#now learning reflection highlights

[kineticallyanywhere]

this took too long at any given moment I could be thinking about one or more Oak character

[autumngracy]

Not me creeping up to the wordcount of the fourth longest book ever written

[nitw]

OKAY REAL TALK. i'm on episode 5 rn. if this keeps up the way i think it is then this show is such a fucking genius adaptation, and i never would've seen it coming

like yeah, an animated scott pilgrim series authentic to the comics and the story bryan originally wanted to tell would've been amazing too. but when you think about it, SCOTT'S story has already been told to us more than a few times now. even if the live action movie took a different turn by accident, the overall message of "well-intentioned people can still make, and should still take responsibility for, mistakes that hurt those who care about them, and indifference will only end up hurting them back" still sticks for the most part.

but it's mainly been from scott's perspective. which makes sense! he's the main character, so, obviously!! but here's the thing: ramona has ALWAYS served as a reflection of scott's issues. ngl i think this is one of the most consistent things in the entire franchise, and it's why i love ramona so much. as we dive further into her backstory we learn just how much of a wall she's built around herself, how she's afraid of trusting people, but especially that, as sympathetic as she is, she's also caused so much (unintentional) damage herself. although she's introduced as someone literally too good to be true and unreachable by scott's standards, it becomes more and more apparent how similar scott and ramona are, and so they're perfect for guiding each other towards a brighter path.

and what better way to highlight this than to flip the tables completely, putting RAMONA center stage aka making the audience intimately familiar with her immediately, making SCOTT the mysterious damsel in distress/goal at the finish line instead, driving ramona to face the 7 evil exes and making amends with them in a way scott never could???

also can i just say. HUGE SHOUTOUT to the marketing team for hiding this reveal SOOOOO well. like seriously, i was worried they were showing TOO MUCH in the trailers BUT I WAS WRONG. WE GOT PLAYED SO HARD

[minisugakoobies]

Match My Freak | JWW

Pairing: Voyeur!Wonwoo x Reader

Genre: smut, non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: non-consensual voyeurism, dirty talk, non-consensual use of camera/recording, masturbation (f), use of sex toy (vibrator), mentions of masturbation (m), mentions of oral sex (f receiving), cumming in pants, unreliable narrator, Wonwoo is not a good guy here (ymmv)

Word Count: 1.8k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Your neighbor loves it when you put on a show for him.

A/N: Yeah so... I just like the thought of a Wonwoo who likes to watch. 🤷‍♀️

🚨 IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH NON-CONSENSUAL VOYEURISM, DO NOT READ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. DO NOT COMPLAIN TO ME - YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU CHOOSE TO READ. 🚨

Unbeta’d as usual. If you like this, please let me know! I’d love to hear what you think (but please be kind I’m fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

The sun’s beginning to set when Wonwoo takes his seat in the ratty old armchair by the open window. He removes his glasses, carefully wiping them clean with a cloth he pulls from his pocket before placing them back on his nose. He’s a little early tonight, but it’s fine. He’ll wait. He’s a patient man. 

The minutes fall away like dominoes, each one ticking into the next. The sun dips lower, casting dark shadows over the alley that separates his apartment building from the one next door. A flicker catches the corner of his eye and turns to look, gazing into the window directly across from his bedroom. As he sits quietly, patiently drumming his fingers on the soft cushioning of the chair, a figure enters the room.

Wonwoo has loved you from the moment he first saw you. It’s been a little over six months since you moved in across the way. In all that time, he hasn’t learned what you do or where you’re from or even what your full name is. But it’s fine. None of that matters. 

He’s sure you were made for him.

You walk around your bedroom, following the same well-worn path that you do every evening. Disappearing into your bathroom and emerging a few minutes later in a silky bathrobe. Sitting at the vanity to attend to your skincare routine, gently massaging your beautiful skin with rich creams and moisturizers. Wonwoo appreciates the way you care for yourself. He likes that you have your nightly rituals. He has his own, too.

He reaches for his camera.

It’s late summer, the time of year when there’s no relief to be found at night, the air just as warm and suffocating as it is during the day. Sweat prickles on Wonwoo’s forehead, but he ignores it. He’s glad your landlord is as cheap as his. Air conditioning units would only make this difficult for him. He’d figure it out, of course, but it wouldn’t be as easy as it is now. 

Sometimes he thinks it’s a sign from the universe, how easy this is. Proof that the two of you are meant to be.

He brings his camera to his eye, playing with the focus, until the pretty face reflected in the vanity mirror is perfectly clear. Click-click-click goes the shutter, the only sound that can be heard in Wonwoo’s bedroom, other than his heavy breathing. 

His room is pitch black around him. Wonwoo’s always been comfortable with darkness. It hides all manner of sins. It hides him from your view on nights like this, even when you walk over to your window to lift the sash. A light breeze ruffles the bottom of your bathrobe, exposing more of your thighs to Wonwoo’s hungry eyes. His finger strokes the shutter button again. 

You undo the belt of your bathrobe, letting it fall open, and Wonwoo captures the reveal of the sheer babydoll chemise beneath. It skims the tops of your thighs, not quite covering the matching pair of panties you wear with it. Wonwoo’s gaze roams over your body, admiring the way the clingy material highlights your skin. He loves when you dress up for him. You never bring anyone home. Who else are you wearing these things for, if not him?

Of course, you’ve never acknowledged his presence. That’s part of your game, isn’t it? To display yourself for him but never look at or talk to him. Put on a show but never react to him taking your photo or touching himself. 

He’s very good at playing your game. After all, he wants to win. 

You’re a worthy prize.

You recline on your bed, propped up against a stack of pillows, and start scrolling on your phone. As he watches, shutter clicking, your free hand slides down your torso. Your fingers curl, pressing into your covered pussy, rubbing in slow circles. Oh. Wonwoo swallows thickly. 

It’s one of those nights. 

Silently, he puts his camera down again. Locates the button that switches from photo to video. And clicks it. 

The red light flickers on. 

Wonwoo quickly brings the camera back to his eye, practically cracking his glasses in the process. He fixes the focus, aiming the lens at the hand between your legs. As you start to caress harder, your legs part slightly, giving him a clearer view of your panties. The tiniest swirls of lace are visible to his eye, as is a growing wet spot. He silently thanks the universe that he splurged on an expensive camera model. 

Your nightgown is rumpled up around your waist as you press your hand more firmly against your cunt. It isn’t enough, judging by how you dip your fingers beneath your panties to glide over your slit.

“Come on, baby.” Wonwoo wasn’t planning on adding narration to this recording, but the words slip out anyway, in a low, urgent tone. “Slide them in.” He zooms in again, on the wetness gleaming on your fingertips. 

He’s disappointed when you pull your hand away, but that feeling is short-lived when he sees what you’ve reached for - the bright red toy that you keep under your pillow. It’s long and thick and Wonwoo feels his cock jump at the thought of it spreading you open. 

He could use it to help stretch you for him. 

Swiftly, rather desperately, you shimmy your panties down your legs, and Wonwoo’s mouth floods with saliva, nearly choking him as he stares entranced at your bare pussy. He wants to put his lips on it, kiss it until you’re squirming, pleading for him to slide his tongue inside. You’d make such a beautiful mess of his face. 

His earlier impatience is forgotten now as you work yourself up, dipping the tip of the vibrator in and out of your soaking folds, the quickening rise and fall of your chest letting Wonwoo know how much you’re enjoying teasing yourself. By the time the toy disappears into your cunt, Wonwoo’s just as breathless himself, and hard as a rock. 

“Yeah, just like that,” he murmurs, adjusting his lens again to capture the deft movement of your hand. “Fuck yourself for me.” For him, just him, and no one else. 

As if obeying his very command, your hand moves faster, and your mouth drops open in a pleasured gasp. Wonwoo groans. If only he could record the sounds you’re making, too. But you’re not loud enough for his camera to pick them up from here. 

He clucks his tongue. There’s no way he’ll accept such weak noises when he’s the one fucking you. He’ll coax loud cries from you any way he can. 

Your body undulates like a wave, hips canting as you plunge the toy deeper, and something inside Wonwoo snaps. There’s too much distance between you right now. With an aggravated huff, he slips off the chair, kneeling in front of his window. He lets his camera rest on the window sill as he lines up his shot. It’s better. But it’s not enough.

He needs to be closer.

As quietly as he can, he clambers out onto the fire escape. 

He’s taking a risk by being out here. There are no lights in the alley, but the glow of the moon is bright. That doesn’t stop him. He moves silently, crouching against the chipped metal railing, camera peeking through the slots, closing the distance between you as much as he can. 

For now, anyway.

His grip on the camera turns to iron. He’d rather fall off this fire escape than drop it. He glances around the alley, double checking that there’s no one else around. Once he’s reassured that it’s just you, him, and the moonlight, he refocuses - first his mind, then the lens. 

His breathing quickens as the toy slides into your folds again and again. He’s never envied an inanimate object more. He licks his lips, imagining the taste of you on his tongue. You’re not sweet, he’s sure of that. There’s nothing sweet about you, the way you tease him, leaving your curtains open like this. Inviting him to watch. 

Tempting him to do more.

His cock strains against the fly of his jeans, and he drops a hand to his crotch to squeeze himself, biting back a moan. Desire overwhelms him, but he can’t risk jerking off out here. The absolute last thing in the fucking world that he needs right now is to get caught. That would fuck up his plans. That would destroy him.  

Your other hand plays with your breasts, pushing your babydoll up until one is exposed, thumb rolling over and around the nipple. Wonwoo pictures himself there, lying beside you, head bent to take your other nipple in his mouth. He’s not sure he’d be able to hold himself back and allow you to finish yourself off. His fingers twitch at the thought of taking the toy from you and fucking you with it, through orgasm after orgasm, until you’re both drenched in sweat and exhausted.

He shoves the fantasy aside for later and retrains his steady gaze on your motions. He grips himself again when you start to pump the toy in and out faster. Your hips rise to meet each thrust, and Wonwoo might ruin his boxers at the sight. Fuck, he can see through the zoom how soaked the insides of your thighs are. He palms his erection slowly, trying to give himself just the slightest bit of pleasure, not enough to tip it over, only enough to feel good, and that’s when you start to come. 

As he gawks open-mouthed into the lens, your pretty pussy swallows the tip of the toy one last time. Then your hand suddenly lets go, grabbing a fistful of sheets instead. You shudder and writhe, and Wonwoo nearly drops his camera as he loses control too, the wet warmth of his cum spreading in his pants. 

Doubled over on the fire escape and breathing hard, it takes him a moment to regain his composure. Once he’s recovered, he stops the recording, and lifts the camera to his eye again to take another look. You haven’t moved from your bed, but you did remove the toy, and now have one hand tracing lazy circles around your clit. He wonders if you’re going to go again. Some nights you seem insatiable, seeking your high with a fervor that gives him chills to recall.

He’ll make sure you get your fill, when it’s time. 

For now, he’ll keep on watching. 

He’s always been a patient man. 

