#interactions || ft. tbd

[seolinah]

closed for @mycrymes for liking this post // ft. damian + muse of your choice

The idea of moving out of the town he grew up in looked more appealing with every passing day. Dealing with some of the customers, especially the ones that knew him and his colorful past, made it nearly impossible. Yes, his soul purpose in working at his parents' place of business was to screw them out of their money. "Like I said, those particular flowers are out of season right now. In order to get them, we'd have to order them from out of state which is why it'd cost that much..." Damian explained again, holding in a sigh. "I can recommend something similar if you prefer, but I can't change the price on this."

[awalkoflife-arc]

continued from ( x ) with @seesgood / carrison.

there's no way he could have prepared for this, the welcome home from her that's somehow a culmination of every single emotion he's felt in her absence. ❝ care, you don't understand --- ❞ he pauses, chokes a little on the words that he can't bring himself to say yet. she's touching him and it's like their bodies are trying to reconnect; to make up for all the time that's been lost, a collision of fingertips and palms, gripping and pulling and stroking, fighting to feel each other again. whether or not they can admit it though, they aren't those kids anymore. he isn't safe to be around her and deep down, it's something that he's always known. harrison morgan was a ticking fucking time bomb. all of that rage and fury and frustration, the desire for violent confrontation, managed effectively by wrestling, it evolved into something much, much worse. ❝ you don't know --- ❞ what i've done. who i am. how fucked up my life is. how could he even begin to tell her? how was he supposed to look her in the eyes and confess to being a monster?

burying the truth is something he'll have to live with for now because in this moment, he doesn't possess the strength to push her away. he never has. he can't let go of her, his body won't physically allow it so he succumbs to her. to the warmth of her hands, the delicate press of her hips against his, the way her hug is managing to comfort him in ways he hasn't experienced since they last found themselves in close proximity like this. harrison's arms pull her closer, his heartbeat rising in his chest when the scent of her skin, her perfume, washes over him in waves. ❝ c'mere. ❞ he wraps his arms tighter around her, indulging in the pure and blissful sensation of her presence. when she asks him if he's okay, she already knows the answer. they both do. just like he knows that she isn't okay. the second she was back in his embrace, he could sense it. her eyes didn't ever lie, even now, after all this time.

❝ shouldn't you be at college? ❞ it feels like a stupid, insignificant question, one that doesn't actually matter under the circumstances. he's assuming that she stuck to all of the plans she made back in high school; move out, study, party, enjoy single life with audrey. the thought of his ex-girlfriend doesn't even arouse any guilt. it solidifies the fact that he's no longer a good person, but was he ever? the night he slept with his best friend while his girlfriend stayed home was perhaps an even bigger indication of what kind of person he was. harrison's thumb trails lightly across caroline's bottom lip, the texture of her skin soft underneath his touch. he recalls that very night and the morning after.... how they never did get a chance to speak about any of it. he wonders if she regrets it, or if like him, it lives inside of her like a sacred oath. an understanding that their relationship meant so much more than either of them ever chose to acknowledge. you're okay. she sounds so certain that she can take control of it for him, much like she used to whenever he needed her. they threw each other a lifeline, time and time again, for anything, for everything, they were always saving each other but this, there was no coming back from it. his finger moves from her lip to her jaw, her own delicate touch through his hair and across his face allowing him to breathe a little lighter. ❝ you still trying to take care of everyone and fight their fuckin' battles? ❞ it's a rhetorical question, followed by a real one. ❝ who's taking care of you? ❞

[thegcng-arch]

[ injury ] a careful kiss on a partner's wound to make it all better. ( jeong-u to dennis. )

okay  so  i  might  have  over  reacted  a  little  bit.  i  had  just  been  so  fucking  angry.   honestly,  this  was  an  improvment  if  i  really  looked  hard  at  it.   usually  my  fist  would  connect  with  someones  face,   or  i'd  at  least  scratch  someone's  face  to  shit.   this  time  my  fist  had  just  connected  with  a  wall.   better  than  one  of  the  gang's  cheekbones,   but  my  knuckles  sure  hurt  like  a  bitch.   i  don't  bother  to  hide  the  wince  as  i  flex  my  hand,   clenching  and  unclenching  my  fist.  "oh,   goddamn."   i  mumble  to  myself  with  a  shake  of  my  head. 

my  brow  raises  when  i  feel  the  others  hand  grab  mine.  "jeong-u,   what  are  you  doing?"  the  question  tumbles  out  of  my  mouth  but  he's  still  moving  my  hand  upwards,   only  stopping  once  it  reaches  his  lips.   i  take  a  few  seconds  to  take  in  the  situation,   eyes  blinking  as  i  stand  silently  and  fully  process.  he  just  kissed  my  knuckles  ...  trying  to  soothe  my  pain.  "you  uh  -  you  don't  have  to  do  that." i  don't  pull  my  hand  away.  "it's  fine  it  ...  it  doesn't  hurt  that  much."

