#my bones said write the poem

[notquiteaghost]

image text: Kindness, kindness, kindness.

I want to make a New Year's prayer, not a resolution. I'm praying for courage.

Susan Sontag, As Consciousness Is Harnessed to Flesh

[notquiteaghost]

because there are graveyards, adira bennett

[aesterrholly]

Degradation of Man

By Aester R Holly

We come out the womb Mewing

As cats to a starving world.

Expecting us to keep Maxxing,

They think not of what they’ve hurled.

Who is this in our Opposition?

They are men who see their Kingdoms

In our eyes of adoration;

They are men who steal our freedoms

Under the guise of restoration.

We fall away into the Skibidi drone

With eyes forever glued

To our newest iphone.

Wake up!

Do not sleep!

We mustn’t lose our Edging streak

Against the raving roosters of rage.

We must defy all that is Beta

And fight for a living wage.

We shall not stand for piling graves

Of children ranging under six.

It is not our place to be Delulu slaves

to growing injustice. Ick!

May we stand full

For we have ate

All that one could stomach,

Leaving no crumbs left of hate.

[inkskinned]

i know some of the poets outside of their books, like cameron awkward-rich; who was my seminar teacher for a semester in grad school. you know him, he wrote about keeping his hand on the walls of his stupid heart. he gave us a journal without lines in it, so the pages were all blank and naked. we had to write down 3 words every day, ruminations on our own lives.

in pink glitter pen, i watched my handwriting cramp and spill from pristine and well-meaning to the slant of someone deeply suffering. the words stopped being lyrical over the course of february. bad, it said. bad and bad and bad. each day carving out a little bit of marrow, the sparrow of my heart acting as roadkill. that winter i was only allowed to eat apples, like a horse. my ocd had decided i could only touch food if it was red. i was sleeping on the floor and a spider bit me.

i wanted him to be my thesis advisor, but it was covid the next year, and we never spoke again, and i'm worried that i embarrassed myself by asking him repeatedly. for my final project in his class, i wrote about my disability. i called myself a rat, fondly.

his most famous poem is titled Meditations in an Emergency. i didn't know it until three weeks after i had graduated from that university.

at one point, he sat me down after class just to discuss some of my work. it was a night class, and we were all a little drowsy. he blinked up at me. i think sometimes the way you see the world is a little bit alarming. i wonder about that, in hindsight. i wonder if all of us who are walking on thumbtacks always recognize when someone else's spine is the undulating form of a siren. i could see it in him and you can see it in me, if you're looking.

yesterday nat said some of this is worrying.

i told cameron i was fine and i told nat i was fine, but i think maybe all of us had learned a long time ago how to be fine the way a poem is fine - because it happens outside of you. it can be honest, the confession, but it cannot be spelled out across your ribs. we make our art so that the sorrow can hang, limbless, trembling on the fetid walls beside us.

you learn to turn the ugliness into some kind of work, because you must smash the entire human experience of your stupid bones and teeth and tongue into something, so that you have anything to show for it. otherwise, what is the fucking point. why were you suffering, if not to polish the runoff and say - the melancholy is the signature of my art. i took the splinters out of my gums and filed them down into a thesis. the thesis has been turned into a book which is getting published.

cameron, to my knowledge, still has not read it.

i hope he has found his way out of the maze. i hope you and i one day write our own lanterns. i hope we are able to find some kind of peace without viscera. without having to fight for it. i hope we are able to stumble without falling. i hope one day the sky is empty of vultures and we can cross the desert of our memories without starving.

in the meantime we get up and leave the circled shadow in the writing.

[psuedosugu]

just thinking about vox w/ a famous singer! reader…

cw: themes of stalking and heavy manipulation

gender neutral

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

✮₊ ⊹ || you guys probably met through velvette, she started helping you shoot music videos and things of the sort once your popularity started skyrocketing.

✮₊ ⊹ || and your popularity really did skyrocket, think ice spice.

✮₊ ⊹ || it started with him sponsoring you, asking you to include some voxtech products in one of your music videos.

✮₊ ⊹ || then, he had you on his talk show.

✮₊ ⊹ || after a while, vox started having an interest in you far past business relations.

✮₊ ⊹ || he started stalking you, not just your public socials but even pictures on your camera roll.

✮₊ ⊹ || we see in ep 2 that he can look through tvs and control what they show so im js assuming its the same for all electronic devices.

✮₊ ⊹ || he would watch you through your phone and tv, “just to keep them safe,” he said to himself.

✮₊ ⊹ || you two had more and more partnerships, more and more collaborations, perhaps even your own ‘keeping up with the kardashians’ type tv show.

✮₊ ⊹ || the pubic started speculating on you two’s relations and vox felt a strange sense of happiness and pride in his chest when he saw a post online shipping you two together.

✮₊ ⊹ || val definitely knew what was going on, subtly teasing vox about it every chance he got.

“if you put nearly as much effort as you do ogling at [name] into what we’re trying to do here, imagine the things we could accomplish.”

“wh- i don’t- shut the FUCK up.”

✮₊ ⊹ || vox made subtle moves at you, occasionally flirting with you, it didn’t matter if you flirted back or not, he kept going.

✮₊ ⊹ || flirting escalated to small touches to ur thighs and waist.

✮₊ ⊹ || he slowly coaxed you into a relationship, pretty much lovebombing you, buying you expensive things that you didn’t even need since you were rich already, writing you poems, taking you out on “dates”, ect.

✮₊ ⊹ || he could switch up fast, though, get angry and lash out at you verbally and maybe even slightly physically.

✮₊ ⊹ || he always made sure to apologize after, though, to put the bandaid on the broken bone.

✮₊ ⊹ || you went along with it at first because 1. being seen with him did improve your reputation, 2. he was a strong overlord, it would be hard to escape him, and 3. you genuinely did like him to an extent.

✮₊ ⊹ || he was pushing you into a box, leaving you no options.

✮₊ ⊹ || if you did attempt to leave or even show any sign of wanting to leave him, that would be when the hypnotization began.

✮₊ ⊹ || he didn’t want to do this, he wanted you guys’ relationship to come naturally, but you had practically forced the dude!

✮₊ ⊹ || you weren’t fully under his control, just enough so you wouldn’t leave. you wouldn’t want to leave.

✮₊ ⊹ || you were his trophy, his prize, his, his, his, he almost didn’t even see you as a person.

✮₊ ⊹ || eventually he started presenting you to the public as his too, and its not like you could refuse.

✮₊ ⊹ || you loved him, despite that doubtful feeling in the back of your mind, you loved him.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

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[pomefioredove]

In my bones I know that Rook is the type of guy who loves to go exploring be it forest or man-made structures. With that in mind I have an idea for a fic:

MC!Reader & Rook Hunt making weekend dates out of exploring the unknown places on Sage Island. It's their little ritual that they take great joy in! From the restricted sections of Crowley's office to a small abandoned island off the coast they enjoy taking in sights meant for no-one else.

ROOK REQUEST!!! thank you I love him so muchhh... the fact that archeology becomes an interest of his is so adorable to me <3 rook baby let me take you out and tell you about the incan empire and dead languages and

summary: weekend dates with rook type of post: fic characters: rook additional info: romantic, established relationship, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, french warning, fluffy and cute <3

"One thousand words, one thousand, can you believe that?" you ask, twirling a perfectly-sharpened pencil between your fingers. It had yet to even graze the surface of the paper in your lap.

What a waste of wood.

You slump, leaning against the rough bark of an oak tree. A movement in the foliage overhead sends a deluge of leaves onto your lap, coloring the white of the empty paper with vibrant shades of green.

Rook emerges from the verdure above with a graceful plunk at your side.

"Five hundred each, chéri," he says, picking a leaf out of your hair and ignoring the ones on the notebook.

You tilt your head to the side, watching as he scales the tree again. "Yes, but I was under the impression we'd do it together,"

"Ah, a marvelous idea!" his voice calls out from overhead. "But that can wait for later, non? Come up and see this robin's nest I've uncovered!"

You chuckle. Even with the deadline looming nearer, you couldn't help but indulge him.

