#mel & heaven

[egophiliac]

Since book 7 part 5 (the part where we meet Meleanor/Maleanor 👀) is coming to EN this month, i would love to see your take on lilia’s proposal to meleanor! i mean they were like little kids right? it couldn’t have been that serious…i think the only reason she even brought it up again is because she could tell lilia still genuinely loved her…(even if he didn’t realize it himself?) but, oh well! Let’s think about silly childhood shenanigans to numb the pain! ^_^ (orz)

oh shit?! get ready for a doozy guys, it's comiiiiiing ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

I chickened out of posting the whole thing (look, I get VERY carried away when it comes to these wacky kids and their Tragedy), but I do believe that it probably ended with Lilia getting embarrassed and just shoving the first thing he sees into his mouth to try and cover for it.

(we're just lucky it wasn't a frog this time)

[bebemoon]

look for the name BETSY (requested by @mel-b-721) | heaven by marc jacobs eri wakiyama print mini dress,eirinn hayhow "butterfly manifestation" hood ("salvaged hypnotic knit, infused with the magic of rainbow quartz crystal, the manifestation crystal of mystics and cute vintage butterfly patches."), tooth gems by @space__gems on instagram (based in paris, france), love's "baby soft" cologne spray (lemon leaf, orange, jasmine, lily of the valley, rose, powdery notes, musk, vanilla, sandalwood), melissa x lazy oaf "shape" 90's-inspired open-toe heeled sandals in green

[melit0n]

Most of the time my liking of Vessel is more of an admiration than an attraction, but like, once I month I see a photo or clip of him and I'm like yeah. If I was a fisherman in the middle of the Atlantic I'd have NO chance

[ravenkings]

someone needs to study the phenomenon of right wingers getting totally obsessed with and attempting to appropriate movies made by liberals/left wingers whose narratives go entirely against their own stated values and views (see also: the matrix, fight club, v for vendetta, etc.)

[mel-tokio]

was not expecting the game to explicitly confirm that ruka's gay. color me pleasantly surprised!

[whitestopper]

@ Viktor fans: Your skinny white boy will be fine. Get onto more important issues.

@ Mel fans: I miss her, can't wait to see her again 🥲

[relicsongmel]

Was doing some thinking today and realized that one of the reasons I'm really drawn to Kieran is because he's a rare example of a character that's shy (and usually good-hearted) but still has some rougher edges to him.

I feel like all too often shy characters are shoved into being portrayed as either "smol bean who would never hurt anyone and just wants friends uwu" or "brooding loner who snaps at people to cover up the fact they don't actually know how to socialize" with not a lot of wiggle room in between. While I can and do enjoy characters that (arguably) fall into those respective categories, they're a bit reductive in the sense that things are very rarely that black and white in reality. Even the kindest people have a limit to what they can tolerate. They have bad days or respond poorly to events around them that cause them stress. And the same can be said in reverse as well—point being, people are multifaceted and don't always behave as predictably as we'd like to think.

And I think Kieran reflects that dichotomy perfectly. When we first meet him, he's meek, timid, and relies heavily on his more brash and forceful older sister to help him navigate social situations where he would otherwise lose out on something valuable because he's too afraid to come forward and ask for what he wants (like how she has to ask the player to battle him on his behalf). He's often quick to cower whenever she starts to get heated, but he's also not afraid to point out when he thinks she's wrong and sometimes even gets sassy with her himself. He's undeniably sweet and gentle and shows eagerness to make friends with the player, but he becomes much more curt when he notices we're lying to him about Ogerpon. The rest of the Teal Mask storyline shows him fluctuating even further—yelling at Carmine and the player for keeping secrets from him, punching things in fits of anger...then backpedaling and apologizing for the trouble he caused a few scenes later. Spreading the truth about Ogerpon to everyone in the village to help make her happy...then selfishly demanding a battle to see who's worthy of being her Trainer when she has already clearly chosen the player.

After being lied to and suffering repeated losses at our hands (including the Pokemon he's idolized all his life choosing us over him), he leans even more heavily into his bitter side during the Indigo Disk—being cold and ruthless to pretty much everyone around him, but at the end of the day it's primarily overcompensation for what he perceives as his own personal weakness (because he's still just a kid trying to be taken seriously). He's shown to drop the act on multiple occasions—most notably when he's caught off guard by our appearance at Blueberry Academy and at a few points during the Area Zero expedition. He antagonizes the player up until the moment of his defeat and tries to catch and use Terapagos in a last-ditch moment of desperation that ends up going horribly wrong, but after everything resolves he's quick to admit his mistakes and asks the player for forgiveness and if they can still be friends. After the epilogue he's mostly back to his old self, but still seems to get worked up when provoked (e.g. when he yells at Drayton for refusing to stop calling him "ex-Champ" in one of their League Club Room interactions).