@poltergei

[antihcroes]

open starter: state of grace open to: anyone

"love is a ruthless game unless you play it good and right."

[entrepy]

[  SING  ]  for  your  muse  to  sing  to  my  muse  /  song  or  lullaby   ( so about that singer au with bucky and sharon .... ) / @whitesuited .

The writing session goes well into the night. Somewhere around two in the morning they’ve wandered so far off topic, Bucky’s old touring stories are starting to come out and Bucky’s on the right side of his high to let them. The room is full of nostalgia, people pulled from places of Sharon’s past coming together to help fill her next album. Bucky hadn’t realised how many of those people overlapped with people of his own past. It makes sense that their first session had derailed so drastically with so much to catch up on — but they were better for it. He was better for it. 

It was good seeing Sharon again. They’d only reconnected a few months ago — one of Bucky’s works catching Sharon’s attention ( or maybe it was her manager’s — he still didn’t know ) which went onto become a single that would feature in the album she was now working on. He wasn’t sure whether she remembered the last time they’d met — a good decade or so ago, when they’d both been young in the world, and the industry. Before Bucky’s fall from fame, and Sharon’s rise to it. 

Around three, the room begins to empty. Excuses muttered about calling it a night, early mornings the next day, Gabe’s pregnant fiancé calling him with midnight applesauce cravings . . . Leaving Bucky and Sharon alone surrounded by half empty bottles and thinning smoke. The solitude doesn’t really hit until the door closes behind Gabe with a soft click, and the room previously filled with laughter and singing turns silent. He hasn’t been alone in a room with Sharon since  . . . their last opening act together over a decade ago. He thinks about those couple of weeks on the road from time to time — one of those unresolved moments in life that have neither beginning or ending, question or answer. There was a song Sharon had released a few years later that made Bucky think perhaps she had felt the same way — but he’d told himself that it couldn’t possibly have been about him. He’d watched Sharon’s career take off in the headlines on the side-lines; it didn’t make sense that she had her sights on the rear-view mirror like he did.

The air tenses a little with just the two of them left. They’d ended up on the couch together, but without Brian on the other end of it, Sharon’s shoulder leaning against his, her hair fanning over his chest, felt more intimate than it had been two minutes ago. It doesn’t feel wrong — though the glance they share is a little shy and maybe awkward and it takes Bucky back ten years to when they were both barely twenty dancing around each other backstage and finding reasons to get into each other’s space. He gives a little laugh — ‘ Come here, ’ he murmurs quietly, taking one last sip of his whiskey before placing the glass on the floor. He lifts his left arm up onto the back of the couch so the prosthesis is out of the way and slinks deeper into the couch, more horizontal and more comfortable for Sharon to lay against. 

It was almost four and they’ve been at it for hours. Bucky has no intention of mustering up the energy to go home — at least not right away. There’s no one waiting for him there anyway, and here . . . Well, here there is Sharon. The quiet rumble of the last melody they’d been working on hums in his throat. He closes his eyes against the dim gold lighting that reaches the corner of the room the couch was in, breathing against the subtle scent of Sharon’s shampoo that has survived the musk of smoke, her hair tickling his cheek. They hadn’t worked out all the lyrics to the melody they were working with — Bucky still fiddling around with chords and none of them in much of an agreeable mood. The words had been left in the air, but they come to Bucky now as he lays, eyes closed, drowning in nostalgia.  ‘ So you’re scared and alone . . . on the couch and you’re stoned . . . ’ He starts with a soft laugh, but there isn’t anything particularly funny — just disbelief that he was taking a leap he’d shied away from 10 years ago. He sings so quietly his voice catches here and there, scratchy yet soothing, scatting through the time he takes to think, to pick the words like apples from trees. ‘ You’re longing to feel . . . nothing that’s real. You kept me on the li-ne, never closer to be-ing mine . . . Remember the last light fading, remember the end . . . Remember the way I look at you . . . the way you looked at me . . . then. ’ 

His breathing is even but his heart races, eyes half opening to the world again, not really able to make out Sharon’s face from this angle. Out of a mixture of nervousness and embarrassment for having gotten too raw he goes back to humming, fingertips fidgeting discreetly in Sharon’s hair. If he was lucky — she would have fallen asleep five minutes ago.    