Crowley's words still rung fresh in your mind: "Five hundred words on the evil of trespassing. Each!"

Admittedly, seeing the man actually get angry was both amusing and unsettling. You supposed digging around the secret chamber behind his office was pushing it, but how could you resist Rook's charming smile when he said he'd found a trap door and wished to explore it together?

How were you supposed to know that passage would end up in Crowley's office, anyway?

"Mm?" Rook's head pokes out from the leaves again. "Are you coming, Trickster?"

You had begun to fill out that nickname quite nicely.

You set aside the pencil and paper (still untouched) in favor of scaling the lowest branches of the tree. You'd become quite the climber since meeting Rook.

"Ah, the way you so carelessly toss aside your obligations, as if freeing yourself from the shackles of the modern world!" Rook sings, offering a hand to help you onto the branch he's sat atop.

You can't help a smile as he guides you onto the thick part of the branch in front of him. "It was rather symbolic, wasn't it?"

"Chéri, if only I had the time, I would write a poem for every little thing you do," he sighs dreamily. "Come, miel, join me in being wild."

He cups your chin and guides your gaze to a curve where two branches meet, only an arm's-length away. Nestled in the heart of it is a small, delicate, cup-shaped nest, filled with baby blue eggs.

"Très magnifique," he comments, his voice breathless and soft. "The miracle of life. A sign that spring has returned once more, putting Monsieur L'Hiver to rest."

"They are beautiful... will they hatch soon?"

"Ah, that depends on how you define "soon". Robins incubate for but two weeks," he says. "Soon for us, but half a lifetime for them..."

His ensuing sigh is soft and contented, almost distracting you from the feeling of his arms finding their way around your waist, and his chin resting on your shoulder.

"Mm... I could stay here all day. Have you slept in a tree before, chéri?"

You've learned by now not to take such comments as jokes, although you're sure he already knows what the answer is.

You smile, your sweet tone tinged with the faintest hint of mischief. "No, not recently,"

"It has been a long time for me. Sometimes I fear I've become too domesticated... c'est bien I have you to bring out the wild animal in me again, hm?"

He chuckles to himself before promptly burying his face in the crook of your neck again, breathing you in.

You lean back into him, earning a little squeeze from his arms. Perhaps you could stay here all day, if not for...

"The essay..." you murmur.

Rook laughs again. "It can wait. I will gladly chance the ire of our headmage and my housewarden..." he clicks his tongue. "Taking risks for you is a delight I cannot help but indulge in."

[notquiteaghost]

[image text: Establishing Shot: The entry / wound by // which I / knew you.]

by andrea cohen

[notquiteaghost]

image text: You want to know what it was like? / It was like my whole life had a fever. / Whole acres of me were on fire. / The sun talked dirty in my ear all night. / I couldn't drive past a wheatfield without doing it violence. / I couldn't even look at a bridge. / I used to go out in the brush sometimes, / So far out there no one could hear me, / And just burn. / I felt all right then. / I couldn't hurt anyone else. / I was just a pillar of fire. / It wasn't the burning so much as the loneliness. / It wasn't the loneliness so much as the fear of being alone.

Nico Alvarado, Tim Riggins Speaks of Waterfalls

[chemical-killjoy]

Healing Kiss

Jack Dawson x Female Reader

Summary: y/n is Struggling™ and in hospital, can her best friend and doctor heal her?

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: mentions of self harm, suicide attempt, sexual and physical abuse, blood and bruises, semi smut. If any of this gets to you, please don't read, it is a STRONG theme. Stay safe <3

Author's Note: ... I got issues, m'kay? Anyway this fic is a little old but I'm finally publishing it. As always if you like it, please reblog, and if you want to be tagged in my fics please click here!! Thank you <3

Jack had never been so terrified in his life. It was just another Thursday night, when the blond man walked up to Y/N's door and knocked, grateful to have a moment free for his best friend. But instead of her bright face opening the door, Jack was greeted by an eerie silence. After waiting for a few minutes and eternity, dread filled his chest. He knew that Y/N was going to be home, the plan was for Jack to come over so you could get his opinion on your latest poem. Y/N doesn't back out of plans.

Jack called out, and for a moment he calmed down, tried to rationalize. Maybe Y/N had lost track of the days again, as often happens when she's writing. But instead of silence, this time he heard a small voice through the walls, calling his name like a question. Without hesitation, Jack broke through the door and ran to Y/N's room.

He'd never been scared of blood before.

The carriage jostled as the horses sped towards the hospital, and a groan escaped your lips at the movement. You kept hearing Jack whispering to you.

“Eyes open, Y/N, do you hear me? Keep your eyes open, please. Please.” His voice broke on the last word. You wanted to answer, to keep your eyes open, but you were so tired, and sleep was so welcoming. You wanted to slip into that abyss, the nothingness of the black ink behind your eyes. Maybe, if you just let the pain go, you could sleep forever. That was the latest plan. But the carriage jostled and bruises collided with floor and you whimpered. There was no rest. But by the time you got to the hospital, you were unconscious.

You woke up with a headache. Such was expected, after the night you had had. The night before came crashing back into your mind, five times worse than the headache. Tom. The fight. Hiding in your bedroom. Tears streaming down your face and a hollow ache of numbness settling over you.

You raised a hand to rub your head when you noticed the bandages. Shame settled deep into your bones and tears sprang to your eyes. What had you done? You took a bad situation and made it so much worse. You shouldn't have fought back. No, you shouldn't blame yourself. Both thoughts spun around in equal measure, making you feel dizzy. What would your family think? What will happen when Tom finds out? Who found you?

Jack.

Oh no, not Jack, you thought. The tears came harder, dehydration be damned, you couldn't stop. The nastiness of your mind started up again. He hates you now, he feels sorry for you, he's going to leave you, you've disappointed him, he doesn't care about you like that and you know it, and he never will now. You started to gasp for air when you heard the door creak open just enough to see Jack's eyes peer through, not wanting to disturb you if you were asleep. You couldn't fake it fast enough.

The door opened wider as Jack walked inside. In just a few strides, he was at your bedside, and for a second you thought you saw him hesitate to come closer.

“How are you this morning?” Jack voice was steel as he clenched his jaw and looked to the ceiling, playing the clinical doctor, not the terrified friend.

“Jack. I'm so sorry.” You said, softly, scarcely concealing the hurt in your heart. You didn't want the voices inside to be true.

Jack nodded once. Twice. And then he kept nodding, as if the more he nodded, the more sense it would make. The nodding turned into a shake and he looked at you with fierce eyes.

“Why?” he asked, anger covering fear as well as a band-aid covers a bullet hole. “Dear God, why?! What happened?” Hesitation gone as he sat down on your bed, taking one hand in his. “Y/N, please, tell me what's going on. You haven't been yourself for months now and I didn't know what to think, and now this?” He took a breath, and shamed still prevented you from looking at his face. “Please, tell me what brought you such pain that you thought death would be better. I'll take care of it, please, just-” You'd never heard the self proclaimed artful dodger's voice break before. “Just don't leave me.” He pressed your knuckled to his forehead, and for a second, the pain of the night before didn't seem to hurt.

You didn't see a way around it. You had to tell someone the truth or you'd burst, and you trusted Jack more than you trusted yourself. After a moment, you took a breath and began to speak.

“Tom. He-” Jack's face hardened immediately at the name of your fiance. He'd never liked the man, half because his gut told him he couldn't be trusted, and half because he was betrothed to the woman he loved. “He attacked me. When I told him the wedding was off. He- he pushed me against the wall, said that I had just been leading him on, that he could make me his wife one way or another, a- a- and and then-” your breathing was coming fast and you could feel a panic attack coming on.

It took Jack a moment to realize what was going on, as he was lost in his confusion. Since when was the wedding off? Who would be dumb enough to attack high nobility such as yourself? What did he mean- oh hell no. The rage came quickly and diminished just as fast when he saw you gasping for breath.