And I think this varied and sometimes contradictory behavior is precisely why Kieran is such a cohesive and believable character—because it shows how even kind, well-meaning people may have a hidden darker side that can show itself under the right circumstances. How they might let their insecurities get the better of them. How a shy, timid kid might not have the experience to know how to deal with sudden feelings of frustration and/or jealousy that are far too strong to keep to himself, so he lashes out as a result. How despite all this he remains kind, sensitive and loving at his core and shows willingness to learn from his mistakes. And that is what makes him so compelling to me.

[cljordan-imperium]

Bayou Witches - 3

Heaven Shelby belongs to @call-sign-shark “Follow.”  Mel grinned, biting her lower lip as she beckoned Heaven with all the fingers on her right hand, backing towards the staircase to the lower floor from the doorway of the blonde's bedroom.  The women had ended up spending the day shopping in the nearest small town with Mel’s mom and sister, both named Marie, having fun and exploring all the little shops.  Heaven had thought the place reminded her of something out of one of those holiday TV movies that came to life, where everyone was super friendly and all had the most amazing accents.  Not to mention there were plenty of places selling delicious smelling treats that tasted even better.  Now she wondered what her new friend was up to, there was no missing the impish grin that lit up the brunette’s face, all the way to her oceanic blue eyes.

“What?”  Heaven started to reach for her sandals, when Mel rushed forward to grab her hand and pull her forward before she could. 

“Nope.  Tonight is barefoot.”  Mel’s grin grew.  “I promise you don’t have to worry about delicate feet at all.”

“Meeeelll…”  Heaven drew out her name as she started to follow, laughing and wondering what was in store.  

“Adoption ceremony time.”  Mel spun, her patchwork skirt flaring out in a wide circle around her as she did.  

“I’m sorry, what?” Heaven’s eyes went wide as Marie suddenly seemed to appear from nowhere and take one of her hands.

“You are now a bayou witch, child.  Come and meet your ancestors.  They have been waiting a long time for you to show up.”  Marie’s heavy Creole French accent made her words sound rich and aristocratic.  Her face though, it showed all the love a mother could have for a child as she gazed at Heaven and placed a kiss on her cheek.  “It is time you meet all of your family.”

Heaven watched Mel almost bound down the steps of the interior of the mansion with child-like enthusiasm, while Marie gently led her.  Marie II was a the bottom of the stairs waiting for her sister.  A tight hug was exchanged before Francois and Dontanion also stepped into view, hugs once more being exchanged.  Then the two sisters scampered off like children towards the back of the house.

“Do not worry about Arthur, he is in Alexander and Cade’s capable hands for the evening.  They are very familiar with how important family ceremonies are.”  Francois offered his arm to his new little sister.  The last time there was a new female LaVeau had been the birth of Melania.  They were rare.  Heaven would be the only adoption, and she would be just as loved as those born into the bloodline.

“Your brothers will escort you to the ceremony, child.  Welcome home, Heaven LaVeau-Shelby.  You will always have family in the Louisiana bayou.”  Marie kissed both Heaven’s cheeks before leaving her in Dontanion and Francois’ care.  She, like her daughters headed for the back of the mansion.

“Tonight, you will meet aunties, uncles, cousins, nieces, and nephews within the line of the LaVeaus.  Then you’ll meet the ancestors.  No one tonight will mean you harm. We perform the same ceremony when there is a birth only then the baby is carried by its parents, you get escorts.” Dontanion explained in his accent that mirrored his mother’s.

Heaven was led across the back lawn of the mansion towards the bayou.  She could see a golden glow within the cypress trees that hung with Spanish moss and the low mangroves that were dotted among them.  As they drew nearer, she could hear the beat of the drums, and words in a language that she didn’t understand.  The closer they got, it was no longer discernible whether the singing was coming from in front of them, or from all around them.  It was as if the ancient cypress were singing themselves, the drumming coming from inside them.  The firelight made the shadows cast by the spanish moss to make the trees look alive.  It was like the entire bayou was welcoming Heaven home, and in a way it was.

Finally, they were close enough that Heaven could see the circle.  In the center was a bonfire, the wood piled so it was highest in the center.  Around that danced all of the females of the family.  Long skirts that brushed the ground, and like Melania’s, they all flared out when they spun.  Behind them were the males and the drums of all kinds.  Some were small enough to be carried, while others had to be placed and the drummer stood behind.  It was a sight unlike anything that Heaven had ever seen before.