[wildernesslaughtered]

@ofvalor // continued !!

Jackie can't help the flush of concern. "are you sure you're okay?" Her hand traces the notches of Lottie's spine, settling softly on her waist. She leans forward, tucking her chin against the curve of Lottie's neck as Lottie leans back against her. She turns her head to press against her cheek. "is there anything i can do to help it pass quicker? water? an advil? have you eaten anything today? i could make you something."

Her coddling comes crashing to a halt, however, as the proposition hovers between them. Her heart picks up. Logically, she knows it's a genuine offer. And she wants to. She wants to so bad it burns through her. But right now? She feels like a little kid, with her mother dangled an ice cream in front of her with a smile then berated her for accepting. Jackie's life has been a character study in RESTRAINT, and even if she's learning to let go, well, old habits die hard.

Her teeth sink into her lower lip. her silence speaks volumes. BE BRAVE, JACQUELINE. she lets the tension leak out with a slow breath, and a nod.

"Yea ... if ... if you're sure, that sounds nice."

[empyrcals]

There is a gentle pout accompanied with a soft huff, more than a sigh but less then a gentle groaning. Such a sound was near enough the call of a slender black cat curling about the shoulders of a woman made of sunshine showing vague disappointment and contentment all at once. Giving a knowing look Zehra replied in a soft whisper. "I would be surprised if there is no book you haven't read at least once. Maybe even books on ancient magic - you mind it something to marvel at. Our library in Velaris is ever-growing. At this point I am fairly certain our home finds your new books simply materializing them from thin air just to watch your face light up when reading it for the first time. You will have a stack waiting for you" Zehra spoke again before rounding the couch to sit beside her sister-in-law. "My day, dreadfully dull, unfortunately," Zehra teased gently with a scrunch of her nose, settling in there in cushions, crossing one leg over the other. "I jest, sweet sister, meetings, circling about training with other courts and helping our high lord toward a solution to free us from this captivity. Exciting in some ways. I did have a moment to speak with my betrothed. I would love to see him in Velaris for Starfall.. Do you imagine he would enjoy it?"

The warmness in the other ignites the light inside of the lady of the night, she smiles slightly brighter and her eyes seem to shine like the stars of the city of velaris. "it is unfortunately one we have already read, i could not seem to find anything new in the library that caught my eyes. and you know me, i like reading things over and over." she admits sheepishly, looking up at her through her lashes. "although i don't seem to focus in more than one sentence, my mind drifts to the happenings even when i try to relax." she pats the book before setting aside, setting herself in a sitting position and tapping the place next to her. "tell me about your day, i hope it was more exiting than mine."

[seolinah]

closed for @mycrymes for liking this post // ft. carina + muse of your choice

"I'm just saying, you deserve better. They're a walking red, fucking flag, and that's coming from me." There was a reason she shied away from relationships, mostly because they fizzled out quicker than a dying candle, but even Carina could see everything that was wrong in their relationship. "But whatever. Take my advice, don't take my advice. Just know that they aren't worth the drama."

[awalkoflife-arc]

+ closed starter for @wynterlanding !

“You drive like my abuela, no offence.” Sam comments, stealing a glance at Landon from the passenger seat. It's not that she isn't grateful for the ride, but they're definitely lagging due to his speed --- or lack thereof --- and at this rate, she knows they're bound to be late for their check-in. “If you want me to take over, I can.” She offers, considering they've been driving for three hours already. He's not entirely what she was expecting. Landon Wynter; one of Hollywood's resident and rising stars. Sam knew of him before he got in touch and was familiar with some of his feature film work. Tara was immediately excited, probably a little more than she should have been, since the majority of what she knew about the filmmaker, she learned from E! News. More specifically, his relationship with Emeline Entwistle.

