she sees on the news, reports of all the missing people returning, the fallen reappearing. But this is different, only a few days after people are brought back, after the Avengers defeat Aro, it’s magic that Alice feels. And there’s a considerable difference on the energy of the stones and the incantations, a difference only witches with abilities like herself can tell. But the afterglow of so many spells cast all at once is too strong, it pulls her toward a power she wants, needs to acquire, because what else there’s for her? What else is she going to do with if not go back to being exactly the evil one everyone cast her to be.
But why were the spells being cast? She couldn’t make heads and tails of it, not even after coming to Westview to find two Avengers—one who had presumably been dead before the blip and the other that had disappeared with it—living a perfect nineteen-fifties life, full of costumes and strange situations. It was like Charlotte was in a sort of trance and Alice didn’t know, nor couldn’t ask, how she’d done it. But she needed it, oh she needed it badly. Power was everything Alice had now that Jasper was gone, and she was going to take it away from Charlotte the same way she’d taken from so many other sorcerers along the line. But something happened, it stopped her. A vision of herself and Jasper, together again. It took her breath away entirely, how vivid and strong it was, she could capture every single detail of it, and one was a fallen Charlotte on the ground. She wasn’t in any fifties clothing and by the looks of it not in Westview at all.
Alice wasn’t quite sure yet how, but het gut told her she had to investigate further before she actually took action into taking Charlotte’s powers, especially if that meant it could bring Jasper back. She do would just anything for him to be brought to life, even if it meant ending Charlotte’s life. Nothing, and no one, was going to stop them from being together again.
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srose-foxfire · 4 years ago
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“First Impressions” Part 2 ~Damirae Short Fic~
Part 1    
A/N: Hello! I apologize for the long wait for part two of this short fic. I can’t tell you how much I had to rewrite this piece before being happy with it. I wanna give you all my best work! Also this fic will follow a timeline so the next update will be around Thanksgiving week. Won’t keep you any longer and so enjoy!
P.S: Next week I will be releasing another Damirae fic where a certain character will be portrayed as a singer. 👀
Part: 2 ⬇️
His damn stomach wouldn’t stop growling all morning, but Damian manage to last a little after lunchtime. He calculated and planned all possible scenarios that could or wouldn’t happen once he went to the kitchen. Damian rather starve than have to face his sister’s friend, Raven for causing her such a fright. Needless to say, he was also avoiding his family, seeing how both Cass and Jason reacted last night proved he wouldn’t hear the end of it from last night’s incident.
Still in bed, Damian rolled grumbling and running his hands over his face. He couldn’t believe it in himself that he would cause such fear to someone. True, he didn’t mind his siblings fearing him but Raven… gosh Raven was different. He found her cross-legged in the library, doing a very late-night reading. It very much intrigued him to find someone who would enjoy literature as much as him. Damian turned onto his back and close his eyes; picturing how she looked -minus the frighten face – in her overly large purple hoodie. Her skin almost pearl-like, smooth like an opal stone, and her eyes. They were a pair amethyst that seemed to hold vast galaxies within them. Damian had to wonder if Raven was the type to dream and look at the world in a different perspective. He wanted to know more of her, but that felt like a task he wouldn’t be able to accomplish after his actions last night.
Why his siblings or even Alfred hadn’t mentioned to him there was a guest staying at the manor was beyond him. His train of thought was interrupted by when his stomach growled very loudly removing all silence in his room. The young Wayne let out a heavy sigh got dressed in a pair of black sweats and a black tank top. Damian decided to relieve his frustrations out on a punching bag in the manor’s gym. Hopefully he wouldn’t find none of his brothers in there later.
Damian arrived into the kitchen adorned with marble wooden cabinets. The counters were all covered by gold tone mosaics. First thing he went straight towards was the pitcher of black coffee, Damian wasn’t a fan but right now he needed caffeine in his system to get him through the day. He took a sip when-
“Would you like me to pass you the cream?”
Damian choked on his coffee, making him slip some back into his mug, the rest falling on the counter and floor. He set his mug down, then turn to find Raven standing behind the kitchen island, with toasted bagel in one hand and a butter knife smeared with what appeared to be cream cheese.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” Raven said as she ran around the counter with two kitchen rags to help clean his mess.
Using the back of his hand Damian wiped his mouth and used the rag Raven handed him to wipe the counter and floor of his little spill. “I think I deserved that, I did scare you last night and I will like to apologize again for my unruliness.”
“I told you it’s okay.” Raven said as she bended down and help him clean up. “You didn’t know who I was or that there was a guest in your home. I would had done the same if I thought a stranger was inside my home.” Their fingertips just barely touched, making them both look into each other’s eyes for a brief moment. Raven looked away and stood up, with Damian following after her. In that brief moment, Damian could have sworn his heart had left him, leaving him utterly defenseless before her. They just stood there, no one doing nothing, not a sound escaped either of them. All that could be heard in the room was their breathing.  
Taking a moment to take in her appearance, Raven was wearing black long sleeve, tucked into a dark purpled plaid skirt that just rested above her knees. She was wearing some black ankle boots with a silver chain wrapped around the ankle. His gaze was brought back up to her face when he heard Raven clear her voice. He could feel his damn face flushed, as Raven’s own gazed kept fidgeting to the sides to the awkward silence that had befallen between them. Damian cleared his throat, “what are you doing?”