When the three reached the edge of the firelight, everyone fell silent.  Marie came to the front, her rosary in one hand, her small staff with a silver head in the form of Baron Samedi in the other.  Twirling her rosary and moving the staff in a rhythm, she began to do a chant in the same language that Heaven had heard as they’d approached.  One of the drummers with a drum came forward to match the rhythm that she was indicating.  After two times through whatever incantation that Marie was doing, the other women and girls joined in.  There was also an intricate kind of line dance that the women did as they moved around the fire, making sure their skirts did not get too close to it. It started slow at first, then slowly began to increase in speed, but the rhythm stayed the same.

As Heaven watched and listened to the beautiful song, she started to notice what she thought were shadows moving across the waters of the bayou at first.  Later, she realized that it was the spirits coming out of the bayou and joining in the movements with the members of the LaVeau family. The spirits each carried a candle, a yellow flame atop each one.  Their voices echoed like soft breezes through the leaves of the trees as they joined in with the living LaVeaus.  Over 300 years of family came together to welcome their newest member to the fold.  The love almost palpable in the air as the members of the family, both living and passed on, now surrounding her in a circle.  It was a ritual that had been performed countless times over the centuries and would be performed  countless more in the future.

See blood did not make one a LaVeau, it was more than that.  Amongst those, living and dead, that were in  the bayou that night, there was an energy, a presence, in the very soul, the very being, that tied them all together.  It was a bond that even death could not break and  distance could not thin.  Time did not diminish, and the more members that came into the fold, the greater it grew.  Love is what made one a LaVeau and once you were one, all of those who came before and after accepted you without hesitation and loved without reservation.  Never, no matter where you were in the world, would you walk alone, because your ancestors would walk alongside you.  Tonight, Heaven became a LaVeau, and forever more she would be one and get to experience everything that came along with it.

@blind-the-winds @saltysupercomputer @pheita @writingmaidenwarrior @dreaminggoblin @toribookworm22 @korblez @aziz-reads @evita-shelby @call-sign-shark @cillmequick @raincoffeeandfandoms @spookyceph

[mariocki]

Brannigan (1975)

"Well, if it was up to me, I'd get some men out thumping on the streets, passing out some 'e pluribus unum'. That's what ninety percent of police work is today."

"The murder rate in your country, I'm sure, gives ample testimony to your superior police methods."

[jwowwsboobs]

Gimme Yer Love, Angel in the Night

The thing about LA is, it's fucking weird. I mean, Los Angeles, city of angels, full of people lookin' to rip you off, rob you dead, take yer boots. And the sun is always fuckin' shining. It never fucking rains. It's like heaven for people with big dreams, but they all come and die. It's the home of the rich, the famous, the megastars. And there are broke people, homeless people, hookers and their pimps, winos and wash-outs fuckin' everywhere.

And me. I guess I'm broke people. I work at a shit job, washing plates, trying not to fuck up my hands or hair, so when I get off, I can kick out the jams in half empty clubs with guys I don't really like or party with people I know well enough to know they don't lace their shit, and then come back home, chick or two on my arm, crash on the couch and get woken up by my roommate, Tripp, AKA the nicest guy on earth, so I get to work on time. Rinse and repeat.

I was headed to the club that night, paycheck in cash in my pocket and brand new leather pants on my ass. Maybe to meet a chick. More likely to have a few and pick one up. I shoved my way through the crowd of people to a guy I knew on door duty, who let me in for free, much to the annoyance of the lame-ass and his girlfriend I'd cut in-front of. Sucks to suck! The club was dark, the air was thick and hot with smoke, sweat, spilled beer, shrieking guitars and thudding drums and bass. The stage was like a setting sun, people crowded around it, almost blocking out the band. You could still see them, but barely. I shoved my way to the bar, squeezing in next to two beautiful blondes, perfect butts, tall as trees, hair as big as the sun, two feet from the smokers corner and the bathroom doors. They side eyed me and rolled their twelve pounds of eyelashes and eyeliner at each other, pouting their big red lips and twirling their hair around their perfectly manicured fingers. Tough crowd, but I always like a challenge. I flagged down the bartender, asked for a beer. As the bartender went to grab a glass and fill it up, I turned to the girls.

"Y'all want anything?" I shouted at them.

The one next to me looked at me like I was a new species of sidewalk slime that she'd just found on the bottom of her brand fuckin' new 500 dollar heels, but her friend smiled and pointed at their glasses.

"Refill for these ladies," I gestured to the girls, and the bartender took their glasses away to make whatever overpriced, fruity shit they'd been drinking. I turned to the stage, drank my beer, waited for the right moment to grease them up. Turns out they had me beat.

When their drinks came, they split before I could say "You're welcome."

Tough break.

I knocked the rest of the beer back, and was about to flag for a refill, when I felt cold breath on my neck.

"Some people have no fuckin' manners, huh, sunshine?"

I looked over my shoulder into cold, dark eyes peering over mirrored sunglasses, almost covered by shaggy black hair. He slipped into the open space next to me. Stage lights dimmed.