Sam didn't read into any of that, though. He was still just a guy, trying to make a living. The world of celebrity didn't phase her and Landon was no exception, no matter how big of a deal he was. Admittedly though, she was intrigued as to what his specific fascination was regarding her life, or rather, her father's life. Billy Loomis wasn't a figure to be celebrated, or even acknowledged and yet, she was alive because of him. In truth, she still struggled to accept that part of herself, the part that was inherently him, the part that murdered her ex-boyfriend two years ago. He'd hardly left her with any other choice though, after turning out to be a raging, psychotic maniac. “Seriously though, I appreciate the ride. Are you sure you're not tired?”

[antihcroes]

open starter: this love open to: anyone

"this love left a permanent mark."

[entrepy]

🪀 Steve doesn’t have to try very hard to imagine Bucky’s words as he speaks them. There are plenty of memories of himself on a hospital bed with doctors and nurses hovering around him, his mother and Bucky somewhere in the background, always. He remembers one bout of pneumonia, the winter after his mother died. It was the only time he’d been to the hospital without her. He’d stayed there for two weeks while the doctors tried to clear his lungs, bring him out of a critical state, and he still, to this day, doesn’t know how Bucky managed to pay off the bill after he finally managed to kick the virus. The doctors had said something about a miracle when he’d tried to thank them, brushing off their own efforts as if it wasn’t medicine and skilled work but an act of God that had finally helped Steve pull through. After his mother’s death, Steve’s visits to church had slowly dropped off. His faith along with it. His faith had always been in his mother’s preachings anyway, rather than the pastor’s. Steve hadn’t believed a miracle was possible . . . but now, he’s not so sure. 

Steve had died. The Steve in this time, and in this universe had died. Which means that the portal that Steve had stepped into on Bleecker Street had done more than send him through time — it had taken him into a different reality. One where he had died before he’d even got to the war. Perhaps, when he was meant to. 

‘ I — I didn’t know. ’ He doesn’t know what to say. Bucky is hurting and there wasn’t anything Steve could do to take it away. That’s how he’s always viewed problems — facing them head on, finding the solution, erasing them. He’s never been able to help Bucky in the same way. Not when he fell from the train, not when he was taken by Hydra, not when Thanos came after him and half the people in the universe. Steve feels equally helpless now. In their youth, it had almost always been Bucky who had come to save the day. Pick Steve up after a street fight or send his attackers packing. Comforted him when the burdens of his illness got to be too much, despite Steve never vocalising it. Looked after him after his mother passed away. Even during the war — Bucky was the first person to call him Captain America as the symbol that actual soldiers would believe in, instead of the dancing monkey he’d been painted as up until that point. 

‘ I know you would have done everything you could, ’ Steve finally says quietly. ‘ You always do, even though it wasn’t up to you. ’ Everyone’s got a lease on life, but Steve had felt it more than most people. Despite that, and despite being difficult to love, Bucky had always been there. Bucky had never let Steve down — not the way that Steve was constantly letting him down. ‘ I’m sorry that I — he . . . died, ’ and winces because of how awful that sounded. ‘ I mean — I’m sorry that it happened. That you didn’t get . . . even half the life you could have had together. That, sorry, that sounds terrible. I’m just — I have a lot to tell you, Bucky, if you’re willing to hear me out. Maybe we can sit down ? And, and I could make you a cup of tea? Or cocoa ? ’ 

&& maavel // steve.

He feels big in the apartment, big in Bucky’s space. The last time he’d been here he’d been a foot shorter and probably half as wide. He’d never thought he’d be back here.

Bucky looks alive up close. It’s dim in the apartment, lights a homey gold. Cold but that makes it even more normal. Like he’d never left. Except he had. Handed the keys back over to his landlord the day he’d set off for basic training and never looked back. Hadn’t ever needed to look back until he got to the war and everyone else, including Bucky, started talking about what they were going to do once the war was over. After he’d woken up from the ice, it seemed like the only thing he ever did was look back. Relying on memories to dream of a future, unable to let go of something he could never have. There had been a brief moment, in the new century, when he’d stopped looking back, started looking forward. When he’d found Bucky, when Shuri woke him up from yet another deep sleep and made him free. The world had been filled with possibility in that moment, in the way that it hadn’t been for Steve in a long, long time … But of course, that, too, was short lived.

He doesn’t blame Bucky for being nervous. Afraid, even. Stumbling over his words in a way that he’d rarely seen. There was something … unexpected about Bucky. It’s been a long time since Steve has remembered Bucky from this time, but those memories were still visited frequently enough for Steve know that Bucky was still different. Tired. Lost. Defeated.