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[princessbrunette]

⊹ ᜊ(ᜊ ´ ˘)੭ ♡ … TASTE ♡

track one of the short n’sweet series. pairing: bunny!reader x puppy!reader — based loosely off the song taste by sabrina carpenter. disclaimer: this story is based in a separate universe to the usual pogue!puppy / bunny!reader universe! enjoy ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა

sometimes, relationships just don’t work out.

it wasn’t totally surprising — and looking back on it, to pup — it seemed as though it were doomed from the start. they were from totally different worlds, rafe being a kook and pup being a pogue and at first, truly she found it kind of romantic. the whole montagues versus capulet type of vibe that made her only wanna pin herself harder to rafe cameron’s side.

what made her love him was ultimately their downfall. he was downright mean most days, from the way he’d tug her about to the way he’d shake her head anytime she did anything he deemed too pogue-ish. rafe cameron is one of those few men that are so gorgeous that they could get away with murder, quite literally — so it wasn’t to anyone’s surprise that she put up with him for so long. that cruelty that she allowed was a reflection of how she truly felt about herself on the inside. undeserving of respect. each time he’d fuck her into the mattress with her face planted into a pillow, creaming uncontrollably around his base — she’d be revelling in the physical affection no matter how rough and violating it came across— even more so when he’d hold her at the end of it. always short lived, always fleeting, always made her feel better.

she’d escaped that relationship to learn how to love herself. with experience now under her belt gained from the kook himself, she was free to navigate the world and search for someone that just might touch her with a gentle hand. gone were the days she craved a strike to the cheek or blunt fingernails gripping into her ass. softness was what she needed, and by god she’d find it.

she didn’t actually think she’d care to think about him much more down the line a few months later— he was merely a thing of the past and honestly puppy was doing a lot better because of it. but unsurprisingly, old feelings were surely drug up when the kook boy who she forgot to unfollow all but jumpscared her on her instagram feed. not his usual self worshipping post of him on a yacht, no— it was her old rafe, with a girl on his arm. clinging to him just like pup did.

the girl was tagged, and puppy didn’t hesitate to press. it was just curiosity, she told herself as she scrolled down the sea of pink feed this mystery girl had created— a couple of pictures with rafe already posted. she was jaw dropping, a kook no doubt from the looks of her bedroom in the background of her mirror selfies. a prom queen, as titled in one of her posts with a tiara from a good few years ago at the bottom of her feed and an ex beauty pageant baby judging by the throwback thursday pinned in her highlights. there was this gentle yet pampered and spoiled energy around her like the world fell at her feet. a fluffed up, well fed bunny rabbit in a hutch of gold.

pup started to see bunny around more and more since finding her instagram. the pogue girl would find herself ever so slightly ducking out of vision upon spotting the two of them loading up onto rafes boat as she sailed past. her skin seemed to glow in the sunlight and pup wondered if rafe was the one to massage the sunscreen oil into her skin, taking extra time to massage it into the plush skin of her ass, even smirking when she squealed and told him to watch his hands in public. as they stand at the pier, rafe has a gentle hand on her lower back, fingers tucked ever so slightly into the waistband of her bikini. he looks… soft, and non threatening. touching her like she was made of glass, touching her gentler than he ever touched puppy.

puppy’s heart all but stopped in her chest when she served bunny at the checkout of the store she worked in. she supposed rafe couldn’t have been far, sending bunny in alone as to not have an awkward run in with her knowing she worked there. a part of pup wanted bun to be rude. she was a kook after all — and aren’t exes supposed to hate the new girl? of course, she was nothing of the type. sweet and patient, with good eye contact and a perfect smile. it should have made pup’s blood run cold. should have.

instead, pup buried herself in the weird guilt that sat on her chest when she’d find herself typing bunny’s instagram handle into the search bar and sliding a hand down her shorts a few nights later, in need of quick relief. she told herself it was purely physical, a strange bodily reaction to jealousy and comparison — and the fact that bun had her tits hanging out her top in every picture, and pup could distinctly remember the way her ass cheeks jiggled as they hung beneath her short hemline when she exit the store she works at. nothing more than a quick, weird orgasm.

bunny had heard whisperings of the girl rafe was with before she arrived in kildare. a pogue, not that it mattered but she was simply surprised. by the way rafe spoke so ill of those from the other side of the island, bun couldn’t help but wonder what that relationship looked like, why it ended, how. she tried to be subtle in asking around of course, purely out of curiosity — but words to quell a non existent insecurity were thrown vaguely her way instead, quick to put down the other woman. “you’re so much better with rafe. it just makes sense, you know? that girl before you… sheesh, i don’t know. pretty girl, but a real scruffball. i don’t know what rafe was thinking.”

the same thing carried through when she even tried to ask rafe, who simply scoffed and shrugged her off with a “why? who— who cares about that bitch.” before continuing on with his heavy petting, moving in to kiss her jaw. bunny turned her head away in thought.

bun’s heart rate picked up a bunch when they started to kiss. she must’ve been a sick perv for feeling curious, because each time rafes tongue passed over hers she could only imagine how many times the same wet muscle would glide through the pretty pogues folds to land up near her clit. she wondered if he ever treat her that well. she wondered if you deserved it.

when puppy heard that rafe had been speaking ill of her at the country club once more, she didn’t think — just immediately marched to tanny hill to confront him. perhaps it was unwise of her to think rafe cameron could be mature enough to handle a breakup without talking down on her — but regardless, she had done too much healing and growing to let things slide.

with blood pumping in her ears and anger thrumming in her gut she marched right into the open doors of tanny hill, figuring he’d be home. but after calling his name a good few times, demanding his presence in the foyer — she decided to go looking for him herself, mary-jane converse plodding up the stairs in the direction of his bedroom. a chill settles over her skin at not only the eerie silence, but the fact it had been a long time since she’d taken this oddly familiar journey.

swinging open the doors, pup is met with a gut wrenching sight. it wasn’t him stood before her, but bunny— and she’s clad in a stupid little pink silk robe.

“oh i’m not — i was coming to find rafe because— he’s — he is being an asshole.”

bunny looks nothing close to surprised. infact, she moves slow— blinking her dolly eyelashes as she takes it all in. pup was the last person she’d expected to see, and yet it was not unwelcomed. she wondered why she wasn’t shocked regarding an acquaintance barging angrily into the house. why she’d felt her presence from a block away.

“i know.” she breathes, and it’s all she says.

twenty seven minutes later, and pup finds herself on her back in rafe cameron’s bed once more— months after she told herself it was the last time. though it wasn’t rafe that had her throwing her head back and digging her pastel-painted nails into the sheets, it was the glittering cloud of woman between her thighs, lapping up each drop of juice that seeps from the peak.

bunny is hungry— she’d never eaten a girl out before but god does she know what she likes, twirling her tongue like a tiny ballet dancer in circles around pups poor swollen clit. the pogue is beside herself, feet pressed flat to the bed so she could raise her hips and hump against the girls mouth. she’s sure she’d had a dream like this once that she tried to erase from her mind.

knocked back by the force of puppy’s humps, bun pulls back to look at the girl all bleary eyed and fucked out, lips glossy despite her makeup being wiped off a while ago from their frantic, confused and desperate kisses.

“s’it your first time? rafe never…” she whispers, like saying his name made it more likely they’d get caught.

pup shakes her head, broken out of her trance with a wobbling bottom lip. “n—no. never. he said— said i wasn’t — he just wouldn’t—”

“oh gosh.” bunny sighs in disappointment. “literally can’t imagine why not.” her manicured fingers spread pups puffy folds, and she whimpers in arousal as she watches the pogues pretty clit twitching in desperation to be sucked on again. “i jus’ dont know what it is…” her hot breath kisses pups clit anyways. “but ever since i knew who you were… jus’ wanted to know what it was like…” she smears her lips around the area pup needed her the most, if there was any lipgloss left over it would have transferred to her skin. “to taste you.”

pup had to say, the feeling was mutual.

[hypnagogics]

heh.. okay, so you asked for different.. rubs hands together villaniously as i materialize from the bottomless shadows..

sub!vampire!ellie biting/bloodsucking denial.. reminding her how much of a good girl she needs to be even when your wrist is practically just brushing past her lips to cradle her face.. or when the weakest bead of blood is pricked from your finger.. flaunting it.. teasing.. goddess bless throw in whatever else you see fit freakmaster

TEMPTATION WAITS

before you read! ▪︎ my masterlist ☆: co-president...this is absolutely divine...shoulda seen the way i dropped everything for this im literally #TWEAKING. new fav thing i've ever written methinks. title song. (vibes aren't there but the title was too good.) ps: if you spot any typos i wrote this with one hand. KIDDING...or am i? divider creds—cafekitsune. ◇: not outright smut, but still suggestive!! and nsfw is described. fluffy end bc i think she earned it, lore sprinkled in because why nawt it's interesting, finger sucking (e! receiving), this is maybe a lil ooc idrc, she's described as looking quite ill in her vampiric form + begs like her century long life depends on it fr, (but also has a bit of an attitude, it issss ellie after all), mean!r, talk of blood/previous bite wounds. ++ 3.3k wc. doesn't need to be that long but atp? take it or leave it LOLL. filing under "oneshots" bc it's way more than usual reqs hehe.

“Please, baby. Just one taste. I'll do anything.” Desperate, shaky pleas spilled from Ellie, her voice noticeably tired from the effort. She's been at this for what felt like forever now, and you were getting tired of ignoring her. Or rather, a little bored.

She was kneeling on the wooden floor by your bed, fisting the creased sheets, trying to capture your attention. The shimmering moonlight was dancing on her features as if it was a sparkle of fireflies, making her oddly colored eyes appear to glow, and highlighting her sickly appearance.

In her vampiric form, her skin was tinted a ghostly—even chalky—white, barely a smidgen of blush dancing on the apples of her cheeks. Her eyes shifted from their original grassy green to a peculiar duochrome blend of emerald and ruby. She really looked unwell, but you knew it was merely a product of circumstance, her gloomy fate.

Ellie donned somber dark circles around her eyes, her lips withered, pale, and thin as a piece of tissue paper. Just behind them though, rested two deadly weapons of her very own—sizeable, razor-sharp, gleaming ivory canines reflecting the scarce lighting as if they were made of mirrored glass.

For the first time tonight, you met her gaze, assuming an unbreakable poker face. Her keen sight could pick out the most subtle of twitches, so you learned to defeat that. The moment you met her line of sight she perked up, her eyes widening in glee, you had finally acknowledged her existence after so long.

Scooting forward you placed yourself right in front of her still kneeling form, sitting so she was in between your legs, but she wasn't allowed to touch you until you said so. What torture.

She began again, “Can I do something to make you change your mind? I'll do anything. Anything in the world. I'll make you feel re-really good, and then I won't ask again…ever even, if that's what you want. Just please let me…I'm so thirsty.” She was rambling a million miles a minute, slurring her words and cutting herself off with hiccups, stuttering like was having a nervous breakdown.

Her chest heaving up and down was visible to you despite the dim surroundings, and you could just make out her facial expression—a pained grimace, as if she was experiencing all of humanity's greatest suffering. When you didn't reply but stayed observing her blankly, she sighed and hung her head in shame, you almost felt bad. Almost.

You extend a hand, twirling a strand of her hair—previously silky and vibrant, now as lifeless and dull as charred hay—and you feel her relax under your touch. You continue raking your fingers through her locks, scratching her scalp with your nails, and you hear her exhale forcefully. She's likely overwhelmed by your scent—it's invigorating, fresh, and full of life.

“Have you been good?” You pipe up with a voice colder than ice, softly caressing the flesh of her tense cheek, and letting your fingertips travel to the underside of her chin. You gently tilt her head up, noticing the way her eyelids flutter to a close. She's soaking up the heat radiating off of you, making sure to feel the sensations of your skin brush against hers as much as she can, commit them to memory for when she's apart from you.

Her lips part, allowing for hushed, woeful whimpers to pour out, and she instinctively bites her bottom lip to quiet herself. Only she forgets about the powerful daggers in her mouth, and almost pierces right through her own skin.

Taking notice, you tut at her, warning clicks of your tongue bouncing off the room’s walls, contrasting the dead of night’s eerie silence. Tsk, tsk, tsk. You push the pad of your thumb down on the plush of her lip, angling her jaw side to side, examining those killer gnashers she's got.

“You could hurt yourself with these y'know, be careful.” Her eyelids flicker open, she's staring up at you with the biggest doe eyes she could muster, somehow all while maintaining such a strong glare you feel as if she's trying to challenge you.

“I'll decide if you can have some, as long as you're good, and you let me have some fun first. Alright?” You explain in a neutral tone, earning a cute “mhm” of confirmation from the undead being before you. “Good girl.”

You slowly slip your thumb into her mouth, avoiding her fangs at all costs, and you let her wrap her slippery tongue around your digit, watching how her cheeks hollow and her eyes roll ever so slightly while she sucks, moaning as she takes in your taste—nothing more than just skin.

You chuckle at her desperation, revel in the power dynamic you have created. “Mmm, you taste so good, so sweet.” She mumbles, swirling her tongue around your thumb, coating the entirety of it in her spit. You allow it for now, but soon enough, to no surprise, she slyly tries to shift to the side in preparation to slice you and get her treat.