"Uh-"

He held up his hand, sliver and black rings sparkling in the club's flashing lights. "Another beer?"

"Shit, sure man," I said, digging in my pockets for some cash. He snorted.

"On me."

"Hey, thanks man! I'm Lani."

"Ryan." We shook hands, his hands like ice against my sweaty and damp palm.

"You new to town?" I asked, as we waited.

"Hardly." He blew his bangs out of his face. "Are you?"

"Not really. Been here a coupla months. Where are ya from?"

"Far away. Why'd you come here, farm boy?"

I blinked. "How'dja know I grew up on a farm?"

Ryan glanced up and down at me. "You've still got a farmers tan. And you just told me."

I rubbed my bare shoulders, suddenly cold in my cut off. "I coulda gotten that here, man, that doesn't mean anything!"

Ryan laughed at me. I couldn't tell if it was a mean laugh or not. It sounded mean. But it really didn't matter. He was hot. I could take a little denigration from a guy like that. "But you didn't."

I huffed. "Yeah alright, whatever, man. At least I look like I've seen the sun. Haven't you seen any movies recently, man? Pasty is out, tanned is in. Gotta look like yer livin'!"

He rolled his eyes. "So you wanna be a movie star."

"Hardly." I shrugged. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I wouldn't mind! Can't act for shit though. I'm gonna be a rockstar. Bigger than Morrison and twice as hot."

Ryan looked intrigued. "Morrison, huh?"

"Fuck yeah man, great fuckin' poet, rock STAR to a T, heartthrob...all that shit."

His eyes flicked up and down my outfit. "Where's the concho belt?"

I laughed. "I don't needa be carbon copy, that'd be boring and lame as fuck. Anyway, what are you here for?"

He shrugged, playing with his rings. "Just lookin' to have a good time for the rest of time. Figured what better place than LA."

I grinned and slapped him on the back. "Hell yeah man! Party never fuckin' stops here, it's like heaven."

Ryan half smiled and raised his glass. I hadn't noticed the beers had come. "Cheers."

We clinked glasses, and I drank.

I woke up with a roaring, pounding headache and a mouth drier than a 40-something in a loveless marriage looking at her fat, ugly husband. Which wasn't that weird, until I realized I was in my bed, and it was late afternoon, almost evening. I fumbled around, looking for some shades, trying to block out the too-bright sunlight, and fell out of my bed onto a pile of clothes and shoes. I groaned, and Tripp's footsteps came down the hallway and into my room.

"Jesus, dude, are you okay?"

I tried to say something that would have been, "Yeah man, I'm cool! Just need sunglasses and an Advil and possibly the greasiest cheeseburger known to man," but what came out sounded more like "Urugggggghhhhurnr."

"Man, you look like friggin' hell, lemme call yer boss 'n' tell him yer sicker than a dog and would probably die if you went in." He started out of the room.

"Sunglasses." I finally managed to croak out.

He didn't hear me. I groaned, and crawled back into my bed, pulling the blanket over my head and sending me into mostly darkness. It musta been a hell of a night, since I could barely fuckin' remember it. Except for that guy. Long, dark, messy hair. Dark eyes, perfect lips set in a slight sneer. Tarnished silver rings and piles of necklaces. White open button shirt and black jeans. Black and blue cowboy boots. Heaven's fallen angel, all in black. Ryan. I hadn't gotten his FUCKING number. I buried my face in my pillow. Maybe I'd smother to death and never have to worry about not ever seeing the world's hottest guy ever again.

"Good news man!" Tripp said loudly, walking back into my room. "Yer boss says you don't gotta go in t'day!"

I groaned.

"Bad news is, he says ya can't go in ever again."

Figures.

"It's all cool though man! I can get'cha another job, don't even worry about it. I'm goin' to work 'n' then to Michelle's birthday party. Left some money on the counter if you wanna order yerself something hot like pizza or Chinese food. Noodles are probably yer best bet. I'll be back like, tomorrow morning. Feel better man!"

Tripp left, and I stayed wrapped up in my blanket. Ryan's dark eyes swum in my head. His mean little laugh. I wanted to know that guy. Needed to love him. I was already in love, and it'd only been like 12ish hours.

I dragged myself out of bed as the sun finally sank behind the buildings, the streetlights and corner stores' neon lights flickering on. I shuffled into the bathroom, no shirt, still wearing my pants from the night before. I stared into the mirror. My hair was matted and tangled from the teasing and hairspray and sleeping in it. My skin looked much paler than the day before, but I didn't think much of it, cuz of how fucking SHITTY I felt. Hickies covered my neck, but there were none on my chest. Which struck me as weird, cuz usually when I'm with someone who's gonna give me hickies, they give 'em all over. Not stingy with the lovin'. I turned to look at my back. Covered in scratches.