‘ Bucky, no, I’m — ’ By all accounts, Steve — or at least Bucky’s Steve — should be somewhere in this apartment. In the bedroom asleep or hunched over a book. Steve casts a glance down the hall. It’s all dark apart from the living area where they stand. Quiet, except for a few cars Steve can hear on the street below, and the occasional creaking of the old building. Steve swallows past the lump of concern growing in his throat. The tears down Bucky’s cheeks cut into him like glass piercing skin, and every fibre of his being, every instinct yearns to reach out to him and comfort him. But he couldn’t — not yet. He hasn’t earned the right, nor the trust yet and the last thing he wants to do is make Bucky even more afraid. ‘ What do you mean, Bucky? What do you mean, I’m dead ? ’

Guilt swallows him up as he says the words to this..whatever it is..of Steve standing in front of him. Bigger. Healthy. Alive. Maybe it’s some sorta ghost. Some figment of his imagination. One he dreamt up out of some kinda sleep deprived haze to talk to and say he was sorry to for another dozenth time since they lost the war that was for Steve’s life. Again, he looks him over. Can’t help it. Steve’s even taller than him and he’s gotta look up and he’d find that so damn funny if he could feel anything other than remorse. Remorse so fucking deep that he can barely breathe. 

His brows slowly raise. Questioning as he pulls on the tattered sleeve of a threadbare sweater he’s wearing. Small details. His clothing isn’t as pristine as he used to keep it in spite of how little they had. He doesn’t really care to make sure it’s mended by the sweet older lady down the hall that he pays in money, food or chores for hems and stitches and presses. Still brings her things she needs, though. Doesn’t need her going without simply because he’s this way (as he puts it.). Covering his knuckles, he uses the wool to wipe his cheeks dry, flashes a smile that means nothing other than a means of showing he’s okay when he’s far from it and licks his lips like he’s attempting to taste the words he’s mixing together in hopes they make sense. Or won’t be a mess. He’ll take that.

“What do you mean..what do I mean?” His hand doesn’t go far, fingers find his neck and scratch at his Adam’s apple then wrap around to cup the back of it. Self-soothing. Or attempts at it. “Your heart, your lungs. Docs said pneumonia. Did a hell of a job on you. Your body started giving out.. I told ‘em to fix you. That you’d pull through and if they gave up, they were being stupid.. Said they were doing all they could. I don’t know,” slender shoulders hitch and he palms over his face (fingers trembling) before his hand falls then corrects itself as if he sensed the quaking and both arms wrapped around his chest tight enough that his hands weren’t seen.

“Didn’t feel like they were..”

There’s a damn near pleading tone in his voice. “I wouldn’t let them stop until they carried me outta there, you gotta believe me. Told me they were gonna put me in jail. They didn’t but it was only cause Becky stood up and said not to,” frustration drips in his tone and he swallows rough.

“That’s what I mean..”

[entrepy]

[  GRAPPLE  ]  for  your  muse  to  wrestle  mine  down  to  the  floor  or  against  the  wall ( bucky ) / @prettybrawler .

The open cab pick up Ford reverses down the long driveway that runs alongside the Barnes garage at five in the afternoon on a Sunday like it does every second week without fail. Bucky’s had his eye on the new driver for a while now. They’ve exchanged words before — not exactly pleasantries — but mostly stick to their jobs. George Barnes had run a struggling, yet respectable business up until the enforcement of the 18th amendment. Then the bootleggers had come knocking . . . and then the gangs . . . and before they knew it the garage was turned into a front for the storage and exchange of alcohol, weapons, and any manner of goods that the gangs saw fit to push through the shop. 

Bucky’s father stopped having a say in the matter soon thereafter, extorted and threatened . . . but also protected. Bucky didn’t understand how bad it really was until he dropped out of his second last year of school a year after the stock market crash and started working day in and out at the shop with his dad. A veteran of war, his father was the bravest, strongest, most powerful man Bucky knew — but he learned very quickly that didn’t much matter when money and influence was involved, and that learning came with nursing his own father’s split lip, black eye and broken rib after a round with the mob. 