You sharply retract your hands from her, removing your finger from her mouth with a pop, disappointed by her greed, her audacity. She turns to the side and pouts, huffing and rolling her eyes with more attitude than a moody teen. “What did I say?” You calmly hiss at her. She whispers, almost inaudibly, “Sorry…taste so good, can't help m’self.” Her voice wavered, and the moonlight illuminated the faintest tinge of red across her features, it was nearly invisible.

But you could tell exactly what was up. She shifts uncomfortably in her spot, grunting with laughable, pitiful attempts to rub her thighs together, fingers toying with the cloth of her pants, putting her frustration on full display. You looked at her struggle, unable to contain your grin.

It was a different kind of high, seeing such a feared and fabled beast kneel before you in such a pathetic manner, but it turned you on like nothing else. It was also evident she enjoyed it as well, no matter how much she didn't want you to be aware of the fact. The extent to which she worships you and handles your body, the way she was willing to beg and let you order her around showed just how much you meant to her—it was beautiful in its own way, how devoted she was to you. You were her person.

The fact she couldn't stifle her desire anymore after all this time suggested a shift in the atmosphere of your wicked games, the tension in the air was getting impossibly thicker, and you were loving every second of it.

Ellie, you've got a short memory.” You tease, then gesture to the gauze wrapped around your forearm, protecting two puncture wounds left by none other than her just the previous night. She looks at it and cocks an eyebrow, grouching, “Yeah, I see that, what about it?” The husky edge to her voice had returned, the defiant attitude you loved to crack was back in full force.

“Hundreds of years old, you even have memories of wars, and you can't remember what happened, like, 24 hours ago? Wow…” Your voice is so patronizing, it's unpleasant and abrasive on the ears, even your own. She shrugs her shoulders, still kneeling on the cold, hard ground at your mercy. “Well let's have a refresher then, shall we?” Tearing the tan-colored bandage apart with a single rip, you reveal the puncture marks—they were still wet and irritated, the wounds reopening immediately at the slightest movement.

Ellie whines like an animal, a crude “ahh”, and she starts pleading harder than ever. “Please, baby, my pretty, my angel, please, please, pleasepleaseplease, just lemme have a drop, just one. That's all, I swear.” Her gaze darkens exponentially, if you didn't know her it would instill fear in your heart, but luckily you were well aware of all her tricks. She snarls, “Fuck you. I'm literally on my fucking knees right now. Why are you doing this?” Her voice breaks angrily, wobbling with great lust and need—the need to have you, the need to drink you and fondle you and taste you in all senses of the word, and at this point she didn't seem to care about preserving a morsel of her dignity, she was simply so drunk on you, you couldn't believe.

You reiterate the previously established explanation, “We have an agreement that says you're allowed to take my blood once a month, so you can have some more each time. Rather than taking a little bit but more often, you requested this yourself. And you already drank lots yesterday. Does that not ring a bell?”

She groans, a gravelly, guttural sound that had you coming back to your senses and realizing, this was technically, a monster who you loved so dearly.

It led you to wonder—to her kind, what was so special about the liquid coursing through your veins?

When you split your lip open as a kid, clumsily tumbling face-first onto the asphalt, or bit your tongue while eating something stubborn, the strange, metallic taste was purely disgusting. It had a certain heaviness to it, both physically with the way it sat in your mouth, but also mentally. Like a subconscious awareness you were not meant to consume it like she does, but to spit it out the millisecond it made contact with your taste buds. There were times where the thought made you queasy, the measly knowledge of just how much of this fluid was inside you, keeping you alive.

But to her, it was a completely different story. She lapped it up with such fervor, such thirst you've never seen before. A sloppy frenzy like there wasn't a single thing more delightfully flavorful.

Her teeth penetrating all the way through your epidermis, dermis, and hypodermis, and straight through the vein wall was a feeling you're likely never going to get used to. It stung, it really did, and you were quick to get all woozy from the blood volume loss, but Ellie knew your limits—even though hers were not even close. Her thirst was insatiable.

The intimacy of the act was a whole separate topic to think about too. It was such an erotic experience, and when probed about it she argues it's better than sex, somehow. When she drinks from you, Ellie is really messy with it, you noticed. Blood dribbles down her chin and stains her lips as if it's a designer lip oil, the distinct deep maroon color sometimes appearing clownish and too intense against her fair complexion.

She was really handsy as well, and you weren't sure if it was purposeful, but you didn't care to ask because you didn't really mind in the first place. It felt nice. Her muscular hands tend to trace your waist as she's suckling, hovering by your ass, and traveling north to knead the supple tissue of your breasts.

And how could you forget about the sheer proximity of it all, even when having sex normally, it didn't feel nearly as intimate or vulnerable as this. Her body would be tightly curled around yours, she couldn't bear to have one meager square inch of her not touching you.

When she drank from your neck, it was bordering on heavenly, you had to be honest with yourself. There was something about the combination of the light headed, dizzying feeling it brought you, her closeness, the licking sensations, and the hungry sounds she produced that all together mixed to form nothing short of a mind blowing, intoxicating concoction.

When you both were feeling it, she'd be able to draw breathy moans to fall from your lips, and would giggle into your skin before sucking harder, leaving bruised marks surrounding the punctures. You read in some folklore that vampires carried a sort of aphrodisiac in their fangs, or was it their saliva? Again, you didn't really know all the details, but the sessions made you both yearn for each other in a way that felt taboo to discuss—midnight feedings often turning into animalistic fucking, sometimes even simultaneously.

Like having Ellie latched onto the side of your neck while she grinds her dripping pussy onto yours, her pleasureful mewls filling your ears, or having her hold your wrist to her mouth while her other hand is pleasuring you into oblivion, prodding against your spongy walls, making your head spin.

The time you spent lost in thought, she had broken the rule of not touching you unless you said so, but all she had done was rest her head on your knee, zoning out, sulking like an injured puppy. Unfortunately for her, you weren't done torturing her just yet. You didn't move her off of you, she was just laying there, grumbling curses under her breath, saying how mean you were, how much she despised you and everything you stood for, although both of you knew the truth—she had said herself, “I've never tasted blood like yours,” and you felt intrinsically bound to her on a subconscious level, these were mere amusements you indulged in, that ended up beneficial for both.

She got her delicious elixir of life, at the cost of you having your way with her for a bit. You hear her sniffle, the little defenseless sound of defeat was able to break your act.

You resume stroking her hair, and she wraps trembling arms around your thigh. “Hmm?” You coo, putting on a sweet facade. “Don't talk to me like that, c'mon man.” She wails, the attempts to regain control over her voice proving unsuccessful.

You took your nails to the newly formed raspberry scabs on top of your bite wounds and picked them off, and she lunges to grab your arm with inhuman reflexes, but once again you emerge on top, having spent so much time memorizing every last one of her behavioral patterns, so much so you knew exactly how she was going to attempt catching you and moved out the way without thinking about it.

“Too slow, you've gotten predictable.” You ridicule her, embellishing your voice with the most fake, sickly sweet tone you could just to irritate her as much as you possibly could. Ellie lays her head on your thigh, sighing. It's like she's given everything up. Her own patience was running out, potentially entering unpredictable territory now.

You squeeze the sides of the hole in your skin to coax a bubble of bright red blood to ooze out, marveling, “It's such a nice color, I see why you like it so much.” You talk to her coolly, ignoring her tearful, yet terrifyingly rage-filled glares, her massive fangs bared as if you were a prey animal she caught herself and was preparing to rip apart.

“Want a taste, Ellie? Have you earned it?” You think out loud, comically tapping your chin to exaggerate the brainstorming act. “Whatever, it's not like I have anything left to say to you.” She sounded heartbroken, you've never seen someone have such sorrow, the sheer misery behind her eyes actually caught you off guard.

"Okay I think you have earned it, just need you to say one more thing.” She nods, a little too quickly, rushing to catch any tears that were planning an escape route down the sides of her pretty face. You cradle her cheek, brushing your thumb against her skin, “Aw, baby, don't cry.” This time however, your tone is sincere.

She doesn't wait for your request, and starts all over again, this is getting old. “I promise everything. I'll make you feel so good, I'll give you whatever you want, please …you're too sweet.” She huffs, “Well, except when you're not.”

She continues mumbling, burying her face in the meat of your thigh, occasionally stopping to lovingly peck where she was laying, quiet smooching sounds. That really melted your heart, you were ready to give her what she needs after so much cruelty. This went on much longer than you had planned, but you were having fun with it. So you decided to abandon whatever you would ask of her. But could anyone blame you?

She slowly reaches for your wounded arm, gauging your reactions, like in the situation you were planning to do something to prevent her, but you come up with a better idea. “I'll do you one even better, Els.” The grin that envelops her face could light up a thousand suns, and melt the coldest of souls. Make vampire hunters quit their careers even, that's how adorable she could be, on the occasion.

You lean back to take your shirt off in one swift motion, and lay back on the edge of the bed, tilting your neck to give her access to the sweet pulsating spot, finding the droplet of drool that falls from her agape mouth utterly hilarious. “Go ahead, I've had my fun.” She hesitates. “But our agreement, I don't wanna hurt you.” “Ellie it's fine, unless you don't want t-” “No I do I do, oh thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you so muchhhh.”

Her gratitude is silly, she's straddling you and kissing all over your neck, face, and collarbones with such care, and you inhale sharply once you feel the familiar sensation of her teeth piercing your sensitive skin.

She has one hand on the nape of your neck, holding you close to her so you couldn't move away, and the other one finds your fingers to intertwine with hers, loud gulping noises filling the room as she messily laps up all that flows from you.

Her bony hips are sat atop your pelvis, and soon enough you feel her start absentmindedly rocking back and forth on you, your breath hitching. You hold her waist to ground yourself, and aid her. She's whispering, mostly to herself, “Fuck that's so fucking good, needed this so bad, need you, fuck- shit. Ah, yes.”

The vertiginous feeling swirls in your head and you feel yourself fading, your grip on her sides loosening, but you don't feel one single ounce of panic, because you know she's got you. No matter what, until the end of time. Or at the very least, until the final bells tolled and you were lowered to your eternal resting place six feet underground.

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[a-d-nox]

pac/pap: how can i present myself in the best way possible?

take what resonates leave what doesn't - nothing is 100% for you because these aren't personalized so please no angry comments or dms about what i am saying not being a good fit for you or that you "don't claim" just keep scrolling if that is the case. be kind, self reflect, and have fun.

last pac/pap: mid-year reflection - what have you accomplished and what should you be working on for the rest of the year?

masterlist of pap/pac posts

want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading options and prices!

pile one

don't be afraid to stand your ground and ruffle a few feathers. conflict is a part of life. its more important that you handle yourself accordingly than anything else. understand your triggers and learn how to put a mask on (remain composed and determined) when you really just want to snap. showcase strength. what's more important - you being right? you getting the last word? you being able to walk away from a hostile situation? continue to acknowledge and learn from the conflicts you have. learn resilience and wisdom in those moments. show others that you can be the bigger person and stand up for your ideas/self.

pile two

you definitely need to re-strategize how you are presenting yourself. y'all look like you are going through chaos and are constantly caught in a predicament. look for your new angle. no one is working against you but you. so this is your time to recollect yourself. be more honest with the world around you. by highlighting your honesty and ethics, others will gravitate towards you. own up to your imperfections and past mistakes - others will be mystified by your maturity. be clear and direct. be straightforward and tactful. others will come to appreciate your genuineness and reliability.

pile three

shake it out. you are tight and on edge right now and resisting all the things worth celebrating/indulging in. ask yourself why that is. be more present and learn to enjoy yourself a bit more - others will pick up on this change for the better. hell you will find new and improved opportunities coming your way too. show that you are resilient and can manage the hurdles that will come your way. nothing is perfect nor will it ever be 100% as planned. so might as well learn to shrug it off and just enjoy the process. others will be refreshed by your energy and appreciative of you in return.