“Y/N/N, breath, everything is alright, calm down. Breath with me. You are safe, you are here with me.” You had told Jack once about the panic attacks, the way it felt like you where drowning in air, anxiety rising over and killing you. You'd explained what helped you through them, even though medically speaking, you sounded crazy. But Jack trusted you, would never think you crazy and would do anything to see you smile.

Jack repositioned himself to hold you against his chest, too scared to squeeze hard, even if that's what you'd previously instructed him to do. The sound of his heartbeat and movement of his chest under you calmed you down a bit, and the hysterical crying and panic dulled to simple tears. You continued talking.

“I was so scared. So I ran into my bedroom, and locked the door. But I could hear him screaming and feel him slamming against the door against my back. And it occurred to me that I can't run from him, Jack. He was right, I'm going to be his one way or another. I just couldn't do it, I couldn't take it. He repulses me, I just...” you stopped talking for a moment in the hopes the tremble in your voice would calm. It didn't. “I just feel like the only way to be free of him is...” you trailed off, leaving Jack to fill in the blank.

Jack pulled back and looked you in the eye.

“No. No, your death is not the answer. Tom, on the other hand...” Jack trailed off. You wanted to be scared but couldn't find the sympathy within you, drained of emotions from the panic attack. “There'll be a way. We will find one. Just don't leave. I cannot fathom a life without you.”

The tears in Jack's eyes only furthered those in yours, until the pair of you were holding each other and sobbing. Jack held you tighter, and for a moment it was comforting, until you breathed in and the pressure hurt the bruises on your waist and hip, making you gasp.

“What's wrong?” Jack asked, immediately springing to his feet and checking both your bandages, but no blood seeped through.

“Nothing, just a bruise, I think.” You said. Only it wasn't just a bruise, it was the mother of all bruises, and you were scared to think of how bad the damage would have been had you not been wearing a full skirt and corset.

“Where.” Jack's question was more of a statement, doctor mode activated.

“My waist and hip.”

You weren't expecting a small blush to appear on Jack's cheeks, but the sight made your heart leap. How could the smallest flush of colour be so adorable and attractive in equal measure?

“Is it alright if I take a look?”

You hated the thought of anyone seeing your body, let alone the person you loved seeing the markings of the man who hurt you, but you also knew you were in hospital and this was your doctor concerned for your health. You pushed down the blankets, and Jack gave you the slightest nod to double check if it was OK. When you nodded back, Jack took the edges of your nightie and slowly and gently pulled it up, fingers softly grazing your skin.

Jack sharply gasped when he saw the bruises, a deep blue and black spreading from your just below your waistline across most of your right hip, and a smaller purple bruise on your lower ribcage. He lightly touched the skin around the bruising on your hip.

“Y/N/N,” Jack said softly, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

You took that the wrong way.

“I know. Alright? I know, it's ugly, I'm ugly, and I'm scarred, I'm damaged.” Jack looked up at you with those big eyes that you loved, care and concern brimming his eyes as the words you'd been keeping flowed out. “I hate this all so much. I hate the bruises, the scars, I hate how I feel unsafe in my own mind, that I am unsafe in my own home. I hate how one minute we're all children, safe and adored, and bruises can be solved with a quick kiss better, and the next we're adults, the bruises last and kisses complicate.” You sniffled. “I wish all this could be healed so simply as a kiss better.” You went to wipe your eyes, but Jack beat you too it, quick as a flash, drying your tears and looking into your eyes with a playful smirk. Though he was too scared to let it show, his heart was nearly beating out of his chest as he spoke.

“I'm not magic, but as your doctor, I'd like to give it a shot.”

“What?” you asked, heart caught in your throat, assuming he was kidding or just about to kiss your cheek.

“A kiss.” You looked at each other for a moment. “To stop the pain.” Jack clarified, backtracking with fear. You merely nodded.

The hand that was cupping your cheeks after drying your tears softly trailed down your arm, turning it over so the bandage covering the cut was facing him. Jack raised your arm to his lips, and though you couldn't feel it past the bandage, you fought yourself to maintain composure. Jack turned your arm back and held your hand, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. He looked into your eyes as he brushed his lips against your knuckles. His lips were soft as they touched your fingers, and you were speechless. A small shiver worked it's way down your spine.

You mistakenly thought Jack would stop there, but Dodger was nothing if not bold as he shimmed back to kiss around your bruised waist. Feather-light fingers gently touched you before settling on your waist, as he lowered his mouth to the top of your bruise, just under your ribs. Small pecks peppered all around your bruise, inching lower, until the kisses became more. More sure, more of a kiss than a peck, but light enough to leaving you longing. By the time Jack had gotten to the base of your bruise, you were breathing hard and suppressing a moan by biting your lip as one of his hands was on your inner knee, the other near your bruise, partly on your hip, partly on your ass. He slowed down slightly, looking up at you with what could only be described as hunger and desperation, as though he'd been wanting you for so long that he could barely contain himself.

“Jack-” you whispered.

There was a knock on the front door and Jack barely had time to pull your nightgown back over your legs and sit up when Hetty came in.

“Sir, we've got-” Hetty faltered for only a moment upon seeing your flushed cheeks and Jack's red lips and ruffled shirt. “Ah, we've got three new patients for you to see before midday, if you're free soon?”

You were mad at Hetty for interrupting, but grateful for her grace and tact.

“Yes, yes of course, I was almost on my way out, just give me one moment with Miss Y/L/N, please.”

Hetty lowered her head and closed the door behind her.

For a minute, neither of you could look each other in the eye, too scared of what you'd show and what you would or wouldn't see back. Jack broke the silence.

“So,” he cleared his throat. “Er, if you need anything, at anytime, call the nurses and ask for me, alright? Even if you start to feel distressed for only a moment, even from your own mind, call for me. I don't want you to be alone right now. I-I can't let you get hurt, Y/N. You're-” he stopped himself before he could say 'my world', adding instead “you mean too much to me.”

And with that, Jack slipped out of the room, leaving you to analyze the kisses. You already felt better.

[bloodypeachblog]

The Tumblr Yandere Quintet (Peter, Sunny Day Jack, John Doe, Damon, and Alan Orion) - my personal headcanons SFW + NSFW

(TW: blood, knives, death, cannibalism, anything associated with yanderes will most likely be here, so you've been warned)

A/N: btw they coexist in the same universe here. Like, let's say they all live together in a house with Y/N. Why? Because I can. Also this is all F!Reader, so yeah.

~♡~Peter~♡~

• He is shy boi when it comes to you. He acts confident, but underneath he is lowkey panicking.

• But towards others, he is brat. Just, burns and roasts up the wazoo. It's like the person flips the switch and activates his bitch mode.

• he loves playing video games, anything that seem interesting to him. He loves Dead by Daylight and his favorite role is the killer.

• True Crime Aficionado. He listens to podcasts, watches documentaries and movies and YouTube videos, he knows serial killers' stories like the back of his hand.

• he can cook and bake pretty well. He's not Gordon Ramsay levels of good, but he very rarely makes a bad dish. He likes to make food for you and watch your reactions to it.

• as a boyfriend, he is such a hopeless romantic. Roses, poems, serenades (he's not confident in his singing voice, so he plays songs that say whatever he's feeling and sends you the youtube link to listen to them, or just blaring them on the radio outside your window), the whole shebang. Of course, he's not obnoxious about it. Just enough to make you swoon.

• You guys know that old famous photo of a soldier kissing his girlfriend after WW2? Yeah, Peter loves doing that to you.

• pet names for you: Darling, Honey, Baby, Princess, Angel. Basic stuff.

♡NSFW♡

• he likes to nibble on your ear. He loves your reactions to it.

• guy is a straight-up pervert. He'd grope you when you're alone and make dirty jokes. You'd blush tomato red each time.

• angel on the streets, devil in the sheets. More like incubus in the sheets. He will find ways to make you moan his name.

• WHAT DAT TONGUE DO THO? OH LAWD Seriously, when he eats you out, you swear you can feel the very tip of his tongue brush against your cervix.

• favorite positions are missionary, mating press, and doggy style. But he likes oral too, both sides. He loves feeling your warm mouth taking in his cock, he struggles not to cum right then and there. He loves your taste, he can't get enough of it.