He’s greasy from a day’s work, cigarette hanging from his lip as he uses both hands to roll around and stack tyreless wheels in the back yard. He straightens when he hears the engine and trundle of tyres down the dirt path and the cab backs into the yard, accompanied by a rude couple of honks. It’s distasteful is what it is and Bucky is already irked by the Byrone kid’s simple existence. There was just something about him. Another pretty boy. Bucky’s seen that smile of his, and he’s seen it in his own goddamned mirror. Maybe that should make them friends, but all it does is set Bucky on edge whenever that blonde head of hair shows up in his driveway on a Sunday afternoon. 

He pauses with the wheels for a second, watching the cab come to a stop in front of the wooden crates that he’s supposed to load up into the back. He takes the moment to drag in a few breaths of smoke, free hand on his hip and squinting a little against the evening sun. It was a hot, stinky day and Bucky’s got the burn and sweat to show for it. ‘ There’s no need for a ruckus, hotshot. Neighbours can hear you rolling up here just fine. ’

Through to the end of his cigarette, he spits it to the ground, stamps it down and walks over to the crates. It’s not his business to know what’s in them – what’s really in them, that is. He’d had to pack old, rusted parts that were due for the wreckers into them, covering up the smaller crates that stood inside, and painted the address of the wreckers on the side and filled out the books with the same address, but he’s seen enough to know that’s not where this crate was going to end up at all. He turns around to see Byrone standing just outside the driver’s door. ‘ What’re you doing ? Give me a hand, would ya ? ’ 

He watches through squinted eyes as Byrone takes out a pack of cigarettes and starts to light himself one.

‘ I aint’ movin’ these myself, pal, ’ Bucky points out, hands falling to his hips, feet set in the ground very tellingly. 

‘ Well, it ain’t my job, ’ Byrone chews through the end of his cigarette, the audacity to appear bored. 

‘ It ain’t my job either, but you’ll be going home with an empty car if you don’t pull your weight, ya unlicked cub. Ma never taught you manners ? ’

For a moment it seems like he’d struck a nerve, and the beginnings of guilt start to grow in the pit of Bucky’s stomach, but then Caed smirks, blows out his smoke and says, ‘ No. Can I learn from yours ? ’

For feet that had been planted to the ground, unwilling to move until Byrone cooperated, they sure move fast – the run up making the force with which Bucky’s fist slams into the side of Caed’s jaw almost bone shattering, the fact that the only place his head has to go after the impact is the steel of the car probably not helping with the imminent concussion. He slips to the ground, and Bucky gets a few more hits in, kneeling over him with one hand fisted into his shirt to keep him lifted off the ground enough for his head to swing with each punch before Caed recovers from the first hit to start fighting back.  

[qoqurt]

₊˚ʚ 🌱 ₊˚✧ ﾟ. FALLIN’ FLOWER (au masterlist)

❝ the place where my fallen heart has reached ; is definitely the happiest place in the world. ❞

pairing : ethan edwards + luke hughes x fem!oc

summary : read all about daisy and her university woes <3

find everything daisy under #₊˚⊹ ᰔ daisy

find everything about her and her lovers under #‹𝟹 : michigan’s finest

this series is my first interactive au! so please feel free to send any asks or requests in 🩷

𝜗𝜚 ⋆ GENERAL INFO .ᐟ

about daisy ahn (profile)

three is the PERFECT amount, actually (daisy luke and ethan relationship analysis)

family ties (about daisy and her siblings)

bring your own best friend (daisy and her friends)

sunghoon

stella

drea

ahn on the air .ᐟ (daisy’s radio show)

daisy online .ᐟ (a visual breakdown of daisy’s online accounts)

( more tbd .. )

𝜗𝜚 ⋆ BLURBS .ᐟ

𝜗𝜚 ⋆ FICS .ᐟ

midnight fiction .ᐟ (or the one where daisy can’t sleep)

𝜗𝜚 ⋆ ASKS .ᐟ

at the nhl awards

daisy, luke, n stella

𝜗𝜚 ⋆ SOCIAL MEDIA AUS .ᐟ

birthday girl .ᐟ ( gift for roro @wintfleur )

feeling 22 .ᐟ ( or the one about ethan and his lovers on his bday )

disney on ice .ᐟ ( stella and daisy visit an old pal )

play nice (“you could’ve been nicer to me today” text prank ft. various of daisy’s contacts)

𝜗𝜚 ⋆ EXTRA .ᐟ

daisy’s pinterest

daisy’s spotify playlist

ahn on the air playlist

the lovers card ( daisyethanluke fluff alphabet )

[chimcess]