"Guess we had fuckin' fun." I said to myself.

I shoved my hands into my pockets, pulling out all my money from yesterday (All of it? Hadn't I spent some of it?) and a crumpled up piece of paper. My hands shook as I unfolded it.

268-7886‬. R ☆

Of course he'd have fancy handwriting, perfectly formed cursive letters. I carefully folded it back up and stuck it back in my pocket, along with my cash, and stripped to shower.

The whole time, Ryan's face floated infront of me, his laugh echoing through my head.

I dried my hair, and wrapped the towel around my waist. I didn't feel hungover, but I felt this deep, gnawing hunger itching at my insides. Like when you've had sex for the first time and you want it again. I snatched my pants off the ground and went back to my room, pulling on clean (probably) boxers and grabbing the phone number. I took a beer from the fridge and sat on the couch in the living room, staring down the phone. I cracked it, chugged it, and before I could psych myself out of it, I picked up the phone and dialed.

It rang twice before he picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey Ryan, it's Lani, you gave me this number yesterday night."

"Oh yeah," Ryan laughed breathily into the phone. "You wanna meet tonight?"

"Sure, where? The club?"

"No." Ryan paused. "Evergreen."

"Evergreen? The cemetery?"

"Mhm. Listen, ah...Lani. I've got to go. I'll see you there tonight. Midnight?"

"I-"

He hung up. I groaned, bashing the receiver into my damp hair.

"FUUUUUCK." I dropped the receiver back on the hook and buried my head in my hands. I had no choice.

It was eleven by the time I finally got the balls to get dressed and go out. I'd left my hair to air dry. Well, mostly air-dry. I blow-dried and hairsprayed my roots for a little of whatever the girls called volume when they did my hair. Found a loose, colorful button up that I half buttoned and didn't tuck in, tight jeans, cowboy boots. Smudged eyeliner that a girl had left behind in the bathroom across my lower lash line. And drank.

The taxi driver dropped me off half a block from the cemetery, like I asked him to. He watched me in the rearview, clearly trying to figure out why I wanted to go to a fuckin' cemetery this time of night, dressed like that. I tipped him extra for keeping his mouth shut. He took off, fast.

I waited til the street was empty and jumped the fence. And prayed it wouldn't take too long to find him.

As heaven would have it, it didn't.

Ryan sat on the steps of the mausoleum overlooking the chapel, wrapped in a tiger-striped fur jacket, cigarette hanging from his long, ringed fingers. He watched me approach like a hunting dog watching a bird. I could have sworn his eyes were yellow.

"Hey," I called.

"Hi." He dragged on his cigarette. "Thought you wouldn't show."

I shrugged and sat next to him. "If I didn't, what would you have done?"

Ryan shrugged and put the cigarette out on the sole of his star-covered platform boots. I studied the stars, red and sliver on black leather. "Dunno. Wanna go in?"

"What, in the mausoleum?"

He smiled at me, teeth glittering like stars in the dark. "Why not? The dead are good at keeping secrets, sunshine."

He stood up and slipped in. I looked up at the starless, black sky, and followed him. It was dark, and the side walls were lined by barred doors, leading to crypts. He turned around, fast, and pushed me up against the marble wall, breath cold against my neck.

"You want this?"

"Yeah."

Ryan licked my neck, and I winced from the pressure on the still sore hickies. His fingers slipped up my half-buttoned shirt, hand pressing against my rapidly beating heart.

"Feel good?"

"Mmhm." I moaned as he kissed my neck, gently, softly. I reached to grab his hip, to pull him closer. He grabbed my wrist and pinned it against the wall above my head. I squirmed a little, not liking the gap he kept between him and me, the cold air on my slightly exposed chest.

"Don't like that, huh?" He teased, tightening his grip on my wrist. His other hand slipped down my shirt, pressing against my hip.

"Man," I whined. "C'mon-"

"Shhh." Ryan pressed his hand against my mouth, muffling my whines. I squirmed, wanting him up against me. He laughed, pulling his hand from my mouth, but letting his index and middle fingers brush against my lower lip. "Suck."

I tentatively licked the tips of his fingers. His teeth and eyes glittered in the dark and I felt my dick twitch. I grabbed his hand, and pushed his fingers into my mouth, licking, sucking, moaning, working them the way I would have worked his dick, lost in it.

With a pop, he pulled his hand out of my mouth, and grabbed my face, smearing my spit all over my cheek.

"You like that, huh? Little slut."

I groaned, and he laughed softly, and kissed up my neck to my mouth. He was barely touching me, and I felt like I was burning up. I could barely think. He kissed me, working his tongue into my mouth, dropping my wrist to grab my hips, pushing me against the wall, and him against me. I moaned into it, twisting one hand into his hair, one around his shoulder, pulling him closer. He pulled away, and I gasped as the cold mausoleum air hit my face and my chest. He watched me breathe heavily. I knew my face was flushed, but I couldn't tell if his was.