•some nights he can be gentle, other nights he'll fuck you into the dirt.

• his cock is about 5.6 inches, good thickness. Not the dick of the gods, but still something to brag about. Very pretty, too.

• Knifeplay? On you, depends on if you're into it or not. On him, FUCK YEAH. He fantasizes about you using a knife to write your name on his chest. Getting cut gives him the biggest hard-on, he'd be already dripping pre-cum. And if you lick the cuts? Oh, this man will cum immediately.

• Anal? Hell yeah. If you're okay with it, of course.

~~~~~

~♡~Damon~♡~

• He's more chill and laid back. Also he's emo. Because I said so.

• He likes listening to music. He likes any genre, but he tends to leans towards emo bands, stuff from Lapfox Trax, and metal. But you play a country song, he will destroy the radio or debate on murdering the artist.

• He wears his puffy coat almost 24/7. I say almost because he can't wear it in the shower. He loves to share it with you, the whole two person in one coat thing couples do.

• he's a cuddle bug, but won't admit it. If you tease him about it, he'll deny it and blush.

• he acts like a kuudere to others, if not annoyed. But when with you, he's so sweet. He'd give you his umbrella if it's raining and you didn't have one.

• Dude can cook, if you can call preparing instant ramen in the microwave 'cooking'.

• This guy loves meat and chewing on bones, so I bet he is also a secret cannibal, but only eats his victims. Gotta get rid of the bodies somehow! He has Peter help with preparing and cooking the meat, but Damon never says where he got it. Peter knows, though, but he don't really care.

• pet names for you: Babe, Sweetie, Lovely

♡NSFW♡

• Favorite positions are you on top, and the position where you're on your stomach and he has your arm behind your back.

• He is SO loving and gentle most of the time. He just wants to make sure you're getting enough. You will cum many times before he even finishes.

• but once in a while, expect to be sore in the morning, some bruises here and there from how much he grips you.

• master of seduction right here. He will whisper in your ear the sweetest yet dirtiest stuff, maybe some erotica limerick/sonnet he found online. His voice is so smooth it makes your core tingle just by hearing it.

• his dick is pretty average, but it's not a bad thing. It gets the job done just fine and you're not complaining.

• he does have a bondage fetish. He loves to tie you to the bed and on special occasions, like your birthday, he'll tie himself up and let you do whatever you want.

• Anal? Nah. Unless you beg for it.

• dude loves meat, so... he has a dolcett fetish. (Don't know what it is? ...eh google it, I'm not your mom. But don't say I didn't warn you.) He never acts on it really [he may eat people, but he doesn't get off to it because he feels like he'd be cheating on you], but his phone and laptop has a folder with hundreds of pics/videos of dolcett porn. Sort of a guily pleasure fetish, emphasis on the pleasure.

~~~~~

~♡~Alan~♡~

• He is such a good boi. Sweetest boi in the world. Pure sugar cookie.

• he is the outdoorsy guy, hunting, fishing, camping, all that stuff. Dude lives in the woods.

• he's the one who brings home fish or game for dinner. Preps it himself in the garage. Expect to find some deer or birds hanging from the ceiling.

• he's a pro at bonfires. Knows all the different ways to burn wood.

• Cooking? He prefers to grill or cook over a fire. He sometimes indulges in Damon's choice of meats, but no one ever tells him what it is. So don't tell him. It'd break the guy...

• he is such a sweetheart. Asking if you're feeling ok, if you need any help with anything, just so considerate. Heavy follower of PDA.

• unashamed cuddler. When you two go camping, he has you in the same sleeping bag as him.

• HUGE astrology and astronomy nerd. He will talk your ear off about the star constellations and tell you your horoscope of the day and if you are compatible with him or anyone else in the group.

• pet names: Doe-Eyes, darling, honey, dear, love

♡NSFW♡

• he's more on the gentler side of things. Perfect candidate for your first time. He will comfort you if it hurts and praise you so much.

• favorite positions are where he can look at you splayed out and writhing in pleasure. Mostly missionary.

• man is a pussy eater. On bad days, he gives you puppy dog eyes and asks to eat you out. With those eyes, you can't help but say yes.

• he likes to nibble and bite. Favorite place to bite is your thighs. He can leave marks, but never breaks skin. If he does, he'll stop and patch you up.

• his cock is the smallest in the group, but not in general. It's pretty average, nothing to complain about. He's a grower, not a shower. You secretly find his cock (both erect and flaccid) adorable, but you never say that to his face.

• does he do anal? Only if you ask him to, but even then, he's hesitant. He will make sure you're prepped well.

~~~~~

~♡~Jack~♡~

• the ray of sunshine in the group. Always trying to cheer people up.

• he loves to give hugs any time, any day, any where

• he is such an 80s retro nerd. He has a collection of games and movies from that era. Favorite movies are The Breakfast Club and Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Favorite arcade game is Dragon's Lair or Pac-Man.

• definitely the fashionista of the group. He loves to create outfits for you to wear, making sure the colors compliment each other. He does this for the other guys too, but some are not sure how to feel about it.

• dude is the kind of guy who would wear a nun's halloween outfit as his costume for reals and awaken some people while wearing it. He makes any outfit sexy.

• Cooking? He prefers to bake. Champion at breakfasts. Favorite thing to make is blueberry pancakes.

• Himbo. Just. Pure grade-A himbo.

♡NSFW♡

• bruh, this man will be cheery and bubbly during the day, total daddy at night. Holy shit.

• he will show you that you are his and only his. He's only sharing you with the other guys just to make you happy.

• man's got a body like Adonis. He's got a chest where he got man tiddies.

• his cock? HOLY FUCK. He's the biggest out of the group and he has to force his way inside you sometimes (this is canon, I swear, I've seen that clip). It is downright BEAUTIFUL. You swear, he is some sort of god.

• his favorite positions are 1) where you're both on your sides, him behind you, lifting your leg so he can plow you while kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings and dirty shit in your ear. And 2) that position where you're on your belly and he is behind you, raising your ass to him and he has your arm pinned behind your back.

• he is definitely heavy on the praise. He sees you as a goddess. Expect him to make you cum multiple times before he even gets inside you, just to make sure you're putty in his hands and ready for him.

• does he do anal? Fuck yeah he does. But he's very careful about it and only does it when you say it's ok.

~~~~~

~♡John♡~

• and then there's John.

• he's just a crack baby.

• sorry, John Doe stans. I just couldn't get that much on this guy.

• he's essentially the pet dog of the group. But it's fine, he's into that.

• he's pretty much a feral animal.

• is fueled by energy drinks and Doritos.

• he LOVES when Damon feeds him the special meat he's collected. He gobbles that shit up.

• dude snuggles you like a puppy. He can be cute and sweet when he wants to, don't get me wrong here. Puppies are always sweet and cute.

• hates baths. Y/N has to chain him to the tub in order to bathe him.

• usually stays in his room. He plays Call of Duty with Peter and loves to watch zombie movies. Favorite movie is Cannibal Holocaust and City of the Living Dead. Ruggero Deodato, Lucio Fulci, and George A Romero are his idols.

• Cooking? No idea how. Anything already prepared is perfect for him.

♡NSFW♡

• you into werewolf quality sex? John's your guy.

• expect tons of nail marks and bites all over you once you're done.

• man will make you bleed.

• some nights, the guys will hear you yell "CHILL THE FUCK OUT!!" from your bedroom.

• he will almost eat you alive, he's that feral.

• Does he do anal? Duh.

• favorite position is you up against the wall.

~~~~~

Yandere Quintet Dynamics

Peter & John Doe: Gaming buddies

Jack & Alan: Big bro (Jack), little bro (Alan)

Peter and Damon: Constant dick-measuring (metaphorically, of course) at first, but now partners in crime (oh they'll double-team ya). They like discussing true crime stuff, enough to where they have a podcast.

Damon & John Doe: Man (Damon) using dog (John Doe) to hide evidence.

Jack & Peter: total nerd buddies. Trivia night is horrible with them.

Jack & John Doe: kid being terrified of dogs (Jack), rabid dog (John Doe)

Alan & Peter: another big bro (Peter), little bro (Alan) dynamic.

Alan & John Doe: hunter (Alan) and his hunting dog (John Doe)

Jack & Damon: guy (Damon) is annoyed by the other guy (Jack), but secretly enjoys his company.

Damon & Alan: same deal as Damon and Jack, but Damon will kill anyone trying to hurt or be mean to Alan.