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA # 36

X

Imagine dis…

No this is not the app-related prompt…

I had just introduced my youngest brother to the original Ben 10 and worked our way to the latest to show him what he was missing, so when I saw that episode…

It immediately went to Danny…

…

Danny was falling, a normal Wednesday for us readers but not normal for our resident ghost boy.

To cut the flashback short, he had just been pushed by Clockwork, to where you ask he didn’t know.

It had been a while since he had permanently entered the Realms to learn to become a king and an Ancient. An Ancient of what you ask, Space, he was a newly formed which made the other Ancients namely  Undergrowth, Frostbite, Vortex, and so on…

They were ecstatic as it had been a while since they met a new Ancient in the making, thus leading him to be pushed by CW to a space for him to not only practice his powers as an Ancient but also practice his newly formed title can help him heal his two packages. Namely, Ellie and Dan previously inhabited a clone body made by Vlad but due to its imperfections led to an early melting form. To gain a stronger body that can wind-stand their ever-growing powers, they both needed to grow into a body aka letting Danny incubate them like some sort of MPREG situation that he accidentally saw Dash’s notebook containing his fantasy writing about him and Phantom, it was a very dark day that was, it could use some work but the fact that he improved due to his sister’s tutoring, he doesn’t know what to feel.

Now he found himself in the middle of nothing with both cores in between inside himself. At first, he didn’t know what to do, the word space kept floating in his mind so stars? He asked himself, and so the first stars came forth. He was hesitant of course, usually whenever he had to use new powers usually under duress or even sometimes instinctively so now he had the time to explore his newfound powers he didn’t know where to start.

But slowly he let his instinct control his actions creating, with a flick of his writs galaxies formed, a single blink black holes were formed, a twitch here Pulsar were made, and so on… Each move and each breath made way to a new formation creating the former vast emptiness into a thriving space life with various life forms that have come first in the race of evolution. They first stayed within the confinements of their homes and in time they began reaching for the stars.

Throughout the years Danny also began to change, Danny, in his new form, is an ethereal being with enormous power. His skin is a deep, inky black that resembles the immensity of space, with constellations and galaxies quietly dancing across it. His eyes, unlike his former look, he has now customary pitch-black voids, gleaming a vivid, intense emerald that exudes alien intensity. These penetrating green eyes appear to reflect the force of the universe, continually moving and pulsing as if they hold the secrets of existence themselves. 

White accents run throughout his physique like celestial ribbons, following his limbs, torso, and face. These streaks shine like stardust, with a faint glow reminiscent of a faraway nebula. The highlights are flowing, almost as if they are shifting and moving like stars in the night sky, creating a captivating contrast against his body's deep black color. His silhouette, while humanoid, seems almost unreal—tall, imposing, and continuously emitting the faint hum of cosmic power.

Danny Phantom—now known as Alien X dubbed by the Green Lanterns who were lucky enough to witness him at the rare times he ever so twitched—floated serenely in space, his visage as unreadable as it had always been. The once-human ghost-boy had evolved into one of the universe's most powerful entities, capable of altering reality with a single thought.

During the thousands of millennia that he spent his time crafting and perfecting his new powers came with a very heavy headache. In all the time that he had spent filling the space, he had gathered enough energy for the two to create new bodies that could accommodate their growing powers, both Dan and Ellie kept on arguing inside his head about what they wanted to look like, like some sort of demented sims game. Always arguing which would look great on them, how this piece fits them better than the other.. and so on…

…

Did you ever have the instinctive feeling that something new is happening somewhere that you can't explain? Today was that day. The silent space around him was abruptly filled with the wailing of two babies. Danny had given birth, causing shockwaves throughout the universe. Alien X, as the Lanterns dubbed him, was not intended to change or reproduce. Yet here he was, cradling two small, glowing children in his arms, their bodies moving between colors and shapes, a clear indication of their limitless potential.

And the relief of Danny as the two finally settled on a form and agreed on something.

The Lantern Corps was the first to notice. The Guardians of the Universe had long feared Alien X's might, and now, with two offspring whose talents remained unknown, they were on high alert. Every Lantern, from the enraged Red Lanterns to the hope-filled Blue Lanterns, was summoned. The stakes were too high; the children had the potential to become the universe's greatest protectors or its most terrifying adversaries.

Hal Jordan headed the Green Lantern Corps, his emerald light shining through the blackness of space as he interacted with his fellow colored Lanterns as the Green Lanterns' primary representative.

Trouble had already arrived. Darkseid, the dictatorial ruler of Apokolips, and Trigon, the demonic conqueror of universes, have established an unusual alliance. Even beings of enormous strength found the promise of possessing the power to modify reality too appealing. They each coveted one of the offspring, knowing that having even one would give them an advantage over the entire cosmos.

The Lanterns fought bravely, their united lights creating a stunning display of force. Hal solicited every favor and ally he could get. Star Sapphire, Sinestro, and even Larfleeze, the ruthless Orange Lantern, heeded the summons. The battle was intense, with cosmic energy crackling across the starry sky. However, for each wave of adversaries, they vanquished, more appeared, drawn by the irresistible power and potential of the 2 new offspring of Alien X.

As the conflict continued, the Lanterns beheld something they had never seen before. Alien X moved. Danny, who had seemed unconcerned by the mayhem surrounding him, switched his attention to the fight. His normally expressionless face softened as he stared at his children, who were now cooing in his arms, unaware of the battle raging on top of his own hands.

Danny's palm began to glow, and to the surprise of all the Lanterns present, his fingers curled into a protective ball around the infants. The difference was slight yet profound. Alien X was operating independently, free of the never-ending internal argument that had before crippled him. His hands, capable of wiping out entire galaxies, were now a barrier, protecting his children from the evil that loomed over them.

Now, both enemies and heroes are trapped together within Alien X’s hands as they all watch in fascination as two beings are now being formed before their very eyes.

…

PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

[yunsbunnie]

fwb!jay who always wears his glasses around you because he knows how much you love watching your own reflection through the metal frame.

pairing : fwb!jay x fem!reader | warnings : finger sucking, smut, groping, riding | wc : 946 | note : might be my favourite one so far? there’s just something about jay w pretty glasses…

jay seemed to always find himself in the same situation, not that he was ever complaining. there was just something so captivating about the way your body reacted to yourself- the way your pleasure was almost dependent on the way you looked through another person's gaze.

that may be the very reason why he always comes running to you instead of the other girls you’ve heard about. if there was one thing that you’ve learned since you started hooking up with jay all those months ago was that your self confidence was what got him off- you just happened to feel the same way.

his lip was between his teeth as you continually bounced against his cock, your cunt sucking him in over and over again. it felt like you were made for him, his cock being the perfect size to hit all the right spots. 

jay pulled his hands away from you, arms bending at his elbows as he used one finger to push up his glasses. a smallc but inevitable, smirk caught on his lips as he watched your eyes follow the movement, noting the way your hands tensed by your side.

it wasn’t that Jay didn’t need his glasses, his eyesight actually being below average without them. But he tended to avoid wearing them, his irritation towards the lense stronger than his desire to actually see.

but when he was with you, they never seemed to leave his face. jay knew how much you loved his glasses, compliments always spilling from your lips as soon as you walked through the door. 

jay also happened to know the main reason behind your obsession. 

he noticed it after the first few times you made him keep them on, the way your eyes would remain glued to the metal frame. it was different than what he was used to, people always tending to be unable to look away from his glistening chest. 

but with you it was different, a difference that started jay's obsession with you.

he’d watch as you stared at yourself in the reflection, his dark eyes tracing your body as you moved sensually on top of him.

his head would fall back as he felt the way your hips sped up against him, the way your noises grew louder as your eyes locked onto the way you looked with your hands groping your own chest. 

“your glasses are really pretty.” You didn’t try hiding your ogling, your teeth gnawing on your body lip as your mind spiraled down a needy path of lust. you were unable to look away from your body, your curves highlighted by the bad lighting coming from jay’s desk.

you didn’t care too much about the way he looked, after all- he was nothing more than your accessory. he was there to make you look better, to feel better. 

“they’d be much prettier on you.” jay's voice came out barely above a whisper, the glasses sliding off his face as he inched his hands closer to you.

he gently took a hold of your chin, his other hand pushing his glasses onto your face. his hands moved to push your hair back as soon as they sat secure on the bridge of your nose. 

“i was right,” He leaned forward, his nose brushing yours as his thumbs smoothed down your hair, “so. fucking. beautiful.” his lips pressed kisses along your knuckles between every word.

his gaze moved from your confused one up to the spot yours was always drawn on. his reflection wasn’t as clear to his own eyes, his eyesight blurry with random rays of light due to his even worse astigmatism. 

but he now knew exactly why you loved it so much. he could see his entire body through the metal, his tensed stomach producing prominent shadows in a pleasant way. 

his eyes flickered to your darkening eyes once before he continued his kisses along your knuckles, the only difference was that his eyes were now attached to the way his lips looked whilst pressing against you. 

the smacks in his ear from the wet kisses made it all more real, he couldn’t stop. he then moved on to your fingertips, a delicate peck pressed against each one. 

he then did something that he’d only ever seen you do, he took your finger in his mouth. your jaw fell open at the unexpected action, your breath caught in your throat as his tongue swirled around your index finger. 

having been too focused on yourself you failed to notice the way he looked whilst getting pleasured, he truly was one of the most alluring people you’ve come across. 

you weren’t sure if the rapid beating of your heart was because of your sudden revelation- or because of the way he was making your core heat up. 

a wet sound, one that sounded eerily similar to the sound you make while sucking his cock, left his lips as he pulled back. the sound left a tingling feeling in his chest as he felt himself getting harder than before, his eyes meeting his own reflection once more before he pulled his glasses back on.

“will you let me make you feel good?” you didn’t need more than s glance at his rosy cheeks before you nodded your head, your back hitting the bed as you spread your legs for him.

even with him pushing your knees over his shoulder you still couldn’t shake the vision of him out of your head. and for the first time ever, you watched him instead of yourself- your finger pressed between your own lips as you mocked the motions his tongue made against you.  

[nasa]

For the Benefit of All: Assistive Tech Developed from NASA Tech

What do modern cochlear implants and robotic gloves have in common? They were derived from NASA technology. We’ve made it easier to find and use our patented inventions that could help create products that enhance life for people with disabilities.

October is National Disability Employment Awareness Month, which highlights the contributions of American workers with disabilities – many of whom use assistive technology on the job. Take a look at these assistive technologies that are NASA spinoffs.

Low-Vision Headsets

The Joint Optical Reflective Display (JORDY) device is a headset that uses NASA image processing and head-mounted display technology to enable people with low vision to read and write. JORDY enhances individuals’ remaining sight by magnifying objects up to 50 times and allowing them to change contrast, brightness, and display modes. JORDY's name was inspired by Geordi La Forge, a blind character from “Star Trek: The Next Generation” whose futuristic visor enabled him to see.

Cochlear Implants

Work that led to the modern cochlear implant was patented by a NASA engineer in the 1970s. Following three failed corrective surgeries, Adam Kissiah combined his NASA electronics know-how with research in the Kennedy Space Center technical library to build his own solution for people with severe-to-profound hearing loss who receive little or no benefit from hearing aids. Several companies now make the devices, which have been implanted in hundreds of thousands of people around the world.

Robotic Gloves

Ironhand, from Swedish company Bioservo Technologies, is the world’s first industrial-strength robotic glove for factory workers and others who perform repetitive manual tasks. It helps prevent stress injuries but has been especially warmly received by workers with preexisting hand injuries and conditions. The glove is based on a suite of patents for the technology developed by NASA and General Motors to build the hands of the Robonaut 2 humanoid robotic astronaut.

Smart Glasses

Neurofeedback technology NASA originally developed to improve pilots’ attention has been the basis for products aimed at helping people manage attention disorders without medication. The devices measure brainwave output to gauge attention levels according to the “engagement index” a NASA engineer created. Then, they show the results to users, helping them learn to voluntarily control their degree of concentration. One such device is a pair of smart glasses from Narbis, whose lenses darken as attention wanes.

