#once you finish the novel.... loud screaming

[tuesdaytangerine]

im grabbing and shaking you orv is making me so unwell and im barely halfway through it

meow :3

[hunnylagoon]

Take Me to War

PT1 Friendly Fire

Streamer! Ellie Williams x reader

A writer, I think is someone who pays attention to the world. We are observers, it is in our nature to be off-putting and turn shallow things deep.

Premise: Your neighbour is becoming increasingly loud and you decide to do something about it.

PT 2 Here!

Two things I hate the most?

My neighbour and New York City.

They shared something in common, they never rest. I liked my quiet life in my small town until I was convinced that all of the greatest writers lived in the city, what a joke. I sold my virtue to move to New York and now my body burned with the shame of not belonging.

I worked as a journalist and in advertisement but it didn't fill the gaping mass that consumed me, I felt like a sellout so I quit to do freelance, and now I feel like even more of a sellout. Freelance is making me think that I hate ghostwriting more than I hate my neighbour and New York City.

It's like you do all of the work and get zero reward but I'm desperate to pay the bills and all that stuff I've been telling myself all my life 'I may never be a rich man but the rich man will never have me' well, the rich man most certainly had me. I was paid an almost criminal amount of money to pour my soul into art just for it to get stamped beneath a new name and make a gross income six times the size of what I sold it for.

I look for happiness everywhere but I do not find it. I search for it in things everyone seems to pry joy from; I go clubbing, walk in Central Park, and date around, but happiness doesn't seem to exist there for me.

I plead for it in my morning cups of tea with a spoonful of honey, the sunshine glittering in a puddle after a rainstorm, for a brief moment, it flickers in the light of my cinnamon-scented candle. The truth is I am almost comforted by my sadness and it is in my lowest moments that my creations are the most beautiful, it is like I am dead and I despise those who aren't for I enjoy the company of my silence more than anyone I have ever met.

It was my dream for my name to be above 'New York Times Best Selling Author' but instead, it is just my work beneath it and maybe that's why I'm so bitter.

Right now as I am trying to salvage the bits and pieces I was given by a washed-up pop star for her memoir my neighbour is screaming and laughing incoherently in their apartment, it makes me miss living in an actual house.

The noise usually started up when I would finish up my writing and get ready for bed, then it would go all the way through the night. The dumb fucker probably threw parties every single night; my roommate never faced an issue with this as she worked at a club and was usually working when the deafening noises would begin.

I on the other hand who lived in that apartment and worked from that apartment was always cursed to listen to the random thumps and spats of laughter that sounded all through the night. At least once a night when I'm sound asleep, I hear a bang against the wall and each time without fail, I'm brought awake with my heart thumping.

Trust me, I have retaliated.

On occasion when I'm sleep-deprived and at my absolute limit I'll bang on the walls, that only stops the noise for a minute. I've even complained to my landlord and that one week was heaven until it eased back to the clamour that I've almost grown used to.

Almost.

I still hate it.

I'm broken from my thoughts when my phone rings, it vibrates till it's almost at the edge of my desk and I feel for it; don't worry buddy, I wanna jump too. I read the caller ID and I almost wanted to gag, it was a woman from the publishing company who reached out to me and asked me to write Nicole Elliot's novel. Despite wanting to throw my phone against the wall to stop Noemi's constant checkups and get back at my neighbour while I'm at it, I answer the phone "Hey, Noemi!" I glance out the window where the winter sun has long set, leaving nothing but billboards, street lamps and neon signs to light up the New York night. Under the unforgiving lights I can barely make out the gentle snowfall.

"Hey," She draws it out and I can hear in her voice that she is smiling "I know it's a little late, just checking in, how is the draft coming along?" A loud thump sounds against my wall along with intolerant cackling "What's that?"

"Just some street noise," I dismiss "Anyways, the draft is coming along great, I'm a couple thousand words away from finishing it. I will of course send it to you and I would really love it if you could reach out to Nicole and ask for her opinion on it before I carry on with the final copy," I give a middle finger to my wall, even if my neighbour can't see me, it makes me feel a little bit more formidable "I did follow her outline, which was difficult but I think I salvaged it pretty well."