~~~~~

Aaaaand that's all she wrote! Hope you enjoyed this feast!

[princessbiteme0o0]

Um this is like my first time asking but I have an idea which I really like so here I am asking!

So basically Ted is in theatre school with you and he your in the same class and you were paired up to do a scene of Romeo and Juliet. And there was a kissing scene you had to do.

In the evening Ted and you do into the theatre empty to practice the scene and you were really scared to do the kiss and he helps you out and then it slowly from a kiss gets more passionate and deep then… you two ended up doing the dirty in the theatre.

but during sex, he becomes more dominant and degrading like “imagine you took me like this infront of the class next week? You would look like a total whore.”

AHHH I HOPE ITS OK! and if you do it then I will give more ideas defo 💗

I adore you (and everyone that asks), having said that- this is BY FAR my favorite one 😭 Shakespeare is one of my favorite writers, along with Poe.

Thank you, Nonny and thank all of you that enjoy my writing!! It genuinely makes me SO HAPPY to see people enjoying and appreciating my writing.

Mainly for my home girl- @writingduhh 🩵🩵🩵

Having said all of that…

FIRST OF ALL- I don’t think Ted has a kinky bone in his body; I think he’s a cute lil vanilla baby, but fuck it we ball. MINORS DNI. I FEEL LIKE IT SHOULD BE OBVIOUS AT THIS POINT.

Warnings: smut, slight bullying, degradation, praise, sexual tension, arguments, (kinda enemies to lovers), slapping (not abusive- purely sexual), choking, spit kink, spanking?, fingering, p in v, creampie, breeding kink, unspoken daddy kink?, melodramatics, ‘pup’ and ‘puppy’ used (don’t judge me) but no pet play, As always, let me know if I need to add more 🩵

Shakespeare in Love (Teddy Nivison x Reader)

—🩵—🩵—

She thought she was far over having to work with him on this play. She thought it would be a simple one and done; that maybe he’d have a simple two or three liner part. However, the moment she read the names next to each character, she felt her heart drop to her stomach. There it had been, in big, bold letters:

Tybalt- Kyle Jean

Capulet- Chris River

Juliet- (Y/N Y/L/N)

Romeo- Ted Nivison

She still remembers the anger that she felt at him for even auditioning, the rage directed at the casting director, the dread she felt at knowledge of the script; but like any good actress, she played it off.

So now, she sat on stage, reading over the script while waiting for mister always late. Had it have been better (and easier) circumstances, she probably wouldn’t have noticed the door to the auditorium swinging open. Her eyes lifted and met his gaze, smirk and all. She felt a heated anger drop to the pit of her stomach, but that smirk caused a different kind of warmth to drop between her thighs. Rolling her eyes where she knew he could see, she stood to her feet while looking over the script once more.

She was a tall woman, she knew that, but he was so much taller. His shadow lingered over her and when she looked up at him, he wore a goofy grin, eyes boring into her. “You ready, Pumpkin?” He asked in a mocking tone that made her eye twitch for a moment.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” She grumbled softly, glaring up at him. He reached his hand out and his fingertips ghosted over her bare shoulder and down her collarbone.

“Why not?” He pouted lightly, fingertips brushing up her neck now. “I know it feels good.” He whispered the second part, winking at her and she raised her hand to slap him, before the director scolded her.

“(Y/N)! Let’s save our emotions for the audience, hmm?” He shouted over the talking students in the room. Everyone went quiet and turned their eyes to her, making a warm blush flood her cheeks.

“You’re so cute when you blush for me.” Ted teases softly, pinching her arm.

Today is going to be a long ass day…

—🩵—🩵—

She watched on with fake love in her eyes as Ted read off his lines like a beautiful poem, especially for her. He took her hand in his as he continued, voice warm and welcoming, as if it were a soft pillow for her to lie back on-

“If I profane with my unworthiest hand, this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.” The words weren’t his, but the look in his eyes and the way he said it so clearly to her made her body grow warm. My character, it’s just his character speaking to mine.

“Good Pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do not touch, and hand to hand is holy palmers kiss.” She spoke skeptically, eyes watching his every move. As he moved his body closer to hers, she had to fight the urge to step back. She could practically feel the magnetic urgency trying to pull them together, but she denied it, craving the comfortability in safety. His hand carefully raised to her jaw, cupping it with a gentle palm.

“Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?” His voice was softer, careful almost, as if he was afraid of her pulling away. Taking in a sharp breath, she paused a moment, seemingly forgetting her lines- though she was quick to steady herself.

“Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.” She placed a careful hand on his chest in an attempt to push him away, but he slipped an arm around her waist, fingertips resting in the small of her back. She knew it was coming, yet the more he touched her, the harder it was to keep up the boundaries she held.

“O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray: grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.” His words were a deep rumbling whisper as his other hand slid up the side of her body. His fingertips gently massaged a path up her shoulder, her collarbone, just to rest carefully on her jawline. His thumb carefully ran over the apple of her cheeks as she struggled to find her line once more.

“Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.” Her mouth ran dry as he leaned forwards ever-so-slightly. She felt heat strike through her body and liquid heat pool in between her legs.

“Then move not while my prayer’s effect I take.” His voice is deep rumble that vibrates her to her very core. When he leant down and pressed his lips carefully to hers, her world suddenly burst into vibrant colors, warmth immersing the room in the fireworks that flew between them. Both parties had a difficult time pulling apart, but she managed to pull away, only to realize she had a firm grip on his hair. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Ted struggled to get his line out without stuttering, “Th-Thus from my lips, by then, my sin is purged.”

His eyes didn’t leave hers for even the slightest millisecond of time and his grip around her just tightened; until the director and everyone else in the class clapped. “That was absolutely stunning.” The director calls out. Almost instantly upon realization that they weren’t alone, they quickly tore apart from each other- she was blushing madly, while Ted just wore a look of confusion.

—🩵—🩵—

It was a few hours after practice and most of the staff went home, while she sat on the stage, silently going over her lines. She was reading through every detail, looking for every emotion. Lying back, she laid the script over her face, mind still flying from the previous events of the day. Suddenly, she heard the sound of footsteps and a soft shift of air around her as whoever it was sat beside her.

“Ted…” She grumbles, without even moving the script from her face. She knew it was him- of course she did, she hates him. His scent filled her nostrils and tempted to distract her.

“(Y/N)…” His voice is gentle; hearing him say her name like that was a surprise. Reaching up, he gently pulls the script away from her face. When her pretty eyes meet his, he smiles softly and just watches her for a moment. “Can we talk?”

“Hmph.” She lets out a soft puff of air and crosses her arms.

“(Y/N).” His voice is still gentle, but this time it takes on a warning tone. She looks back up at him through her lashes and sighs. Rolling her eyes, she moved to sit. “Now that you’re situated… Why do you hate me?”

“Can we just go over our lines, please?” Her eyes are silently pleading, but he just slowly nods with a soft sigh of succession.

“Where do you wanna start-�� He’s quickly cut off as she basically launches at him, crashing their lips together in a heated kiss. His mind is telling him to pull away, but everything else is telling him to pull her closer. His hands grip her hips, tight enough to leave bruises and he helps her climb into his lap. Pulling away, he looks up at her with a small smirk, “If you wanted me that bad you just needed to tell me.” He teased gently.

“If you want me at all, you’ll shut the fuck up.” She growls lowly. Raising a brow at her, he reaches behind her and places a firm slap on her rear.