Anti-Gravity Treadmills

A NASA scientist who developed ways to use air pressure to simulate gravity for astronauts exercising in space had the idea to apply the concept for the opposite effect on Earth. After licensing his technology, Alter-G Inc. developed its anti-gravity G-Trainer treadmill, which lets users offload some or all of their weight while exercising. The treadmills can help people recover from athletic or brain injuries, and they allow a safe exercise regimen for others with long-term conditions such as arthritis.

Wireless Muscle Sensors

Some of the most exciting assistive technologies to spin off may be yet to come. Delsys Inc. developed electromyographic technology to help NASA understand the effects of long-term weightlessness on astronauts’ muscles and movements. Electromyography detects and analyzes electrical signals emitted when motor nerves trigger movement. Among the company’s customers are physical therapists developing exercise routines to help patients recover from injuries. But some researchers are using the technology to attempt recoveries that once seemed impossible, such as helping paralyzed patients regain movement, letting laryngectomy patients speak, and outfitting amputees with artificial limbs that work like the real thing.  

To further enhance the lives of people with disabilities, NASA has identified a selection of patented technologies created for space missions that could spur the next generation of assistive technology here on Earth.

Want to learn more about assistive technologies already in action? Check out NASA Spinoff to find products and services that wouldn’t exist without space exploration.   

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[darielivalyen]

Eldritch Tales: Inheritance [WIP]

Eldritch Tales: Inheritance is a game that blends elements of psychological, supernatural, and cosmic horror with a good dose of drama, investigation, and romance. You and your high school friends are reunited after five years by a mysterious letter, and through this letter, you inherit an old Gothic manor and a substantial fortune.

There is only one condition: you must live in the manor together.

As you arrive at Blackthorn Manor, strange, unsettling events begin to unfold. Shadows move on their own, nights are unnaturally dark, and the atmosphere grows increasingly tense. The manor is full of secrets, and the more you learn, the less you seem to understand.

Play as male, female, or nonbinary.

Customize your appearance, personality, and sexuality.

Romance or befriend a wealthy and carefree playboy, a no-nonsense scientist, a disciplined and protective ex-soldier, or a sweet and free-spirited artist.

Manage your relationships, or face unforeseen consequences.

Pay attention to your sanity and health, or…don’t.

Search for clues, solve puzzles, and learn the truth behind your inheritance.

Discover hidden rooms, secret passages, and eldritch artifacts.

Confront moral dilemmas, and be careful as they may have far-reaching consequences.

Face randomized events that will keep each playthrough unique.

Experience multiple endings based on your choices and actions.

What darkness does Blackthorn Manor conceal, and how will it affect your fate? Can you uncover the truth and survive, or will the manor’s sinister influence consume you all?

TYLER REYNOLDS

Background: Born into wealth, Tyler has always enjoyed privilege and opulence. While his party-going ways have quieted recently, he still likes to boast about his family’s status.

Personality: Tyler has a confident, carefree spirit that can be both alluring and unnerving. He enjoys living in the now and isn’t too concerned with the future.

Physical description: Tyler is tall and lean with an athletic build. He has dirty blonde hair, hazel eyes, and a preppy yet sophisticated style. He is fond of loafers and owns over two hundred pairs.

Smell: Blend of citrus and sage.

CALEB MITCHELL

Background: A former soldier, Caleb has spent the last couple of years doing different security jobs. He’s very protective of his younger sister Julia, with whom he shares a close bond.

Personality: Caleb is disciplined and protective, with a dry sense of humor shaped by his military background. Despite his rugged exterior, he dreams of a peaceful life.

Physical description: Caleb is tall and muscular, and has an overall rugged appearance. He has a dark brown undercut, deep brown eyes, and a bit of stubble. His style is mostly casual.

Smell: Cedarwood with hints of amber.

JULIA MITCHELL

Background: Julia has a deep passion for science; she excels in engineering and physics. Her career and research define most of what her life is about.

Personality: Julia is a no-nonsense individual who values efficiency and clarity. She’s methodical in her approach to problems but can get puzzled in overly emotional moments.

Physical description: Julia is of medium height with a lean physique. She has neck-long black hair, deep brown eyes, and wears stylish glasses. Her style is Parisian chic.

Smell: Paper and ink, with hints of lavender.

LUNA HARPER

Background: An artist first and foremost, Luna’s whole world revolves around her paintbrush and palette. She embraces all forms and aspects of spirituality and loves crystals.

Personality: Luna is a free spirit, and her vibrant personality is reflected in her artwork. Her optimism is infectious, her humor innocent, and her soul seems to be untouched by cynicism.

Physical description: Luna is petite and has an ethereal presence. She has long platinum-blonde hair with pink highlights, green eyes, and loves the bohemian style.

Smell: Patchouli and sandalwood.

FORUM | DEMO | PATREON | PINTEREST | TUMBLR

[keepyourpantsongohan]

Meaningful Highlights from Kakashi Retsuden:

Minato catching Kakashi before he falls, the same way Kakashi always does for his students. And Kakashi, even at eight or nine years old, straight out of his father's funeral and before being his student, immediately relaxing when he runs into Minato: His feet tangled beneath him and he pitched forward. Into someone’s back. “You were really strong back there,” a voice told him, and he suddenly saw bright golden hair. He felt his breathing become a little easier. The Yellow Flash of Konoha. Namikaze Minato.

Kakashi describing his current feelings about his father: Now he felt proud from the bottom of his heart to have been born the child of the White Fang of Konoha.

Kakashi wanting to help the people of Redaku in a way that they can sustain themselves, even as he actually is providing a great deal of support through the process: The people of this country had to learn how to stand up and walk under their own strength. Give a starving person bread or teach them how to grow wheat. As Hokage, Kakashi had always chosen the latter.

Kakashi reflecting on his time as Sixth Hokage he eschewed tradition to build something that developed beyond shinobi: A never-ending peace. That was what Kakashi had sought as the Sixth Hokage. An orderly society that would go on and on even when he was not the Hokage, even when the day came when the role of Hokage disappeared. To create a framework so that they would never again fall into the quagmire of war.

The way Kakashi shows that he still views all of the former students taught by him and his friends in a parental and protective way: They had long since reached adulthood, and some were now parents while others were active on the front lines as shinobi. Even so, no matter how many years passed, to Kakashi, they were his precious students and the next generation who needed to be protected. Seeing them having so much fun was enough to ease his heart.

[herstoryheaven]

Descendants James Hook x Reader: Insecure Reflections

Request: Can you please do one where the reader is dating James and is Bridget's sister and he gets jealous when she starts to hang out with Morgie. So James thinks that she is cheating on him and goes to Bridget to ask her what is going on with her sister.

Reader: Female

Word count: 4484

Average reading time: 16 min 20 sec

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: None

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Disclaimer: All events portrayed in my stories are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. Any actions or behaviours portrayed by the characters may differ from reality and cannot be connected to any actual person. This work is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.

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Among the grand halls and ancient towers of Merlin Academy, students learn to master their powers, navigate alliances, and discover who they truly were. It was a world where friendships were forged, rivalries blossomed, and most importantly love found its way even in the most unexpected places.

Y/n, the younger princess of Hearts, was one such student. Her dorm room, tucked away in one of the quieter corners of the academy, was her sanctuary. It was a space filled with different shades of pink, white, and gold decor, a reflection of her royal lineage, yet softened by personal touches that made it uniquely hers. A small heart-shaped window overlooked the lush academy gardens, and her desk was littered with half-finished letters and books of spells.

It was in this room that she often found herself daydreaming about James Hook, the pirate who had stolen her heart. They had been together for nearly a year now, their romance the kind that others whispered about in the halls. Y/n couldn't help but smile at the thought of him, his teasing smirk, the way he always called her nicknames in that irresistible accent of his.

But as much as she loved him, she couldn't deny that their relationship had its challenges, like the time it took for her to get close to his friends. James, Uliana, Morgie, Maleficent and Hades were a tight-knit group, and it had taken some effort for Y/n to break through the guarded exteriors of his friends.

Now, things were different. She got closer to them and had found a close friend in Morgie, who shared her love of adventure and often teased her about how hopelessly in love she was with James. It was all in good fun, but Y/n couldn't help but notice the way James's eyes darkened every time Morgie made one of his jokes.

-----

It had been a long day of classes, and Y/n was sitting on her bed, flipping through her spellbook, while being lost in thought, reminiscing about the moments she had shared with James. Her mind drifted back to the time he had surprised her with a moonlit picnic by the sea, the gentle sound of waves crashing against the shore as he pulled her close, his hook resting lightly on her waist. She remembered how his deep, smooth voice had sent shivers down her spine as he whispered stories of his adventures, his eyes always fixed on hers with that intense gaze that made her feel like the only person in the world.

She smiled to herself, recalling the way his fingers had brushed against hers when he handed her a flower he had found, an almost bashful expression on his face as he confessed it reminded him of her, delicate yet strong. Those quiet moments, where the world seemed to fade away and it was just the two of them, had become the highlight of her days. Every touch, every stolen kiss had streghtend the bond between them, making her feel a warmth she had never known before.

Just as Y/n was about to lose herself in another memory of James, the soft knock at her door snapped her back to the present.

"Come in!" Y/n called, her voice light and carefree as she glanced up from her spellbook. She expected the familiar face of her sister Bridget, her boyfriend James, or maybe Ella, Bridget’s roommate and close friend. But when the door swung open, it was Morgie who stepped into the room, his mischievous grin already lighting up his face.

"Hey, Y/n," he greeted, his tone as casual as ever, though his eyes sparkled with his usual mischief. He walked into the room with the kind of confidence that only Morgie could pull off, plopping down on the armchair across from her. "Busy with daydreaming about your pirate prince?"

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, but despite her best efforts, she couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at her lips. Just the mention of James was enough to make her heart flutter. "Maybe... Anyways, what's up?"

Morgie stretched out, his long legs draped lazily over the armrest as if he owned the place. "Just thought I'd check in on you, see how the lovebirds are doing. You're practically glowing, you know."

Y/n felt her cheeks warm at his words, her mind immediately flooding with images of James, his intense gaze, the way his voice sent shivers down her spine, the gentle touch of his hand as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Am I?" she teased, though she couldn’t deny the truth in his observation. There was something about James that made her feel alive, more herself than she had ever been. And yet, the depth of her feelings for him made her shy, almost hesitant to speak them aloud, even to someone as familiar as Morgie.

Morgie grinned, clearly sensing her bashfulness. "Yeah, you are. And don’t even try to deny it. It’s written all over your face." He paused, his grin widening. "What about you? Trying to avoid Hades’s wrath after the prank you pulled last week?"

Morgie laughed, the sound echoing through the room like a melody. "Oh, come on, he deserved it! And besides, I think he's secretly proud of me. But we're not talking about me." he said, shifting the focus back to Y/n. "We're talking about you and James. He's got it bad for you, you know?"

Y/n’s blush deepened, her thoughts once again drifting to James, the way he looked at her like she was the most precious thing in his world, the way his voice softened whenever he spoke her name. "I guess you could say that." she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "We just… fit, you know?"

Morgie leaned forward, waggling his eyebrows in exaggerated amusement. "Fit like a hand in a hook, huh?"

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at him in mock annoyance. "You're impossible!"

The banter between them flowed easily, filling the room with lightheartedness, and for a moment, Y/n was able to push aside the shyness that always crept in when she thought about her feelings for James. But as they continued to talk, neither of them noticed the door slowly creaking open behind them.

James stood in the doorway, his tall figure framed by the dim light from the hallway. His dark eyes immediately took in the scene before him, Morgie sprawled comfortably in Y/n’s room, making her laugh, making her blush. A sharp pang of something unwelcome twisted in his chest. He knew she loved him, he could see it in the way her eyes softened whenever they were together, in the way her hand lingered in his, as if she never wanted to let go. But seeing Morgie with her, hearing her laugh at his teasing, brought a surge of jealousy he couldn’t quite suppress.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, or even Morgie for that matter. But Y/n meant everything to him, and the mere thought of anyone else making her smile the way he did unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.