This time there is a yelp from my neighbour and what sounds like someone slamming their hands down onto a table, Noemi thankfully ignores it "You haven't been in touch with Nicole?"

My eyebrows furrow "She hasn't responded to any of my emails and she's been turning down all of our scheduled Zoom calls, so no, I have not been in touch with her."

"Weird," Noemi comments and there is a brief break of silence between us "She's been M.I.A on our end too," I could hear her scribble something down. "So can you get the draft to me by Friday?"

Two days? If I lock myself inside and don't see the sun then I totally can "Absolutely!" I do work better under a deadline.

"Great," She sounds almost relieved "We will hunt down Nicole, it would be nice to get her greenlight with this but whether or not she approves it, she has already signed off and it will be going to print."

"Okay," I fight the urge to respond with 'sick' or 'aight' because I'm an adult now and someone who is masquerading as a professional.

"Sorry, what was that you mentioned about an outline?" Noemi asks, she sounds more confused with each word "I wasn't aware Nicole made any-

She is swiftly cut off by a crash from the other side of my wall, when I say crash I mean it. It sounded like someone just bodied their car into drywall. My eyes went wide as I saw a crack splitting up my once pristine white wall. I hold my phone against my collarbone as I get up and pound my fist against the wall, giving it a kick for extra measure.

"Is everything alright?"

"Certainly," The nice thing about phone calls is that the person on the other end can't see your awkward habits or subtle outbursts (Or neighbours breaking through your shared wall). After I hit the wall, everything went silent for just a second before laughter sounded heavily from multiple people. "Noemi, thank you for sourcing me out to write this, I am really grateful for this opportunity I will send you that draft on Friday." I try to wrap up the call but she speaks up.

"Well, I've read your work and I was very impressed, I trust you will do well with this. Sorry to have called you so late-

"Thanks, have a nice night now!" I'm talking faster than I can even think, the only thing in my head is the fact that my neighbour is slowly deteriorating my wall.

"Wait-

Before Noemi can finish her sentence, I've hung up the phone. I'm leaning back in my cushy office chair, hands gripping my hair as I stare down the newly formed crack in the wall. I don't entirely like to be confrontational, even in school I hated drama, but I was beginning to think it was necessary.

I saved the progress I had made on the memoir and pushed myself up from my desk. I was clad in nothing more than a t-shirt and some plaid pants, it was my writing attire and in the moment I didn't care much to make a good first impression. It was fucking freezing the second I got up from my desk.

The moulding on my bedroom window was broken which allowed the frigid New York air to slip into my room and make me shiver with each breath. At my desk, I would usually have a throw blanket to shroud my freezing body but the moment I discarded it, I felt regret. I almost wanted to wrap myself in it to confront my neighbour but the pyjamas alone didn't help me look tough.

I did however shove my feet into some cow slippers and march right up to their apartment.

Apartment 2D stood in front of me, the pastel blue door making me angrier with every second that I looked at it. I rapped my knuckles on the wood and crossed my arms to stop me from shuddering.

My nerves built up as I slowly heard a door within the apartment shut followed by footsteps leading to the door. I would just ask them politely to quiet down and calmly work on a way to fix the shared wall that they are slowly ruining.

The door opens and staring me down is a woman. I had expected it to be a man to be truthful. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, the colour teetered on the verge of auburn and brown. The woman is clad in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, it's almost parallel to my outfit.

"You need to be quiet," I say the first words that come to mind "And stop assaulting my fucking wall."

She sucks a sharp breath through her teeth "Are you apartment 3D?" She asks to which I nod "I knew you would be stopping by soon." She has this sheepish and almost sardonic smile on her face and despite the amusement she's portraying I can see sadness brewing in her green eyes like a storm.

"I don't know what you're doing in there where you are up all night, I don't even have a clue how you sleep and work with all this time to spare to be a nuisance." I say and then swiftly feel the urge to backtrack "I'm sorry, that was a little rude, but mate, I can't sleep or work when you're being loud doing whatever you do."

"Fuck," She mutters looking back into her apartment and then at me "I'm sorry, I'll keep it down."

"What about the wall?"

Her eyes look me up and down, settling on my cow slippers "I'll find someone to fix the wall."