“You better check your attitude with me, Sweetheart.” A squeak left her lips when he spanked her and she jumped, making her grind forward against him. Ted bit back a groan and closed his eyes. “Princess…”

The warmth in his voice and the tempting softness in his eyes made her melt right there in his lap. She was careful and hesitant with each movement she made. Exploring the new territory was terrifying, but it felt so… Right. Her lips traced along his neck, kissing and sucking every exposed inch of skin she could reach. Her canines would occasionally scrape over a patch of skin and her tongue would dart out to soothe it.

“You feel so good… Being such a good girl for me.” Ted mumbled, eyes closed and simply enjoying her sweet touches.

“You taste so good, Teddy.” She mumbles against his skin, tongue flicking out over his pulse point. “Makes me angry how good you feel.” Letting out a deep, breathy chuckle, he pries her away from him and lays her back on the stage.

“I know, Honey, I know…” He coos, pulling her shorts down her legs. His eyes settled on the wet patch on her panties, light hitting it and making it glisten in the most tantalizing way. His mouth watered at the sight. “Why don’t you let me make you feel good? Hmm? I bet you taste as beautiful as you look.” A high pitched whine leaves her lips and she grabs for him to try and pull him close again, but he denies her, instead moving his hands down her thighs and massaging the skin there. His thumbs kneaded her flesh, making her relax for him.

“There ya go, babes… That feel good?” He hums, hands creeping just slightly higher. A soft moan of relief leaves her lips.

“Yessss…” She hisses out softly, eyes fluttering shut.

“You seem to be carrying quite a bit of tension here…” He says smoothly as his hands move to the inside of her thighs and slowly creep higher. “But I think most of your tension is held here.” His fingertips brushing against the wet spot on her panties made her body jolt and a mewl sound around them, the sound bouncing off of the walls.

“Ted.” She whimpers, making him chuckle.

“Oh yeah, you’ve got so much tension… Right here.” As he finished his sentence, he gently pressed his thumb to her clit, making her back arch away from the stage and up towards him.

“Teddy!” She cries out in a lewd beg, hips moving against his hand in a desperate attempt to gain more friction. His thumb just continued to move in slow circles around her throbbing bud, making her cunt clench around nothing.

“What’s wrong, Hon? Hmm?” He teased, watching as her wetness continued to soak through her panties until she was dripping on the stage floor.

“I- I can’t- ‘S too much!” She cries out, nails digging into the skin of his forearm that she held onto for dear life. The confidence in his eyes flared and changed to a much darker expression, pupils blown wide with lust.

“Aww, does it feel too good, Pumpkin? Can’t handle feeling so good?” He mocked her in the most condescending way, but it made a whimper leave her lips as her eyes flashed open and met his. “You’re going to lay there and take it like the filthy slut you are.” He growls lowly, free hand slapping the outside of her thigh hard enough to leave a hand print, but her squeal morphed with a lewd moan of desperation.

“Yes Teddy… I- I can take- take it.” She stuttered out, legs shaking. His degrading hit her body like a truck, making her head go fuzzy. Ted nearly lost it when he saw the pure submissive state that she had slipped into, her eyes staring up at him innocently.

“Look at you, Princess…” He mumbles, pushing her panties aside and slipping his middle finger into her. Her breath caught in her throat and her lips parted in a silent moan. Her eyes locked on his as he curled his finger upwards to hit her most sensitive spot. “So fucking pretty.”

“Ted-“ She tries to speak, but he quickly shushes her. He slipped his ring finger into her as well and placed his free hand on her abdomen, very gently adding pressure. The feeling intensified for her and she cried out a sob, body shaking.

“You know I won’t let anyone else touch you now.” He mumbles, working his fingers faster and harder. “You’re mine now. Mine to degrade, mine to praise, mine to fuck… Mine to protect.” As the words continued to fall from his lips, her chest swelled with a new, overwhelming, uncertain emotion. Her cunt tightened, just as her chest did when she realized what emotion he was evoking in her.

“Ted I-“ He’s quick to cut her off.

“No, Shhh… Trust me, (Y/N)… Let me make you feel good, then you’re free to go back to hating me.” He speaks softly, eyes watching her face, rather than her body.

“No, Ted I want you.” She whimpers softly, her voice so soft and so weak. She sounded so innocent. “Please.” A warm smile broke out across his lips and he nodded, pulling his fingers from her and popping them in his mouth. A low groan rumbled through him, and he closed his eyes to savor her taste. When he pulled his finger free from his mouth.

“So fucking sweet.” He growls, literally ripping her panties from her body. “Because of course, the world’s biggest brat has to have the sweetest little pussy I’ve ever tasted.” He unbuckled his belt and yanked it off, folding it in half. Ted used the folded leather as a riding crop, slapping the outside of her thigh. “Spread ‘em, Cupcake.”

A smirk crossed her lips at the opportunity so clearly in front of her. Shaking her head, she huffed out one simple word, “No.” Ted grabbed her ankles and yanked her towards him. Giggling wildly, she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Mmh, maybe I just won’t let you cum…” She whined at the idea, pouting and smacking his arm, making him use his free hand to hold hers down. “Maybe I’ll just stuff you with my cum and plug you up. Let you throb around a silly toy instead of me.”

“Teddy!” She basically begs, tears of frustration welling up in the corners of her eyes. He let out a warm, hearty laugh at her response and slowly dragged the belt across her abdomen, using it to brush her shirt slightly upwards.

“Aww, poor Pup wants me to breed her?” He asks, raising a brow as his free hand carefully massages her hip. She quickly nodded her head and her hands made a little grabby motion for him, a high pitched whine leaving her lips.

“You’re so precious, Honey.” He hums, undoing the button on his slacks and pushing them down -along with his boxers- just enough for his cock to spring free. Biting her lip, she watched as precum dripped from the tip and fell onto her thigh. Her eyes slowly went up his body to settle on his, boring into his soul.

“I wanna taste you, Theo.” She fluttered her lashes at him in the prettiest, most sweet and innocent way she could.

“As tempting as that sounds, I don’t think you deserve that treat today, Puppy.” He hums, gripping her legs and placing them over his shoulders and leaning so close to her that his lips brushed against hers and he whispered, “You only get what I chose to give you.”

The second that he finished his sentence, he buried himself to the hilt. A cry tore from her throat as her back tried to arch, but couldn’t as he pressed further forward, basically bending her in half. Her hands flew to his back and her nails bit into the fabric, nearly tearing the threads apart piece by piece.

“I’m gonna fill you up until your pretty little body can’t hold anymore.” He growls lowly, biting her lower lip. His words made her cunt tighten around him in an attempt to draw him in even closer. Drawing his hips back slowly, she drew in a sharp gasp when his hips lurched forwards, burying himself inside of her once more.

“Teddddyyy nnngh!” She chokes out, body trembling beneath his and he chuckles darkly, mouth attaching to her.

“What’s wrong, Cupcake? Can you not take it?” He mocked, cooing in her ear as he quickened his pace, fucking into her harshly and caging her in with his arms beside her head. She wildly shook her head, grappling for him with her nails nearly shredding the fabric of his shirt.

“P-please- ta- Ahh~ take it off.” She stutters out, gripping over little moans and whines. Ted found it impossible to resist her pleas when they sounded just so pretty. He kept his eyes on her face as he felt her nails dragging down his back.

“That feel better, Hon?” He mumbles and she buried her face in his neck.

“Yessss…” She hissed, teeth biting into the skin of his neck. “Oh God, Theo…”

“If I’d have known that you’d stop being such a fucking brat, I would’ve fucked you sooner.” He growls, sharply slapping the outside of her thigh as he changed the angle of his hips, making her let out a shaky sob. Tears fell down her cheeks as her vision clouded. Ted smirked as he hummed, watching the way her body morphed and changed position with every thrust.

The way he filled her so full, made her mind fuzzy and her thoughts fade away. Her cunt tightened around him as she threatened to fall over the edge, “Please Ted!”

“I dunno, Pumpkin. Do you think you deserve it?” He asks, halting in his movements, making her so frustrated she nearly screamed.

���Please, please, please, I’ll be so good, I swear. I’ll be so so so good for you Theo, please.” She begged and pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Gimme a kiss then, cutie.” Before his sentence was even complete, she launched herself forward, capturing his lips on hers. While she was distracted, he slipped his hand between the two of them, thumb massaging quick circles on her pretty little bud, picking his thrusts back up. His ministrations, made her let out a squeak against his lips as the band in her belly stretches so tightly that it could break at any second.