-----

Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky turned a deep shade of indigo, James returned to his dorm room. The familiar space he shared with Morgie and Hades felt different tonight, smaller, more suffocating, as if the walls were closing in on him. Normally, their room was a place to rest, a place where they could be themselves, free from the expectations and judgments of the outside world. But tonight, every shadow seemed to loom larger, every creak of the floorboards seemed louder.

Morgie was already there, sprawled out on his bed, lazily flipping through a comic book. He looked up as James entered, immediately sensing the tension in his friend's posture. James’s usual confidence was absent, replaced by a tautness in his shoulders and a brooding intensity in his eyes that Morgie rarely saw.

"Hey, James. Everything alright?" Morgie asked, his tone casual, but his sharp eyes missing nothing. He knew James well enough to recognize when something was eating at him.

James didn’t answer right away. He tossed his leather jacket onto a chair, the movement almost aggressive, and sat on the edge of his bed, his back to Morgie. He ran a hand through his unruly hair, a habit that always betrayed his inner conflict. "Just thinking." he muttered, though his voice was tight, strained.

Morgie raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. He had seen James in all sorts of moods, angry, cocky, even vulnerable, but this was different. "About Y/n?" he guessed, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He couldn’t resist a little teasing, though he had a feeling this wasn’t the time for it.

James shot him a look over his shoulder, one that was sharp enough to cut. Morgie’s smirk faded, and he sat up a little straighter, realizing that whatever was bothering James wasn’t something to joke about.

"I saw you two together earlier." James said slowly, his voice measured, as if he was trying to keep it from breaking. "You seem awfully close."

Morgie blinked, taken aback. The implication behind James’s words hit him like a slap to the face. He had known James for a long time, long enough to understand that jealousy wasn’t something he succumbed to easily. But the way James was looking at him now, with a mix of hurt and suspicion, made Morgie’s stomach twist. "Whoa, wait a minute. You think… you think there's something going on between me and Y/n?"

James didn’t respond immediately, which only made the silence between them more oppressive. Morgie felt a surge of frustration, mingled with disbelief. He had grown to view Y/n as a sister, nothing more. The idea that James could think otherwise was almost insulting.

"James, seriously?" Morgie’s voice was laced with exasperation. "Y/n’s like a sister to me, you know that. Besides, she’s head over heels for you. Anyone with eyes can see that."

James wanted to believe him, truly he did. He knew Y/n cared about him, her eyes lit up whenever they were together, and her touch was always tender, filled with unspoken affection. But the image of Morgie making her laugh, of her blushing at something he said, gnawed at him, a dark cloud of doubt that he couldn’t shake. The thought of anyone else, even Morgie, bringing that look to her face, filled him with a possessiveness he didn’t know he was capable of.

Instead of responding, James simply stood up, his movements abrupt. He grabbed his jacket, the tension in his body clear, and without another word, stormed out of the dorm room. Morgie called after him, his voice tinged with concern, but James didn’t look back.

Before he knew it, James found himself standing in front of Bridget's dorm room, his hand hovering over the door. He was breathing heavily, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn’t sure what he was doing here, but something in him needed answers. Maybe Y/n’s sister might know what was going on, or at least help him make sense of the storm of emotions raging inside him.

He hesitated for a moment, questioning whether he should even be here, but the growing jealousy wouldn’t let him walk away. With a deep breath, he knocked on the door, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts of Y/n and what he might learn once the door opened.

After a moment, Bridget opened the door, her warm smile fading slightly as she saw the worry etched on his face.

“James.” she greeted, stepping aside to let him in. “Is everything alright?”

James hesitated before stepping inside, the room cozy and welcoming, much like its occupants. “I need to talk to you about Y/n.” he said, his voice tense.

Bridget motioned for him to sit down on one of the plush chairs near the window. She sat across from him, her expression filled with concern. “What’s on your mind?”

James ran a hand through his dark hair, struggling to find the right words. “It’s about Morgie. Y/n’s been spending a lot of time with him lately, and… I can’t help but feel like there might be something going on between them.”

Bridget raised an eyebrow, her expression shifting from concern to something more akin to amusement. “You think Y/n is interested in Morgie?”

James shrugged, his shoulders tense. “I don’t know. It’s just… they seem close, and I can’t shake the feeling that she might be slipping away from me.”

Bridget sighed, leaning back in her chair. “James, Y/n loves you. You know that, right?”

“I do.” James replied, his voice softening. “But what if… what if she’s realizing that Morgie is better for her? He’s fun, and they get along so well. What if I’m not enough?”

Bridget’s expression softened as she leaned forward, her tone gentle. “James, listen to me. Y/n has always been my little sister, and I know her better than anyone. She’s crazy about you. Morgie is just a friend, nothing more. They’re comfortable around each other because they’re friends, but that’s all there is to it.”

James nodded, though the worry still lingered in his eyes. “I want to believe that, Bridget. I really do. But it’s hard when I see them together, and it feels like they have this connection that maybe… I don’t.”

Bridget reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm. “James, the connection you have with Y/n is special. She chose you, and she chooses you every day. But you need to trust her. Don’t let your insecurities ruin something beautiful.”

James let out a long breath, the tension slowly leaving his body. Bridget’s words were reassuring, and deep down, he knew she was right. “You’re right. I’ve been a fool.”

Bridget smiled, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. “Just talk to her, James. She loves you, and she deserves to know how you’re feeling. And if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me.”

“Thank you, Bridget.” James said sincerely, standing up. “I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime.” Bridget replied with a warm smile. “Now go to her. I’m sure she’s wondering why you have not visited her today.”

James hesitated at the door, his hand still on the knob. There was a sense of relief in Bridget's words, but something inside him wasn't completely settled. He turned back to face her, an uncertain look in his eyes.

"Bridget." he began, his voice soft yet urgent, "what if... what if it's not just me? What if there's something I'm missing, something about the future that I don't know?"

Bridget regarded him for a moment, her expression unreadable. "Are you asking if you’re missing a sign or if fate has something else in store for you and Y/n?"

James nodded, struggling to articulate the swirl of emotions within him. "I just feel like I need to know for sure. I can't shake this feeling, and it’s eating me alive."

Bridget sighed and stood up, moving toward a small wooden box on her bookshelf. "You know." she said quietly, "there’s a way to see the future, or at least get a glimpse of it. But it's not something to be taken lightly."

James’s heart skipped a beat. He had heard rumors about Bridget's abilities, whispers in the corridors about her possessing something... otherworldly. "What do you mean?"

Bridget opened the box, revealing an antique hand mirror with an ornate, golden frame. The glass had a strange, ethereal quality to it, almost as if it were alive, reflecting not just the present but something more.

"This," Bridget said, holding the mirror delicately, "is a looking glass that shows possible futures. It’s not definitive, what you see is just one of many possibilities, shaped by your actions and choices. But it might give you some clarity."

James stared at the mirror, his curiosity battling with a sense of apprehension. "How does it work?"

Bridget smiled softly, sensing his hesitation. "You need to focus on the question you want answered. The mirror will show you a vision, but remember, it’s only a possibility, not a certainty."

James swallowed hard, his mind racing. Did he really want to see what the future held? What if the vision only made things worse?

But before he could second-guess himself, he found himself reaching for the mirror. Bridget handed it to him gently, her gaze serious. "Be careful, James. What you see might not be what you expect."

James nodded, his grip tightening around the handle of the mirror. He took a deep breath, staring into the glass, focusing on the question that had haunted him for days.

'Will Y/n leave me for Morgie?'

The mirror's surface began to shimmer, swirling with mist that gradually parted to reveal a scene. James watched as the fog cleared, revealing himself and Y/n standing by a lake. They were older, perhaps a few years from now. Y/n’s smile was as bright as ever, her hand intertwined with his. They were laughing, a carefree sound that made James's heart swell.

But then, the scene shifted. Morgie appeared, walking toward them with a grin on his face. Y/n’s smile didn’t fade, but James noticed something else, a hint of uncertainty in her eyes as she looked between him and Morgie. She said something to James, and though the vision was silent, he could see the sadness in her expression as she spoke. James’s heart sank as he saw himself pull away slightly, his own face clouded with doubt.

Then, the vision changed again. This time, it was a different future. Y/n was sitting alone by the same lake, her face lined with sorrow. James wasn’t there, nor was Morgie. She looked lost, as if searching for something, or someone who wasn’t coming back.

James’s breath caught in his throat. The mirror’s images continued to flicker between the two futures, one where they were together, happy but with underlying tension, and another where Y/n seemed to be mourning a loss, alone.

Finally, the mirror went dark, its surface stilling as if nothing had happened. James blinked, the weight of what he had seen crashing down on him.

Bridget gently took the mirror from his hands, placing it back in its box. "The future isn’t set in stone, James." she said softly. "What you saw… it could happen, but it doesn’t have to. The choices you make now, how you handle your fears and insecurities, they’ll shape what comes next."

James nodded numbly, the images still vivid in his mind. "So, if I don’t confront this, if I don’t trust her…"

Bridget’s eyes were filled with understanding. "You could lose her. Not because she wants to be with Morgie, but because your fears might drive a wedge between you. But if you talk to her, if you’re honest about how you feel… you can build a future together, one without regret."

James stood there for a moment, letting her words sink in. The future wasn’t fixed, he still had a chance to change it. With newfound confidence, he nodded and headed for the door.

"I need to talk to her." he said firmly, more to himself than to Bridget.

"Good." Bridget replied, her smile returning. "Remember James love is about trust, not just passion. Trust her, and she’ll trust you."

As James left Bridget’s room, he felt a sense of clarity. The path ahead was uncertain, but he knew what he needed to do. Tomorrow, he would speak to Y/n, not as the worried boyfriend, but as someone who trusted her completely, determined to build a future together, one that the looking glass hadn’t shown him yet.

-----

That same night, after everyone had gone to bed, James found himself wide awake, his thoughts a relentless swirl of emotions. The dorm room, usually so calming, felt stifling, too quiet, too full of the lingering echoes of his doubts. He couldn't bear it anymore, not when his heart was pulling him elsewhere. Before he knew it, he was out of bed, slipping into his clothes, and heading down the dimly lit corridors of Merlin Academy. His feet moved almost instinctively, guiding him to the one place where he knew he could find peace.

Y/n's dorm.

The moonlight filtered through the tall, arched windows as he walked, casting soft shadows on the stone floors. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a reminder of the uncertainty he had allowed to make its way in his head, but also of the clarity that had finally started to form. When he reached her door, he hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering just inches from the wood. He could turn back, wait until morning, but the thought of spending another moment in doubt was unbearable. Taking a deep breath, he knocked softly, his knuckles barely brushing the door.

It creaked open after a moment, revealing Y/n, her hair slightly tousled from sleep, eyes blinking in the low light. Concern immediately replaced the drowsiness in her gaze when she saw him standing there.

"James? What’s wrong?" she asked, her voice a gentle whisper in the stillness of the night. She stepped aside to let him in, her expression a mixture of worry and affection.

James entered, and as the door clicked shut behind him, the reality of the moment settled over him. He didn’t answer right away, instead reaching out to take her hands in his, pulling her close until her body was pressed against his, their heartbeats aligning. He could feel the warmth of her, the steady rhythm of her heart, and it grounded him, anchoring him to the moment.

"I’ve been an idiot, love." he murmured into her hair, his voice thick with emotion, a raw honesty that surprised even him.

Y/n frowned, her hands squeezing his as she pulled back slightly to look up into his eyes, searching for an explanation. "What do you mean?"

James sighed deeply, closing his eyes for a brief moment as if trying to gather the courage to speak. When he opened them again, there was a vulnerability in his gaze that he rarely allowed himself to show. "I let myself get jealous. Over you and Morgie." he confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I thought… I thought maybe there was something more between you two, something I couldn’t see."

Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise, but then, to his astonishment, she laughed softly. It was a gentle sound, filled with affection and a touch of amusement. She shook her head, her eyes twinkling in the moonlight. "Oh, James. There’s nothing between us. Morgie’s just a friend, more like a brother. You’re the one I love."