"Ditch the shirt."

I licked my lips, wanting to push his buttons. "If you want it gone so bad, you take it off."

"Yeah?" He said softly, with a hint of amusement.

"Yeah."

He moved close to me, hands barely brushing against me, unbuttoning the shirt. "Gonna regret that, sunshine."

"Make me."

He laughed softly, sliding the shirt off my shoulders. I pulled it off the rest of the way and he trailed his fingers down my chest. I breathed heavily.

"Take off my belt."

I knelt on the floor, fumbling with the cold metal and leather of his belt. I found the end of the tongue as his hand tangled in my hair. I looked up at him. His face was obscured by his dark hair and shadows. I pulled it out of his belt loops and felt the buckle open and smiled. He traced circles in my hair. I pulled his belt off, laying it on the ground.

"Keep going," he said.

I undid the top button, trying to keep my touch light. His grip on my hair tightened. I looked up at him.

"Keep going?"

He sucked his breath in quickly. "Yes."

I slowly unzipped his jeans, and he huffed impatiently. I grinned in the dark.

"Don't like that, huh?"

Ryan pulled his hands out of my hair roughly and pulled his dick out of his boxers. I could barely make out the shape in the dark.

"Open." He said, grabbing my hair again.

I did, wrapping one hand over his as he pushed into my mouth. He sighed, tangled his hand deeper in my hair, moaning, pulling on it with every movement. I moved up and down slowly, and he pushed his hips forward into my mouth. My dick twitched in my jeans, but I couldn't think about anything but him.

He groaned, gripping my hair tighter, sliding in and out of my mouth. I moaned as he hit the back of my throat and his hips bucked.

"Oh god. Do that again," He said, breathless.

I moaned again as he hit the back of my throat. He groaned, pounding into my mouth harder and faster.

The tightness in my jeans, him fucking my face, his heavy breathing, the random pretty little moans, was driving me crazy. I gripped his thighs and looked up at him. His hair, shaggy and long, mostly covered his face.

I couldn't think. I closed my eyes again, relaxing my throat as he fucked me. My throat. Whatever. I felt my spit dripping down my chin, falling on my bare chest. He pulled on my hair. I felt him tensing up.

"Lani," He moaned breathlessly. "Lani, I'm close."

I groaned, my dick uncomfortably hard.

"Lani," he whined. "Oh god, Lani, I-"

He moaned, and his dick twitched as he came. I swallowed, and pulled away, wiping my mouth. My knees hurt. He panted above me, one hand on his dick and the other on my chin.

"You looks so good like that," he said. "C'mere."

I stood up slowly, knees hurting, and he pushed against me. He bit my bottom lip, slid his hand up my ribs, resting on my heart.

I moaned as he situated his thigh between my legs, rubbing it against my crotch. I pulled on the front of his jacket, wanting him closer. He smiled against my mouth, rocking his hips against me, and I closed my eyes, moaning into his mouth. I pulled on his hair, wrapped my arm around his neck, grabbed his bare hip.

He pulled away just before I came, and I whined in frustration.

"Shhh, baby," he whispered in my ear, fumbling with my jeans button and zipper. "I'm not gonna let you go that easy."

I panted, squirming as he trailed his fingers over my stomach. "Ryan, please, I need, I-,"

"What'dya need, sunshine?"

I moaned and he scoffed.

"C'mon, use yr words."

"Fuck me," I whined. "Fuck me!"

He kissed me. "Anything you want."

I squirmed as he pulled my jeans and boxers down, the cold air hitting my aching dick.

"Turn around, grab those bars right there and relax."

I did as told, breathing slowly and deeply. He rubbed some lube onto my ass and started to prep me. I moaned as he worked his finger in and out and in and out, adding another, stretching me out. He rubbed my back, telling me how good I was doing, how well I was taking it, how good it was gonna feel. I closed my eyes, letting him, his smell, his voice, his touch, wash over me. I was in heaven in that dark cemetery, about to get fucked by an angel of the night.

I heard a condom wrapper crinkle.  

"I'm gonna take it slow, baby." He kissed my neck as he pushed in slowly.

I moaned.

He grabbed my hip with one hand and jacked me off with the other. While fucking me slowly. I couldn't think, much less comprehend exactly how good his touch felt. The minutes became one continuous moment, nothing existing except for him. His voice. His hips against my ass. His mouth on my neck. His hands on me. Him. Heaven-sent.