“Go ahead, Honey. Cum for me and I’ll fill you up. How’s that sound? Want me to fill you up? Get you all round with my babies?” His words were all that she needed, her world exploding into stars and butterflies as her orgasm hits her like a comet hits the earth, shattering her every nerve. Ted watched as her mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ and her eyebrows pinched together. He held eye contact with her the entire time, reminding her to breathe as she rides off the effects. “There ya go, there it is. You alright, Sweetie?”

Her breathing began to steady as overstimulation kicked in, “‘M good, Teddy… I wan’ it.” She mumbles as he helped her move her legs from his shoulders to around his waist. His thumbs gently massaged her hips as he slowly picked his thrusts back up.

“I know, honey… Shh, it’s okay, I’ve got ya.” He speaks calmly, watching her as she starts to come back to attention. “There ya are… Welcome back to reality, Sweetheart.” He chuckles softly, giving her a goofy smile. A giggle punctuated by a soft moan leaves her lips and she smiles up at him, her own hands gripping his biceps and rolling her thumbs over his skin.

A soft groan leaves him and he lets his head fall to her chest as he struggles to hold it together. “My God, you’re so fucking tight. Gonna squeeze the life outta me.” He grumbles, placing gentle kisses over her chest as he lazily rolls his hips against hers. Her fingers gently card through his hair as she mumbles her own praises to him.

“You feel so good, Ted. Ya’ make me feel s’ good.” She hums, locking her legs around his waist as he starts to lose his pace. Lifting his head with the little energy he has left he gives her a questioning look.

“You sure you don’t-“ But she was quick to cut him off.

“Cum for me.” She whispers in his ear, placing a careful, open mouthed kiss on his neck. Right when she spoke, her pussy clamped down on him, making his eyes roll back in his head as his hips stutter and he bottoms out inside of her.

“Mmh, fuck…” He growls, filling her to the brim. “So good for me… Takin’ it so fuckin’ well.” His head falls to her chest and he mumbles something into her shirt. Whatever he said made him blush, the tips of his ears going red. She gently cups his jawline and lifts his head to look at her.

“What did you say, Theo?” She asks gently, thumb running across his lip. He paused and just stared at her for a moment, silence floating between them.

“I can’t believe you never realized how in love with you I am.”

[notquiteaghost]

[image text: Childhood is this: you suffer, you hate, you forget. You forget what it was but you never forget how it felt. You still hate and you still hunger for revenge. You didn't think you would feel this way.

I've changed, but not into something better. I'm haunted by feelings of things I can't remember but what would I be without the ghosts? The opposite of a haunting is something very lonely. /end]

The opposite of a haunting is something very lonely, Katie Maria

(by @heavensghost)

[berrybanana-arts]

Billford Reccs (as requested!)

@gratych requested some CONSENSUAL Billford as there is a LOT of noncon and dubcon out there... NOTE- Always check the tags!! These are Billford reccs so abusive/manipulative behaviour tends to be in literally all of these even if only as a 'oh god in hindsight this is sad' way.

RF- Researcher Ford (Pre-betrayal) PB- Post-betrayal W- Weirdmageddon AU- Alternative Universe (e.g. One Of Us)

Just as a note- I'm pretty sure ALL of these are Triangle!Bill.

*SFW*

Starstruck by FireFlerg899- RF Cute and fluffy with a hint of angst and manipulation because it's pre-betrayal. What a contradiction! Stargazing.

Something Said Before- FireFlerg899- RF, PB, W Mentions of torture, goes through all 3 eras echoing the same phrase.

To Destroy, To Remake- FireFlerg899- AU, PB Deliciously dark Ford, tempted by power!

Break and Bind yourself to Me- kingsteeth-RF, PB Poetic and different. I enjoyed this.

Future Talk- anysin, RF Bill talks to Ford about the future and coming to visit him. Light warning for pain/blood/emotional manipulation. Funny Bone - anysin, RF Ticking, fluff

Silent Lies- Perlumi, PB Ford reminisces on the past. Minor self-harm, angst, references to NSFT themes but no actual sex.

Knock on My Door- sugarboat, PB (portal) I LOVE this one. Bill finds and patches up a wounded Ford because only HE is allowed to mess with Sixer. Graphic description of injuries, hurt/comfort, weird fluff.

The Writing of Destiny- Nelja, RF Oof. Love this one- Ford believes everything has led him to Bill. Lovely fic.

Reality is an Illusion- chaseandcatch, RF, PB OOF. Sweet and short. Ford looks back on his first journal entry about Bill with... uh... new information.

I can be cruel to you, my love- orphan_account, RF? PB? Unsure. Prose poem, love this series (Hymns).

thoughts that are above you (i've gotten so good at lying to myself)- orphan_account More prose poetry! forever cursed in love are the observant- orphan_account More sad prose poetry. Bill puts Ford in a time loop until Ford gives him the answer he wants.

*NSFT:*

CLEAR consent-

Ford is super duper into it in all of these! Warning, a LOT of these are pre-betrayal and therefore Ford is technically being duped into thinking Bill is his friend so the consent IS dodgy in that way. Enjoy!

I search myself, I want you to find me- dieslaudata, RF Bill is having some fun with Ford's body while Ford watches. Consensual possession.

Contrast- dieslaudata, RF Choking, in a sexy way rather than a dying/torture way. Love having to clarify that /hj. Consensual possession. Holding Onto Everything- sugarboat, AU, PB AU where Ford accepted Bill's deal many years ago and they are in an established relationship, of sorts. On One Condition- anysin, RF Voice kink, conditioning, coming untouched, etc

Calling You- anysin, RF Ford summons Bill in a more... Unconventional manner.

Up to the Neck- anysin, RF Jealous Bill. Short, but Bill's blustering always amuses me.

Everything Stays- sugarboat, RF "Only one of them sees the inevitable end approaching"- LOVE this caption. PWP, tentacle sex, praise kink.

First- Pengychan, RF Fluffy, awkward, cute!- "Full access to one’s mind comes with a few downsides, like stumbling on private fantasies the All Seeing Eye could have lived without ever having to see. Not that they’re not kind of flattering. And really, there’s a first time for everything."

Count to 100- kikaikitai, RF Ford summons Bill in a more... unconventional manner. Again. This is a running theme in Billford NSFT fics and I love it. Praise kink.

Incubus- kikaikitai, RF Sequel to Count to 100. Ford loses himself in his sexual relationship with Bill. Weird demon sex, consensual possession, worship, etc. This is a fun one. Obviously manipulative fuckery from Bill. Ford is DOWN BAD, though.

Restless Sleep- GoofyGoldenGirl, RF Massage, fluffy NSFT.

Trignometry- wubub redux, RF Alien biology, Bill helps a 'distracted' Ford concentrate. Ford wants to reciprocate.

Territorial- Pengychan, RF Mentions of sex. Bill saves Ford from a creature torturing Ford with cruel words, pretending to be Bill... Yes, the irony is painful.

Vibe for this section- Consensual! But more dubious/dark than the last section.

Ranges from 'Ford is capital M mad at Bill still but also DTF...' to 'hoo boy this is a little dark!' Read at your own risk, you've been warned. Check the tags!

Are you ready to drink or are you waiting to drown?- sugarboat, AU Body horror, tentacle sex High Esteem- anysin, RF Jealous Ford. No sex, just Bill being very manipulative, gaslighting Ford and telling him what he wants to hear.

Blood Offering- nelja, RF No sex, just a ritual involving self-harm and dark thoughts from Ford as he summons Bill after a long absence.

A change of scenery- nelja, RF No sex but there is burglary, tattooing, and suggestive themes.

Golden Nerd Doll- nelja, W No sex but- objectification, possessive behaviour, etc from Bill who lacks any sort of self-reflection abilities...