Hearing those words, hearing her say it with such certainty, made the tension that had been coiled tight inside him finally unravel. It was as if a great weight had been lifted off his chest, and he could breathe freely for the first time in what felt like days. "I know, darling." he whispered, his voice full of relief and remorse. "I know that now. I’m sorry I doubted you, even for a moment."

Y/n’s smile softened, and she reached up, her hand cradling his cheek, her thumb brushing against the rough stubble of his jaw. "It’s okay." she said, her voice a soothing balm to his troubled soul. "I’m glad you told me. I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t talk to me, James. We’re in this together, always."

Her words, simple yet sincere, struck a chord deep within him. They summarize everything he had ever wanted, someone who saw him, truly saw him, and loved him anyway. Without hesitation, he leaned down, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. It was not just a kiss of love but one of deep yearning and a declaration of their love. His lips roamed across hers with passion, trailing down to her neck, where he planted soft, possessive kisses that marked her as his.

Y/n’s breath hitched at the intensity of his touch, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink. She felt a shiver run down her spine as his hands traveled down her body, tracing her curves with a gentle but firm insistence. Her initial shyness melted into a warm, accepting glow. There was something undeniably thrilling about the way James’s kisses spoke of his desire and need for her, and she found herself responding with equal passion, her hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

As James’s kisses grew more fervent, Y/n’s heart raced, but she felt utterly cherished and adored. She melted against him, allowing him to mark her with his affection, her shyness giving way to a deep, encompassing love. Each kiss, each touch, was a way to prove his devotion and a promise of his unwavering commitment.

When they finally drew apart, their breaths mingling and their foreheads resting together, James’s arms remained securely wrapped around her, as if he were afraid that letting go might shatter the fragile peace they had found.

"You’re my most important treasure, Y/n." he whispered, his voice full of conviction, each word carrying the weight of his love. "And I’m never letting you go. Not for anything, not for anyone. You’re everything to me."

Y/n’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, not of sadness, but of overwhelming love. She cupped his face with both hands now, her touch warm and reassuring. "And you’re mine, James. Always."

They stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, the rest of the world fading into the background. It didn’t matter that they were in a place filled with magic and uncertainty, or that the future was still a vast, unknown place. All that mattered was the love they shared, a love that was strong enough to withstand anything life threw at them.

James knew with absolute certainty that he had found his forever home. The visions from the looking glass no longer haunted him. Instead, they served as a reminder of what he had to cherish, what he had to fight for. The future was theirs to create, and he was determined to make it a happy one, filled with laughter, love, and the kind of connection that couldn’t be broken by doubt or fear.

Finally, after a moment of shared silence, James took her hand and led her towards her bed. As they settled under the soft covers, the moonlight spilling gently through the window, they felt the promise of their future together in the quiet intimacy of the night.

As James held Y/n close, they drifted into a peaceful sleep, their hearts content and their souls at ease, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, hand in hand, heart to heart, forever and always.

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Copyright: All stories contained herein are the intellectual property of the author. Unauthorized copying, reproduction, or distribution of these stories, in whole or in part, without explicit written permission from the author, is strictly prohibited and may result in legal action. Respect the creator's rights and creativity. For permissions or inquiries, please contact: herstoryheaven@gmail.com.

Request Guidelines: When submitting a request, please ensure that your request does not contain any explicit sexual content or graphic depictions, and avoid any form of extreme violence or graphic descriptions of violent acts. I appreciate your understanding and cooperation in maintaining a respectful and inclusive environment for all readers. If you're unsure about your request or want to request about someone I haven't written about yet, feel free to ask me anytime.

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Requested by: @midalantics12

[mephisto-reporting]

More to Love: With Sylus

Summary: Sylus wants to spoil you rotten and takes you shopping. But things don't go as planned in the fitting room as your insecurities take over. pairing: Chubby! reader x Sylus Note: Sylus and reader are in an implied relationship. This is based on this request. Content warning: insecurities, self depriciation, body image issues, slightly suggestive towards the end, angst (hurt-comfort).

The boutique’s soft lighting bathed the room in warm, golden hues, casting a glow on the endless racks of designer clothes that stretched before you. Sylus had dragged you out here, his hand firm on your lower back as he guided you into the posh little shop without a word of protest allowed.

“Indulge me, kitten,” he’d said with that signature smirk of his, his silver hair catching the sunset through the boutique’s large windows. “Pick something you like. No limits.”

As if limits had ever existed when Sylus was involved. He was a man of excess, of extravagance, and he was determined to spoil you rotten—even if you argued you didn’t need it. But you relented, knowing there was no saying no to him when he had his mind set. As you browsed through the aisles, your fingers brushed over silken fabrics and embroidered hems, eyes catching on the occasional outfit you usually would pick for yourself, only not in a store like this. Maybe he just liked to see you in pretty things. Maybe he liked watching you fumble over making decisions. But no matter the reason, you couldn’t help but feel a slight warmth bloom in your chest as you picked up a few pieces that caught your eye. His attention was there, but only just.

And then you saw it.

A little black dress, understated yet elegant, with faint red accents that shimmered subtly in the light. It screamed Sylus in every way: sharp, refined, and impossible to ignore. Your chest tightened with a flicker of excitement as you imagined yourself in it, standing next to him in his usual immaculate attire. He’d look at you the way he always did, with that blend of teasing confidence and a softness he reserved only for you. You could picture how well you'd complement each other, the two of you so flawless together that you felt almost… untouchable.

Grabbing it from the rack, you added it to the pile of clothes you’d picked for yourself and headed to the dressing rooms. The velvet curtain whispered shut behind you, enclosing you in a quiet little space with a single mirror framed in warm lights. The changing room felt cold and sterile as you slipped into the dress, carefully pulling it over your body. It should have fit perfectly—after all, you’d picked it out. It was your choice. But as you zipped it up, a knot tightened in your stomach.

The fabric clung to your body in ways it shouldn't have, and not in a flattering manner. It sat all wrong on your bosom, the seams straining against the curves of your chest, barely able to close. You tugged at the zipper, trying to pull it up the side, but it caught painfully against your side, tugging uncomfortably at the soft roll near your bra strap.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, your reflection unfamiliar. The dress, which had seemed so perfect on the rack, now felt like a cruel joke. The skirt, meant to be a silhouette, flared out over your thighs in a way that felt mocking. It hung awkwardly around your thighs in a way that made your legs look thicker, not more elegant. Your belly, which you’d always been conscious of, seemed to bulge in ways that felt out of place, unnatural against the black silk. The faint shimmer of the red accents only seemed to draw attention to the areas you least wanted highlighted.

What is wrong with me?

The voice inside your head was loud now, relentless.

I don’t belong in this dress.

Your fingers clenched the fabric at your sides as a wave of self-consciousness washed over you. The dress wasn’t the problem—it was you.

The mirror seemed to mock you, reflecting back every feature you’d learned to hate over the years. Your belly, round and soft, pushed against the fabric. Your thighs looked larger than ever, the material refusing to lie smooth. Your arms, left bare by the sleeveless design, felt exposed and unwelcome in the polished setting of this boutique.

As you stared, echoes of the past began to surface, unbidden and cruel. Your face twisted into a frown as you turned from side to side. The more you looked at yourself, the more you hated it. The reflection staring back at you seemed foreign, as though it was someone else’s body you’d somehow ended up in.

"You’ve got such a pretty face; you’d be stunning if you lost a little weight,” your mother’s voice chimed in your head, the way it had so many times over the years. Well-meaning, she’d always called it. But the words had planted themselves deep in your heart.

"Are you sure you want seconds?” a friend’s teasing voice from a high school cafeteria, laughing as though it was just a joke. It hadn’t been funny then, and it wasn’t funny now.

"I’m just saying, you’d feel so much better if you exercised more," someone had told you once, their tone dripping with condescension disguised as care.

Your friends in high school, laughing when you couldn’t fit into the trendy outfits they wore, saying, “Oh, don’t worry, you’ve got such a cute face!”

The offhand comment from a coworker last year: “Have you tried keto? I heard it’s great for people like you.”

Your father, well-meaning but always critical, pinching your belly and saying, “You’d be so much prettier if you lost all this fat.”

The memories compounded until your chest tightened with a mix of anger and shame.

God, I look disgusting in this.

And now, in this too-small dressing room with this too-tight dress, those voices joined your own as you whispered to yourself.

"I look ridiculous. Why did I even think I could pull this off? Sylus wouldn’t want to be seen with someone like this. Someone like me."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you forced them back. Crying here would be too much, too embarrassing. You turned away from the mirror, pulling at the dress, wanting nothing more than to get it off. Your breathing hitched as the panic rose, your nails biting into your palms to keep yourself steady. But the tears were already threatening to fall.

The curtain separating you from the world felt as thin as paper and just as fragile. The muffled murmur of boutique shoppers and the faint hum of music didn’t penetrate the storm of thoughts swirling in your head. The dress felt tighter by the second, suffocating, and your own reflection stared back with an almost accusatory glare.

Why did you even think you could look good in this? You were out of place, weren’t you? Not just in the dress, but here—here in this boutique, in Sylus’s world, in his life. The idea of walking out of the changing room, of standing in front of him and seeing that ever-present smirk falter for even a second, was unbearable.

Your fingers fumbled at the zipper, trying to undo it, but your hands were shaking too much to find the tab. The fabric bunched awkwardly around your side, pinching and pulling in a way that only made you hate it more. Hate yourself more. A sharp inhale turned into a shaky exhale as your vision blurred with unshed tears.

He’s going to see right through you. He’ll realize you’re not the kind of person who belongs at his side.

The voices in your head grew louder, and you didn’t even hear his approach until his voice broke through the storm, smooth and teasing, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Kitten,” Sylus drawled, his tone dripping with amusement, “don’t tell me you’ve gotten lost in there. Or are you planning to make me wait all day?”

Your breath caught. “I’m fine. I just… need another minute,” you called out, trying to keep your voice steady, but it cracked ever so slightly. You winced, praying he hadn’t noticed.

But he had. Of course, he had.

“Hmm,” came his thoughtful hum, followed by the sound of his boots against the boutique’s plush carpet. Closer. Too close. “You don’t sound fine, sweetie. Should I come in and—”

“No!” The word came out sharper than you intended, panic rising in your chest. “Just—stay out there. I’ll be out in a second.”

There was a pause. Long enough for you to realize he wasn’t moving away. His teasing edge was gone when he spoke again, quieter this time. “Sweetie. What’s wrong?”

“I said I’m fine!” you snapped, your voice a pitch higher than you intended. You winced at your own tone. The last thing you wanted was for him to push further.

But Sylus was nothing if not persistent. “Sweetie, you’re never fine when you say you are,” he said, the teasing edge returning, but softer now, as though he was testing the waters. “I’m coming in.”

“No, don’t—” Your protest was cut short as the velvet curtain slid to the side.

The curtain shifted slightly, and you turned away from it, clutching the fabric of the dress like a shield.  Sylus stepped into the small dressing room, his broad frame somehow making the space feel even smaller. His usual air of control and confidence filled the room, his sharp crimson eyes immediately locking onto yours. But his smirk faltered as he took you in—your tear-streaked face, your trembling hands, and the ill-fitting dress that clung awkwardly to your frame.

“Sweetie…” His voice was low, laced with genuine concern as he stepped closer. “What’s going on?”

You turned away, hugging yourself tightly. “Nothing. Just go, Sylus. Please.”

He didn’t move. Instead, he reached out, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. “Look at me,” he said, his tone soft but commanding.

“I don’t want you to see me like this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“And why not?” he asked, his brows furrowing. “You’re my kitten, aren’t you?"

You turned away, hugging yourself tightly. “Nothing. Just go, Sylus. Please..I don’t want you to see me like this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Like what?” he asked, stepping closer, his hands reaching out but not quite touching you yet. “What are you talking about?”

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. “Like you’re trying to fix something that’s broken. I’m not—I’m not—” The words caught in your throat, but they spilled out anyway, raw and jagged. “I’m not good enough for this. For you. For any of it.”

His frustration was evident in the way his jaw tightened, but when he spoke, his tone was calm. “Where is this coming from?”