He kissed my neck, licked it, moaned into it. His thrusts got more and more rough and uneven, his moans increasing in frequency against my neck. I whined, feeling my orgasm close in on me, unable to keep my eyes open. He bit me as I came, and I screamed. He let go of my dick to grab my throat, keeping me from squirming, my cum warm on his hand, still pounding into my ass as he sucked blood from my neck. And darkness ate away at my vision.

I woke up to a cop shining his flashlight in my eye and a dog's head on my chest. A brindle pitbull. Like home. It was still dark out as the cop roughly escorted me out of the cemetery, grumbling something about the city's "fuckin' bum problem." The dog followed. I flagged a cab, half to prove that I was not a "fuckin' bum" despite missing my shirt, shoes, and my pants being half unbuttoned and half to get home fast. Ryan had disappeared completely, and I felt like hell. Worse than yesterday. Everything about me fuckin' hurt. The dog clambered in the taxi with me, and the cabby didn't bother trying to kick either of us out.

It took forever, but the dog and I got home before Tripp. The dog almost didn't follow me in, but I shoo'ed it inside. No need to get my fuckin' neighbors pissed, they already hated me and Tripp. I didn't bother turning any lights on. The clock said 2:39, and I abandoned my pants on my bedroom floor, practically clawing them off my legs, and curled up on my bed, sweating and shaking. I felt sicker than I ever had and the pain was nearly unbearable.

The dog sat in my doorway, watching me.

"What'chu lookin' at," I groaned. An intense wave of nausea hit me, and I gagged. I stumbled to the bathroom, nearly tripping on the dog's tail on my way, and threw up in the toilet. Lucky shot. Sort of. It was all over my chest too. I groaned and gently banged my head against the wall.

I waited a couple of minutes to make sure nothing more was gonna make a cameo on the bathroom floor, and stripped to shower and rinse my mouth out in one shot. And maybe hurt less.

When I got out, my neck hurt real bad. I touched it. My hand came away red-ish. What the fuck? I patted it with my towel, and the towel came away red too. I stared at it, not comprehending what this meant. Somewhere in the apartment, someone was playing my guitar. I reached to the mirror, to wipe the condensation off, and the realization hit me.

I was home alone and someone was playing my guitar. Incredibly well, but someone was playing it.

I hastily wrapped my towel around my waist and found Ryan, sitting on my bed, playing guitar.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Ryan did not look up, continuing to play. "I came home with you, stupid."

"No you didn't," I said. "You ditched me in the cemetery. I woke up with this dog on my chest 'n' it followed me home. You just showed up. Stupid."

"Where's the dog then?"

That was a good question. I stuck my head out of my room and looked around. Tripp's door was locked like it always was, the bathroom was empty, the living room-slash-dining room-slash-kitchen was empty. No dog.

"I don't know." I said, head pounding. "I just wanna go to bed. I feel sick."

Ryan stopped playing and looked at me, raising his eyebrows. "Wonder why."

"What?"

"Nothin'," Ryan rolled his perfect eyes and went back to playing. "Put clothes on 'n' c'mere."

"Weirdo." I grumbled, grabbing a pair of boxers and a shirt from my dresser. "Barely fuckin' know you, 'n' you come into my house, play my fuckin' guitar-"

"You came to my house first, sunshine."

"What? When?" I said, dropping my towel and pulling my boxers on and the shirt over my head.

He rolled his eyes. I stood there, headache beating my brains, trying to piece it all together. Black clothes. Irresistible charm. Midnight. Cemetery. Dog that was there and then gone. Biting my neck.

"Vampires aren't real?" The room was swaying.

Ryan laughed at me. "You sound sure."

I groaned, crawling into my bed and curling up. The world was spinning. Everything hurt, my head most of all.

"It should be really kicking in right now, the venom." Ryan said, playing the most beautiful, melancholic, entrancing melody I'd ever heard. "Your body's trying to reject it, which is why everything hurts so bad right now. Eventually you'll die, probably within the next 4 hours. At around, I dunno, hour 5 of the venom being in your system, you become paralyzed. But you're still awake. You get to feel everything. Your lungs slowly stop working, your blood slowly stop moving, your heart slowly stop beating. It's incredible honestly. Very fascinating to watch."

"Make it stop," I groaned.

"Turn you into a vampire? I don't think so. I'd rather watch you die." He started playing a new song.

"Please, Ryan. Please."

Ryan sighed. "Why should I?"

"I love you," I groaned. "I barely know you but I love you. You're gonna be alone forever. Don't you want someone by your side?"

"You'll stop loving me."

"I won't." I said, struggling to pull myself up so I could sit against the wall. "I never stop loving someone. I love forever. I'll never leave you."

Ryan looked at me in the eye. For the first time, I could see the depth of the darkness in his dark brown eyes.

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not." I said. "Let me love you. Give me a chance."

He put the guitar down and crawled next to me.

"Why?"

I turned my head to look at him. It hurt. "I think you're holy."