“Toasting bagels for your sisters and I.” They hadn’t had lunch?Unaware of his internal question, Raven turned around and headed back to her little station. Picking up the butter knife and spreading the remainder of cream cheese on it blade onto a now-very-cold bagel, Raven looked up to him. “You want one? I know you missed breakfast.”
“Sure,” Damian answered as he picked up his cup of coffee and went over to the kitchen island. He stood there taking another sip and just looked at her being in her own little trance. As she grabbed a bagel from the bag, split it in half and popped it into the toaster behind her. Raven walked around the kitchen grabbing a small flat plate for him to use. Damian couldn’t help but smiled and chuckled silently as he continues watching her. “I am surprised you are allowed to use the kitchen. Pennyworth doesn’t allow any of us to be in here. One of the main reasons being; one of my brothers actually burned the kitchen down once.”
“Seriously?” Raven lifted a brow towards him as the toaster jingle it’s tune and popping the bagel out. Raven grabbed them and place them on the plate she had brought, spreading on thin layer of cream cheese on either bagel. “Actually, I helped Alfred with dinner the first time I was brought to the manor. Afterwards he gave me permission to use the kitchen whenever I wanted to since I like cooking with my mom.” She lightly slid the plate over to him.
Damian grabbed the warm bagel in his hand and took a big bite. His stomach doing weird turns for finally having some food in his system. “Mm… this is really good.”
“It’s nothing too fancy just a toasted bagel with cream cheese.” Raven said politely shrugging at him. Damian took another bite make some cheese spill from the corner of his mouth.
“You got some-” Raven pointed to her own mouth, but instead of finishing her statement went ahead and grabbed a napkin from the counter; lightly patting his mouth from the cheese. Damian had gone still as a statue. They were so close, just a few inches apart. He looked down at her as she focused on cleaning him. Her actions were timid, but they held a sense like she wanted to explore the boy before her, and Damian would allow her to do such that. He so badly wanted to feel her touch against his skin, in that moment a thought crossed his mind to remove the napkin from her hand and just let her press her warm delicate hand on his face.
“Rae-rae what’s taking you so long?”
Both Raven and Damian jerked away from each other at the sound of Cassandra’s voice interrupting the silence that befallen once more in the kitchen. Raven quickly turned around and headed back to where she had a bagel waiting to be spread. Damian shot a glared at his older sister, who was sporting almost an exact copy of Raven’s outfit except hers were a combination of blacks and gold hues. She came to Raven’s side and hugged her from behind, resting her head on Raven’s shoulder as she continues to finish making their meals.
Damian cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest, “you know she isn’t your butler you could each have made your own bagel?”
Cass only raised a brow at him, giving him a stern look; “so could have you.” Well she got him there. “Besides I’m still very upset with you for what you did to Raven last night.”
This time Raven sighed, as she placed the third finished bagel onto a large flat plate and turning to face his sister. “Cass, Damian already apologized, and I forgave him.”
“Well you might, but I doubt your boyfriend will forgive my rude brother.”
“Boyfriend?!” Damian didn’t mean to choke again, this time with the bite he taken on his bagel. He also didn’t mean to shout abruptly the first thing that crossed his mind. Raven was already seeing someone.He felt he was gonna be sick as his stomach did weird turns.
Both Raven and Cass eyed him curiously, his sister crossed her arms and leaned her body to one side, “what did you expect? A nice girl like Rae, has to have a boyfriend already. His name is Jasper Sky.” Cass started walking towards Damian, she stopped just in front of him and poke at his chest before continuing. “If I were you, I watched my back. Jasper was part of a juniors wrestling team, and from what Raven told us he is the perfect boyfriend. He such a gentle man, loves the same hobbies as Rae, and is very protective of her. So, you’re screwed once he finds out about last night’s incident.”
With that Cass turned around and pulled Raven along with her with the plate of bagels. Raven shot him a quick apologetic glance before turning towards the doors that lead to the stairwell towards the bedrooms. Once the door closed behind them, Damian just stood there with the half-eaten bagel still in his hand. His body wouldn’t function as his brain was still wrapping around the information he was just provided.
Raven was taken. Raven was already taken. Images of her wrapping her arms warmly around someone else, Raven leaning against this other person, and stealing a kiss from one another. So many thoughts were running across his mind, it felt the world was spinning to fast around him and he no longer had his center to balance everything out. But why was he acting like this Jasper Sky guy had stolen something from him? He wasn’t Raven’s friend -though he wished he was- nor her boyfriend so why the hay was he acting so jealous at the thought she was spending time with Jasper? Who is even named Jasper Sky?The name sounded utterly foolish to say the least, but foolish or not this guy had captured Raven’s heart and that pain him greatly.
Losing his appetite with the severe twists his stomach was doing inside of him, Damian tossed the bagel away and dropped the rest of his coffer down the sink’s drain. He groined in annoyance and ran his hand down his face as he headed towards the manor’s gym, where he would let out all his frustrations against a helpless punch bag.
Why did the universe decide to torture him like this, he had to wonder.
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