Nachash || jhs (teaser)

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader (ft. Taehyung) Genre: Supernatural AU, Demon!Hoseok, Med Student!Reader, Incubus! Hoseok, Horror AU, Thriller, Mystery, angst, smut Rating: 18+ (don’t interact if you’re a minor) Word Count: TBD (~25-35k) Release Date: Oct. 31st Summary: After the loss of both of her parents, Y/N decided to sell their home in Florida and move back to New York City, a place that she has little memories of despite spending 10 years in medical school there. With her return comes a spark of romance with a sweet man who gives her a strange sense of Deja vu. Her world begins to shift, and she begins to lose sight of dreams and reality. At the center of it all is Hoseok, his warm smiles and gentle kisses. But she can’t help but wonder if he is who he says he is and why a strange bar keeps popping up in her nightmares. Warnings: Strong language, death mentioned, terminal illnesses, bad medical terminology (I tried), Hoseok has a demon side (like physically different), Explicit sexual content, vaginal fingering, oral (f & m receiving), dirty talk, rough sex, manhandling, Inexperienced!Reader, Good girl reader, hard dom Hoseok, Hoseok is a menace, he’s also very sus, so much blood, low-key a yandere but not really, DARK ENDING, dubious consent (kind of mind control/mood control/memory wiping), main character death (graphic), graphic violence, this is not a cute demon romance, more to come...

    nachash (noun) "snake; serpent". Derived from the Hebrew root n-ch-sh.

 After graduation, the dreams stopped. I stayed with my parents for the summer, played in the Florida sun, and decided against going back to New York for my fellowship. Instead, I chose to stay in Tallahassee and start my career. It was safe there. He was gone. A few years later, I left for Jacksonville and my paranoia had started to fade.

Years had gone by, and my memories of his face began to escape me. His name was nothing more than a gentle whisper in the deepest pits of my mind. Even then, saying that would be an overstatement. My return to New York was in the wake of my mother’s death. My dad had passed away a few years prior, and our vacation home in Harlem, the same place I lived in so many years ago, had become prime real estate. I got a fellowship through Columbia upon my return. Life was looking up despite my grief, and I was ready to start a new venture in my medical career.

That was the beginning of my eventual end. I had cheated death all those years ago. Angela was my replacement, though I had no idea at the time. That thing knew she was waiting for me. It knew she would not let me out of her sight, so it took care of the problem. My fear gave it power, and it indulged itself in my torture. When I came back, it knew. 

This time I would not be lucky. Nothing and no one would get in its way. Soon, all memories of that night vanished. Angela’s name escaped me first, then her face, and finally what happened to her. Dauphine and its never-ending halls were gone. The thing that sat at the bar made sure of that before making his next move. 

It was mid-October when he came back into my life, all memories of his face wiped from my mind, and his game really started. My death would be his favorite. A death he rejoiced in for years to come only to be disappointed that nothing lived up to that night. 

Things like Hoseok lived for the chase, and I proved to be his greatest target.

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[awalkoflife-arc]

without having to try too hard, she's always been great at wrapping him around her little finger. no, she didn't need his baby inside of her to do that, but it definitely helped. "oh, yeah? just how bad do you want it, huh?" harrison winks, leaning toward her to press a kiss to her lips. it's fun to tease her like this when she's still as horny but not quite as agile. pregnancy sex is just as fun though, at least that's what he's found, especially when the hormones are raging. "something hot? or cold? i'm gonna grab a beer." he stands up from his position on the bed and pulls on a dark grey hoodie, watching her rub her hands over her belly. it's still a little surreal to him that their whole world is tucked carefully inside of her. "snack wise, we've got salted popcorn, pretzels, sour cream and barbeque pringles. pretty sure we got tortilla chips and salsa left as well if you want me to throw together some makeshift nachos?" there's no shortage of salty and sweet variations of her favourite foods. "choice is yours, we could always order food in?"

"oh you're gonna feed it to me? well then fuck yeah, that's exactly what i want," she answers playfully, squirming in place to make it look like she's doing everything she can to get more comfortable, when in reality, she just couldn't get comfy at all and would likely be fidgety until she found a position she could support her belly and not make the things she ate sit wrong in her stomach and come rushing right back up. harrison really had been a godsend these past few months while she got used to not only the joys of early pregnancy, but being completely thrown off by what to do when her bump got in the way. she was still sad she couldn't sleep on her stomach like she was used to. at least during a halloween movie marathon maybe she wouldn't focus on that too much. "just my ice cream, and could you get us something to drink?" she rubbed the bump for emphasis, her previous 'us' meaning herself and the baby. the one that she swore was trying to dehydrate her on a daily basis. "oh and maybe something salty. do we have anything like that?" she owed him so big for taking such good care of her.