"No you don't."

"I do. I see heaven in you. I feel it in you. You're an angel."

Ryan didn't say anything.

"Ryan. Please. Let me love you. Don't be afraid."

"I'm not angel."

"You are to me."

"That would change."

I closed my eyes. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. "No. It won't."

I heard him sign pointedly. "Wouldn't you rather go to heaven?"

"Heaven doesn't mean anything to me if you're not there."

He inhaled sharply.

"You don't know what you're saying."

I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. "Ryan, look at me."

He wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Please, look at me." I was desperate, about to cry. "Please, Ryan. Look at me."

He wouldn't.

Hot tears fell onto my shirt. "Ryan, please. I love you."

It hung in the air like a suicide.

"Stop crying." He finally whispered, wiping my tears away. I closed my eyes and leaned against him. Melting into him. Trying to relax.

"Lani, look at me."

I opened my eyes. Everything was blurry. I felt him press something warm and wet against my lips.

"Drink," he said. And I did.

And heaven could never compare.

[medeas-chariot]

Tomorrow's gonna be a looooooong long morning. Wish me luck 🤞🏼 manifesting those tickets ✨

[born-to-lose]

What has the Metal Sludge penis chart ever done for us? Everything

[mayplantstarrwaters]

And here's something I have never posted here, yet I always wanted to. My oc, who's also my son - Axel Ronnell. Gonna Melsplain some briefs about him here (I will update this later)

Axel Ronnell, or Ace, is a late 60s - 70s rock musician, poet who formed Cruel Heaven, a dark psychedelia, progressive, hard rock band (I will also explain more about them sometime since this post is mainly focus about Ace).

Ace is the lead guitarist of the band but sometimes he also plays keyboard, flute, sitar and lots of other instrument. He's also responsible for composing most songs for the band.

Another thing Ace is mostly known for aside from being a musician was his passion with poems and literature. Having to lose his interest toward Christianity at a young age, he sorta became deeply spiritual and developed a healthy respect for occultist literature and culture. Aside from that, he also loves mythology, gothic novel, modernist poetry. His interest in classic and mystic literature reflected in his music quite occasionally (even his band's theme was based on his main interest with occult)

Ace was also interest in art too, as he'd spend his freetime sketching things in his mind, but he prefer to be coverted with it

Ace's personality is a mix of a both chaos, and peace. He was clever, his intelligence shine through his music, his poems, his nature to the point it could be described as insane, insanely astounding. Sometimes Axel could be a bit ruthless, erratic, and cold toward people as he wasn't really fond with being around. But not many knows that it's just a mask he put on to cover his true true self. Though he was always opened up about his views, opinion, but no one really knows Axel, as he was very withdrawal about his personality. Most of the time, Axel tend to be quite shy, awkward and somewhat vulnerable, especially when it came to receive affections or mostly, love.

Ace was an active bisexual throughout his life. His interest in witchcraft was the first way for him to build his trust and explore deeper into his sexuality, as he later in life got to appraise it by dating people with the same gender as his

Though Ace was mostly famous for being a very heavy rocker, not many known that he also played alots of jazz before developing himself into a rock musician. Prior to his rockstar day, Ace started his career by being a session musicians for a few jazz artists, and sometimes pop singers too. Even in his Cruel Heaven's days, Ace sometimes still love to combine jazz and blues into his music but he tend to got experimental with it

[melit0n]

3:35 to 4:10 in Levitate is so unbelievably comforting to me. In the best (and worst) way possible, it truly does feel like levitation.

The best way I can describe it is laying in someone's arms, lover, friend, foe or family, and simply basking in the comfort they give you. One arm wrapped, gently, around your middle, fingers tracing invisible patterns on your clothes, and the other hand softly combing through your hair as they whisper soft nothings in your ear. You're on the brink of sleep; half listening to their words and half being drawn in by the comfort of the drowsy void.

It's a warm hug that you never want to leave. (catch me replaying that part over and over)

[valentinesparda]

💬 + whichever Baldur's Gate 3 character you feel strongly towards !

@melviships i wish I could give you a big elaborate lore-filled answer to this but I find it really hard to keep my motivation to play more bg3 so here's a bit of unfunny dialogue I can bet would be part of my insert's lore, based on an actual conversation I had in character during my first DND campaign ever:

------------

MORRIGAN: [ *while tuning their lute* ] "you know shadowheart, i can play many instruments. meaning i'm very good with my hands."

SHADOWHEART: "i hope that involves you wielding a knife properly."

MORRIGAN: [ *known for missing throws in combat* ] "haha. yeah."

[honeyedlashton]

I love my bbg Caramel so much 🩵🤎💛

(✨I literally have no idea who to credit this to because I found it forever ago on twt but whoever made this made my favorite picture probably ever✨)