Ghosts of Love Past- nelja OK, WARNING, this one is kissing, if not straddling, the dubcon line. I'm popping it on the list because 'non-consensual bondage' is literally in canon. TLDR- Bill chains Ford (Weirdmageddon) and pets his hair. Ford has a visceral reaction to this which he hates/loves/hates.

I hope you enjoy the fics! I've been careful not to spoil them too much but do be careful- Billford is always a tricky one, as much as I love it.

-Berry

[try-set-me-on-fire]

How about odd socks for the soft prompts?

Eddie tries to write his vows. Poem excerpts from E.E. Cummings’ [i carry your heart with me(i carry it in], Mary Oliver’s The Mango, and Pablo Neruda’s Finale. Plain text version on AO3 here and under the read more!

Dear Buck oh its not a letter

Buck

Evan Buckley (?)

From the day we met, I

I take thee to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part except I don’t want to stop loving you when either of us die. I don’t want to part. Till the glaciers have melted and the oceans have dried up, till Mount Whitney (the tallest mountain in California, I looked it up) is eroded to a molehill, till the heat death of the universe do us part. Maybe that will be enough time

I keep thinking about that time you wore those fucking socks to work and Bobby and everyone were trying to really gently asses if you were having a breakdown because we just see AND YOU’RE GOING TO DIE on your ankle and then you laughed and pulled up your pants and it said “GET LOST IN NATURE AND YOU’RE GOING TO DIE” which like I still think is kind of a fucked up thing to put on a sock but you just did one of your beautiful sunshine grins (we weren’t even together but god I still got light headed looking at you) and were like “I thought it would be neat to remind people the importance of safety in nature” and I was kind of teasing and annoyed and laughed about it and that was like three years ago Buck and I still feel guilty about it because if you were going through some kind of crisis I don’t ever want to be annoyed and laugh about it, I want to be there for you no matter what and I hope I’ve proven that to you over the years, that I don’t just love you on easy days, I love you every single day all the time even when everything’s fucked even if I can’t write wedding vows to save my life christ this is terrible

I love your nose and your birthmark and your eyebrows and your hair and your shoulders and the bends of your elbows, and your wrists and hands, and I love your nipples and hip bones and cock and ass and knees and your shin, I love the scars on your shin, I love every scar you have because none of them killed you

How about

i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

Or

But this was a rich house, and clever too.

After salmon and salads,

mangoes for everyone appeared on blue plates,

each one cut in half and scored

and shoved forward from its rind, like an orange flower,

cubist and juicy.

When I began to eat

things happened.

Or

your head on the pillow,

your hands floating

in the light, in my light,

over my earth.

It was beautiful to live

when you lived

The world is bluer and of the earth

at night, when I sleep

enormous, within your small hands.

Before the ceremony I told Shannon “It’s going to be okay” and in the moment I believed it because I had her and I was scared but she was my best friend and up there in front of her parents and mine I said the regular vows but I think that first one was what counted even if it didn’t end up being true. Maybe I’ve been telling you my vows for years. You can have my back any day. There’s no one on earth I trust with my son - with our son - more than you. Every time I tell you I love you, isn’t that a promise?

I’ve been happy before in my life, despite everything I don’t think I was an unhappy man, not always, only sometimes, but you make me happier than I thought was possible. That kind of feeling when you laugh too hard and you’re not getting enough oxygen to your brain. Isn’t that romantic, you give me hypoxia

Here’s the thing you know I’m going to get up there and just start crying immediately so I don’t know why I’m trying so hard to find words I won’t even be able to get out

No hi this is me two hours later of course this is important you’re important you knowing how much I love you is so important to me and I will stand up there blubbering at you for hours if that’s what it takes

I trust you. I love you. I am happy with you. I want to wake up beside you always, Buck I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you next to me first thing in the morning (or night or afternoon or whenever we’ve finished sleeping), touching your warm body with your lungs breathing and your heart beating and the solidity of you feels like a miracle

I’ll buy you socks so your feet don’t get cold and I’ll bring you fruit because you like to eat sweet things and wherever I live will be your home and I’ll be by your side as long as you do me the honor of wanting me there and everything I have and am is yours and I

[astralnymphh]

unrelated but please write more fluff 😭😭 i loooove your way of writing sm 🩷

okay, let me just think of something random I can make into a poem to lighten my blog a little. think i'll do artist!ellie. first drabble thats mostly just poetry woop woop? (you'll see this kind of stuff in any fluff/angst/fantasy au i write) cw: internal organs mentioned, kinda angsty? idk sorry i get DEEP. thats it.

There's an artist in the bungalow.

She's got a mane of fire and a heart of clay. She is everything but skin and bone— for she has borne houses of stars and planets alike. The cosmos is her, and she is the cosmos. In her kindled hand is a means to create, whether she a weeping willow or gone livid in the pursuit for her head. Anguish be her tale of past days over this bungalow, because when all hope was sunken without acquainting grace, you rose upon it on two feet in ache.

You've a body similar— wrists that rebuke gold and sprout isles of lichens interchanging of your fine sylphine hairs. Borne was you, arteries dropped like glue and fled this earth like wax into hot gas, rising and rising somewhere new— instead, branches lie dying with you, inside you, a part of you, giving life to the marrow that is pulsing you. Wood is rot, bark is flaying, you are falling, that is okay. For the cosmos are desolate and resplendent with corpses by the shedload too. She is you, and you are her.

That's why she reached out for you, gave a hand made for crafting— and crafted you her partner.

One day, she took you through her quaint, oaken bungalow. A finger she lifted, pointing out everything mundane and.. commonplace. She pointed at her casement brown—trim windows, calling them the 'eyes of our house', watching the eons age this house away. She then pointed to her hallways, and likened them the 'throats of our house', swallowing every being and spitting them out a whole new person. She would give a last point, towards her bedroom and deem it the, 'heart of our house', for it pumps with life and watches bodies lie there— aging, waning, ever becoming moribund with their lovers held dear, pulse to pulse.

And you question sweetly, "Why are you telling me this, Ellie?"

Why?

Why elucidate the likeness of a visual so natural and so unquestioned in the form of organs? You question, but you do not look. Ellie replies, smooth of her tongue, "Wouldn't be fun if I just said it was my house." completely skipping the main trigger for question— 'our, our.. ours' and no longer just, 'her, her.. hers'.

It is your house. It is her house. It is a bungalow.

No odds about it, be it a jerry—built swamp house, a boxy mansion cruelly boasting over a crag, or a cottage swarmed in pixies preordained to rot in the woods it relies life on; it is a being. It eats personage, lets them linger, and absorbs them at the end of their existence— just like the earth will when it dies. Houses are like us.

Roofs see the same night airglow we gaze at, splayed amongst the grass, you lay with her.

"There's the little dipper, and.. that's the big dipper." croaked Ellie, aiming that same pointer towards the realm above, the dotted fabric we call 'the sky'.

"How can you even tell so easily— is there something wrong with my eyes?" quipped you, pressing the flank of your fist into your cinched eyes, clearing them.

"D'ya need me to point them out again?" She rolls upon her side, rending grass stuck onto her back, "Cause I can point you all the constellations visible right—"

Silenced. You push up on elbows and toss a hand to cradle, bringing her face into yours for a word—gobbling kiss, letting the dying hum vibrate down your chest. Ellie talks too much.

"Nhhmm.."

Satisfied. Spit smacking apart, it draws a line from pink plump to your plump of lip, and severs when you depart enough.

Her lower lip rolls inward, sucking sweetly of the spit you laid upon her mouth, coughing, "Ahem— that.. so you don't want me to show?" Dumbass. "No."

"Ooh—kay," drawled Els', the shuffling of leather and lawn surfing through your senses just a moment as she adjusts, planting that charmed chin on your shoulder— smushed like a rotten apple, "No show." and smiled, bless her smile.

So you lay, let the lay of petrichor waft into your head, and sleep away. Sleep away the life, sleeping away with yours— and hers.

just a teensy bit rushed but hope this is suitable

[notquiteaghost]

[image text: poem, titled Refusal to Mourn, by Andrea Cohen. poem reads:

In lieu of flowers, send him back.]

Please, send her back