You gestured helplessly at your reflection. “Look at me! This dress—it doesn’t fit. It doesn’t look right. I don’t look right, Sylus. I thought I could—” Your voice broke. “I thought I could make myself… better. For you. But I just… don’t fit.”

The air grew heavy with your words, and for a moment, Sylus didn’t respond. Then, slowly, he stepped forward, his hands firm but gentle as they gripped your wrists, lowering them from where they clutched the dress. His touch was grounding, solid.

“Stop,” he said, his voice soft but commanding. “Stop tearing yourself apart like this.”

You blinked up at him, tears slipping free despite your efforts. “But it’s true. I don’t fit in your world. I don’t even fit in this stupid dress.”

His hand slid down your arm, his fingers curling around yours to still their trembling. “Stop,” he repeated, his voice firm but not unkind.

“No, I need to say it,” you continued, the dam breaking as tears spilled down your cheeks. “You’re this—this untouchable, powerful, perfect man, and I’m just—” You gestured helplessly at yourself, the words catching in your throat. “I’m not good enough for you, Sylus. I’ll never be good enough.”

He was silent for a moment, his jaw tightening as he studied you. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something far more serious. “That’s enough of that.”

You blinked at him, startled by the sudden shift in his tone.

“You think I care about any of that?” he said, his eyes boring into yours “Sweetie,” he murmured, his tone laced with exasperation and something deeper—something tender. “You don’t need to fit into anything to be enough for me.”

His fingers brushed your cheek, wiping away a tear. “You think I give a damn about some dress? About whatever bullshit standard you think you’re failing to meet?” His crimson eyes burned with intensity as he spoke, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. “You don’t need to impress me. You already have me wrapped around your finger.”

Your breath hitched, his words sinking in even as you tried to resist them. “But I—”

“No,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “No more of that. Do you know what I see when I look at you?” His hands slid to your shoulders, his grip firm but warm. “I see the person who challenges me, who stands toe-to-toe with me even when she’s scared. The person who’s made my cold, miserable world worth living in.” His lips quirked into a faint smile. “And, if you must know, I happen to think you’re absolutely stunning. Always.”

“But I—” you began, but he cut you off with a shake of his head.

“No buts,” he said firmly. “You don’t need to dress up to impress me. I’m already smitten, in every way possible.”

His words hung in the air, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Slowly, the tightness in your chest began to ease, the storm in your mind quieting as his presence anchored you. He reached for the zipper, his movements careful and deliberate as he began to undo the dress.

“Let’s get you out of this,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “We’ll find something that makes you feel like the goddess you are. And if we don’t, then to hell with the clothes.” Sylus’s hands lingered at the zipper, his eyes meeting yours with a teasing glint as the faintest smirk tugged at his lips. “Though, between you and me, kitten…” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, “I think you’d look better without anything on at all.” His fingers brushed deliberately against your skin as he slid the zipper down further, his touch light but intentional, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

Your cheeks burned, the heat rushing to your face at his boldness. “Sylus…” you began, but the words caught in your throat, swallowed by the intensity of his gaze.

He leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he spoke again, his tone a mixture of playful and reverent. “But let me make one thing very clear, sweetie. Clothes or no clothes, none of that matters to me. You’re already perfect to me—just as you are. Nothing you wear or don’t wear is going to change that.”

His hands rested firmly on your hips now, steadying you as the trembling in your legs began to subside. “And by the time I’m done worshiping you, adoring you, loving you over and over again,” he continued, his voice husky, filled with an almost dangerous promise, “you’ll see yourself the way I see you. The way I’ve always seen you. Stunning, irresistible, absolutely mine.”

You shivered, not from the chill of the room, but from the weight of his words and the warmth in his touch. He tilted your chin up with one finger, forcing your eyes to meet his. “You’ll see it, sweetie. I’ll make sure of it. Because in my eyes, you’re more than enough—you’re everything.”

The air between you was thick with unspoken emotion, the tension melting into something softer, something unyieldingly honest. His lips brushed your forehead, lingering there for a moment before he pulled back, his hands never leaving your sides. “I’ll remind you every single day, sweetie. Over and over again, until there’s no room in your mind for anything but how much I adore you. Do you understand?”

You nodded, tears prickling at your eyes again—but this time, they weren’t born of pain or self-doubt. They were tears of relief, of something lighter and more hopeful.

“I’ll believe it,” you whispered, your voice trembling but earnest. “I’ll try.”

Sylus’s smirk softened into a smile, his thumb brushing away the tear that escaped down your cheek. “That’s all I ask. But just so you know…” His voice turned playful again, his lips quirking up at the corners. “I’m not above a little convincing, sweetie. And believe me, I’m very persuasive.”

“So,” he said, his smirk returning, though softer now, “what do you say we ditch this boutique? I’m thinking we’ve got better things to do than fuss over dresses that don’t deserve you anyway.” His thumb stroked gently over your hip, his touch grounding and sure.

The storm within you calmed as he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if shielding you from the weight of your insecurities. For the first time in what felt like forever, you believed that maybe—just maybe, you could accept yourself just the way you are, just the way he did.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

[rollinouttahere-writes]

I SAW YOUR POST AND I ALSO LIKE PAULIE SM!! HE'S JUST SO CUTE <3 With that, I rlly hope u write a one shot of how he would react with a s/o whose love language is physical touch. Hope u have a nice day and I rlly rlly am a big fan of your writings, you're so amazing 🥹💗

Touchy

Paulie x GN!Reader

1k words

Dating someone like Paulie was an interesting experience. He was far from the most conventional boyfriend you’ve ever had, but that helped to endear him to you. It was funny how flustered he would get over the littlest things. Wrapping your arms around him would turn him bright red. Kissing his cheek would have him flailing and acting like you just accosted him, only to gently trace his fingers over where you kissed him once he thought you weren’t looking.

Simply put: he’s adorable.

There was a slightly less cute quirk of his. It leaned more into being funny. His ongoing evasion of debt collectors was more than a little amusing. It could get annoying when he abruptly ducked out in the middle of a date because he got spotted, but you’ve learned to roll with it. Watching him jump through hoops and hide in odd places never failed to make you chuckle, so you found it easy to forgive the transgressions. 

Tonight, though, it did scare the hell out of you. It was late, and you were just about to head to bed when you heard the window in your kitchen get opened and saw someone coming through it. You damn near cracked Paulie over the head with a frying pan before you realized that the person crawling through your window like a raccoon was actually your boyfriend and not a robber. He’s lucky you recognized the way that light reflected off his goggles. 

Unsurprisingly, his reasoning for doing this was because he was on the run again and hoped to lose the loan sharks by hiding out in your home until they either passed or gave up for the night. You were happy with this, despite the late hours. It wasn’t often that you could get Paulie to overlook the intense scandal of it all to visit your home in the late night hours like this. You would have fun teasing him about this later.

For now, though, you contented yourself with cuddling up to him on the couch with your legs thrown over his lap. Your arm was propped up on the armrest, with your chin resting on your fist. Your other hand busied itself by playing with the hair on the nape of Paulie’s neck.

Paulie had one of his arms resting on the back of the couch, and his other hand rubbed up and down your thigh absentmindedly while complaining about his debt as if he hadn’t been the one to take out those loans and is the true victim in this situation. “I keep telling them I’ll pay it back when I have the money! I don’t get why they can’t just wait.” Paulie huffed, exhaling the smoke from his cigar.

“How long have you kept them waiting now?”

“That’s irrelevant!” Paulie’s face tinted red and he shot you a glare that was dripping with embarrassment.

The glare does nothing to intimidate you. You chuckle and start gently scratching at his scalp, making him shiver under your touch. He groans and makes a half-hearted attempt to swat your hand away. He grumbles under his breath, “Quit trying to seduce me.”

That made you laugh. “Trying? Given that you’re my boyfriend, I think I’ve already succeeded in doing that.” 

His hand moved from the back of the couch to clamp over your mouth. Much to your amusement, his ears were tinged red. “You know what I meant!” Smoke puffed out of his mouth as he huffed. You smirked against his hand, and his eyes narrowed at you, wondering what you were up to.

Covering his hand with your own, you gently kiss the palm of his hand while maintaining direct eye contact with him. His entire face and neck turned ruby-red and he wrenched his hand away like you just bit him. He sputtered for a moment before shouting in a humorously high-pitched voice, “You harlot!”

You cackled at his embarrassment. Making him flustered was the highlight of this relationship for you. The hand you were previously using to play with his hair moves and pinches his cheek affectionately, “Calm down, baby. I’m just teasing you.”

“I know! That’s the point! You’re always teasing and trying to tempt me like a siren!” His voice was loud, but lacked any real weight behind it. Paulie was the definition of all bark, no bite. For you, at least.

Another smirk spread across your face. You lean forward, “You can’t mind it that much, sweetheart.”

Paulie grumbled and averted his eyes, “Of course I mind. Why else would I be telling you off?”

“Are you sure? Because the fact that your hand is still stroking my thigh is sending me mixed signals.”

He stiffened and looked down. His grip on your thigh tightened, but he distinctly didn’t let go. Paulie drummed his fingers on your thigh and ground his teeth as he floundered to save face, “It’s not my fault you’re walking around looking like this. You put your legs in my lap. What else am I supposed to do? Especially when you’re wearing such tiny shorts. They aren’t covering a damn thing.”

You cocked your head to the side, feeling confused as to what he’s talking about. “Shorts?”

It was now Paulie’s turn to look confused. “Yeah, shorts. You’re definitely not wearing pants right now.”

“I was just about to go to bed when you came in. This is all I wear to sleep.” Grabbing the hem of your oversized sleep shirt- that you stole from Paulie- you lift it up, revealing that you’re just wearing underwear underneath. 

The cigar in Paulie’s mouth falls onto the couch as he stares at you slack-jawed. Before you can so much as blink, he’s yanking your shirt back down while shrieking like a scandalized grandmother, “Harlot!”

Again, you laughed at his distress. You loved every second of his extreme reactions. It’s not as if he actually disliked any of this. Afterall, he hasn’t thrown you off his lap yet. Or let go of your thigh, either. He wasn’t fooling anybody, much less you. He loved this just as much as you did, he just hasn’t figured out how to say it out loud yet.

[thatfrailsoul]

(Pictures that are used here are from Pinterest - check the link at the end of the reading to find and download them from their original creator ♡)

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Slow down for a moment. Allow your heart to guide you, to tell you if there is really a message here for you and in which pile it hides... And whatever the answer is, feel free to listen to it or to let go. Remembering that whenever you will be ready or will have the need, your true message will find its way to you.♡

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When they see you, when they look at you... They see the strength of someone who keeps trying, even when every part of them is so tired and consumed. They see the eyes of someone who got through it all, but that still tries to calm down that resentful voice that can't but highlight the worst now in this world... They see someone that tries its best to remain the same gentle and loving soul. While feeling the shift in each part of you that tries to face it all, by becoming rigid and unfazed by all the challenges that you are forced to endure. They see someone who is worthy of that love, affection, and serenity that slowly but finally is flowing in your life again...But they see also someone that can't win completely against their hurt and tortured heart that keeps seeing the danger in disguise in every moment... And they truly would like to help that precious and poor soul of yours. Help you to remember that there is more, that there isn't only darkness, loneliness and cold. And that you deserve a chance to live and feel it. You deserve much much more.

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They see in you the version of them that they already lost. The reflection of what they once so ardently desired to be, to appear in this world. That strength and courage in learning, from others, from your own self, in seeing not only the hurt and bad in this world, but also all the other beautiful things that can grow from those. Transforming a wound, remains of a destroyed love or dream, in a new beginning, in gained knowledge, in the strength to live for more. They look at you and they are mesmerized, overwhelmed with admiration for you but also regret and judgment for themselves. For the moment they stopped to look around for more convinced that everything that there is - is not worthy anymore. It might not look like it... But every moment with you, every word you speak... It's gentle but still a hard to swallow pill for them about how there was indeed a different way of coming out of all those challenges and nightmares. That there was, there is, still something to live and fight for.

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Pictures used in the reading ♡

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