I press my lips tight together, looking dead into her eyes, scraping my brain for something else to say. It was almost like I wanted to fight. I had expected this to be a full-out conversation that ended in yelling but god she was pretty and she was telling me just what I wanted. "Okay."

"Okay?"

I regard her once more with what I assume is a cold glare before ushering back into my apartment and slamming the door behind me, the whole time, my neighbour watches me from her doorway.

That was the first night of uninterrupted sleep I'd had in a month.

-

I woke up earlier than I would've liked when my roommate Margot came home from work at 4:56 on the dot. She made sure to slam every single door and cupboard before throwing herself onto her bed in all of her makeup and musty clothes that had to endure whatever happens at a nightclub between the hours of 8 pm and 4 am, which I can't imagine is very clean.

Still, even though I was a little ahead of schedule I fell into my morning routine. It started with ignoring my phone, this was followed by a mug of Bengal spice tea with a teaspoon of honey and a splash of cream.

Sometimes I would curl up on the couch, though it snowed last night and I loved fresh snow. Freshly fallen snow absorbed sound, it was like soundproofing for the earth. There wasn't anything like the rare peace you could find in New York. I figured I would have my morning tea on the fire escape.

My peaceful image was destroyed the second I pried my window open and crawled through I was hit with the intense smell of pot. "Shit," I mutter, instinctively wafting the scent away from my nose.

"Sorry, man," I see my neighbour leaning against the railing of the fire escape, nursing a joint. It hadn't crossed my mind that I shared a level of the fire escape with her, I had never seen her out here but now the smell of weed that drifted through the damaged moulding on my window made sense, I had always assumed it to be Margot.

"Joint for breakfast?" I ask, half-joking. A dusting of powdery snow adorns each step and railing, creating a delicate layer of white that contrasts with the industrial gray of the metal though it looks like my neighbour has pushed all of the snow off the platform.

"Nah, for dinner I guess, it helps me sleep," She's in the same outfit from last night, except her hair is now loose around her face and she threw a hoodie over her tanktop.

I furrow my eyebrows "You've been up all night?" The slight tension from the previous night has dissolved completely.

"Yeah," She says it like it was a stupid question and it partially was but I hadn't stayed up that late since New Year only because I was the designated driver and was in charge of getting everyone home safe. "I don't sleep much, that's probably why I keep you up all night."

I mean, I'd let her keep me up in other ways "Honestly, I've gotten used to it, it's almost like white noise." I try to sympathize even if it isn’t necessarily true.

"Next time I'm loud, you have every right to bang on my door and chew me out." She takes a drag from her joint and I watch as the smoke escapes her lips, her cheeks tinted pink from the cold.

"Good to know," I glance behind her at the open window and all I see are purple LED lights cutting through the darkness of her apartment. "Now I know that we share a fire escape I'll just crawl through your window and yell at you that way," I joke, taking a sip from my snoopy mug.

This makes her laugh in the slightest, she crushes what remains of her joint on the cold railing and tosses the bud into the pot of a dead plant that's covered in snow and has lived on this fire escape long before I moved in; one time I just about removed it but I felt bad, it's like I was evicting it from its rightful home "Feel free."

"Am I allowed to ask why you're up all night breaking the sound barriers?" I ask, pulling my fuzzy robe tighter around my body to fight the bitter air. "Are you the leader of a cult? Would it be better for the world in the long run if I push you right now?"

The corners of her lips curl up into a smile once again "You've figured me out, just know I've got some big plans with Koolaid," She plays into my teasing.

"It was flavour-aid, actually." I don't know why I said that.

"What the fuck is flavour-aid?"

"Koolaid basically," Silence stretches between us "So what do you actually do all night?"

"It's a bit complicated," She says, of course, it was complicated. "I work from home," She couldn't do something normal, she probably did voice acting or ran a podcast or some weird shit like that.

"Sick," Don't worry, I made myself cringe when I said that too "I work from home too."

"Yeah, you said something about work last night, are you in marketing?"

I shake my head "I'm a writer," every time I tell someone that, I feel a twinge of embarrassment. I know it wasn't a noble career like my parents had hounded me over, but it felt noble to me. I had two absent parents and was raised by a pack of wolves, I would devour as much food as fast as I could because I didn't know when I would be eating next. I was far too emotional to be around all of the narcissists who preferred their own faces to my company, the only friend I had was the written word.