[vikteres]

⸤ 🩸 ⸣ ⸻ 𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔, an independent and private multimuse ft original and canon characters from different medias. dark themes will appear, proceed with caution. by kiki, she + her, twenty8+. activity is permanently sporadic to low. this is a sideblog.

carrd, atlas, prompts, board. blogroll, klaeus, @elenva, @syleus. follows will come from @klaeus. affiliated with @salvatoraes, @cairoes. muse spotlight, aurora, lara, river, eris, nimue, cassie, varina.

before interacting.

do not interact if you're under 18, 21+ preferred.

basic etiquette and human decency please: no weird or gross behaviors, and be respectful.

while triggering topics will appear and be tagged, keep taboo subjects away from me. (r.ape/non-con, p.edophilia, i.ncest, etc.)

banned: i.an somerhalder and a recast klaus. exceptions can be made for multis that have a tag for them i can block.

mutuals are welcome to tag me in anything ever, send in countless memes whenever, message me at any time and request my d.iscord. basically if we're mutuals, "bug" me whenever and however you want 🤍

my formatting is simple, and i'm fine with icons, iconless, gif icons or gifs. answered asks can always be treated as a starter, feel free to rb them or start a new post to create a thread!

accessibility: lmk at any time if you need me to adjust anything for your comfort, it won't bother me at all. on my end, it would be super helpful if you don't use tiny icons, all caps, or courier new font with me.

shipping and dynamics of all kinds are my lifeblood, so lmk at any time if you're interested in shipping with me.

there will be a heavy focus on my original characters, with canons taking a backseat by default. please do not try to interact with only my male muses.

originals.

alessandro de luca, vampire, taylor zakhar perez, primary.

amarande floresca, pureblood vampire, gemma arterton, primary.

aspasia, the dark urge / seldarine drow druid, tbd, primary.

aspyn verona, hunter, bruna marquezine, secondary.

aurora provenza, black market doctor, danielle rose russell, priority.

booker darcy, hunter / half demon, chris evans, primary.

briar kesta, reincarnation of aphrodite, holliday grainger, primary.

callan wisteria, private investigator, jacob elordi, primary.

cassiopeia claremont, reincarnation of the goddess of the stars, claire holt, primary.

christian byrne, hunter, ethan peck, secondary.

eris floresca, pureblood vampire, crystal reed, primary.

fern roque, serial killer of abusive men, sofia carson, secondary.

julieta cardenas, ghost hunter / streamer, lizeth selene, secondary.

luminita, gifted vampire, demet özdemir, secondary.

magdalena primrose, mortician / exorcist, alexandra daddario, primary.

mi-cha yeong, storm chaser, kim ji-won, tertiary.

mikhail floresca, pureblood vampire, douglas booth, primary.

naizak, archangel oc, kim jae-wook, tertiary.

nimue, ancient forest witch / shapeshifter, megan fox, primary.

opal undergrove, witch, yaya dacosta, secondary.

rhysand eoin ó cuilinn, vampire, chace crawford, primary.

river mihal, werewolf, eleanor tomlinson, priority.

severina, white eyed demon oc, adria arjona, secondary.

sila prakenskii, mobster, tor thanapob, priority.

varina leucothea, siren princess, dakota johnson, primary.

canons.

caius, twilight, regé-jean page, secondary.

connor, dbh, bryan dechart, test.

damon salvatore, tvdu, giancarlo commare, secondary.

edward cullen, twilight, robert pattinson, secondary.

emmett cullen, twilight, michael evans behling, primary.

esme cullen, twilight, rachel weisz, secondary.

isabella swan, twilight, antonia gentry, primary.

jack ryan, bioshock, jensen ackles, test.

lara croft, tomb raider, yaya sperbund, primary.

sam winchester, supernatural, jared padalecki, primary.

silas, tvdu, paul wesley, test.

stefan salvatore, tvdu, paul wesley, secondary.

subject delta, bioshock 2, mads mikkelsen, test.

tom avery, tvdu, paul wesley, test.