Since then I have been serving my soul up to strangers through word documents.

The thought makes me homesick for the arms that did not hold me and I truly expect my neighbour to make a mockery of me, the way others have. The way they've told me 'It's a tough industry but hang in there!' and pat me on the back like I'm a hopeful child clinging to her mother's skirts.

"That's really cool," She smiles while she gazes out to the skyline, I can see her perfect side profile and ski-slope nose "I wanted to be a writer, I thought myself to be a poet, and then I thought myself to be a scientist and wanted to be an astronaut. Now, I'm here."

"Where's here exactly?"

"Working things out, figure it out as I go," She shrugs like she is unsure of her answer.

I think it's beautiful how everything around me has been touched by human hands and carries so much history. For a quick moment, my mind wonders to those who built this building, the calloused hands that crafted the iron railing and now my neighbour who was leaning against it. "What's the end goal with this whole freefall thing?"

"To make it out alive."

"And your name?"

"It's Ellie."

-

That night Ellie stuck to being quiet as she promised. The next night was a different story. I was so close to finishing the draft of Nicole Elliot's memoir and was praying that the deadline would pass with no issue.

However, the noise began again. I was coming around to like Ellie and I didn't want to go yell at her again so I shoved my headphones in and turned up my playlist as loud as I could. There is no song I can blast in my headphones to drown it out.

She did say that the next time I was loud I could come and chew her out, I wouldn't do that; I would just knock on her door and quickly tell her that she was being too loud, and then we would both carry on with our respective work.

I stopped in front of the smooth door and raised my hand to knock. Ellie slips the door open just a crack, when she sees that it's me she opens the door. "Hey, Ellie."

"Hello," She smiles "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She had a very nice smile.

We both know the circumstances of my visit but I spell it out anyway "Dude, you're way too loud, it's disruptive and I'm working under a deadline."

"I know, I'm sorry." She looks genuinely apologetic.

"I don't know any office job that needs you to scream for hours on end," Alright, that blows what could've been a simple visit where she apologizes and I leave, I always had to add on.

"Right, sorry," She carries herself with so much confidence that it is like she is wearing armour made of gold though she has these subtle awkward tendencies of someone who has never been loved and was forced to improvise. "It's hard to explain,"

"Yeah, you've said-

"Do you wanna come and see?"

I'm taken a little aback and for a minute I think this is all a ploy for Ellie to lock me in her her apartment and kill me because she is sick of her neighbour banging on her door "What?"

"Well, you've asked a couple of times and if you have a minute I can show you."

I pause, mauling over her proposal. I think of my laptop on my spruce desk, open to the final pages of the memoir and I make up my mind "Alright, just not too long."

"If you say so," Ellie opens the door wider for me to move past her and then shuts it behind us.

Ellie's apartment is what I had expected from her even though it is surprisingly nice. She has a large L-shaped sofa in the living room adorned with throw blankets and pillows and a huge flatscreen with a coffee table in front of it. The layout is exactly like mine but inverted, her open kitchen has some odd knick-knacks that looked like they belonged on an Amazon must-haves list.

I don't go into her bathroom and the door leading to one of the rooms (What is equivalent to Margot's bedroom) is shut. The apartment itself is pretty sparse aside from little bits and pieces as she only moved in a month prior.

On the left side, I see that purple LED spilling out of what I assume to be her bedroom.

She walks in ahead of me and the second I follow in after her there is one question I have to ask "Ellie, are you a porn-star?" There are entirely too many computers in here. Her desk is set up with one of those fancy triple-screen PCs and she has a laptop placed seemingly randomly on a white loveseat that's pressed against the right wall.

There is one of those galaxy lamps that projects that trippy shit onto your walls and ceiling. The screen of her PC is facing our shared wall and I can see a huge hole where I assume that a loud crash from the other night occurred. Plastered all over the walls are posters from video games and movies, many of which I hadn't seen.

"What?" She sounds nearly offended "No," she grabs a folding chair from the corner of the room and unfolds it beside her black florid office chair. She sits on the folding chair and motions for me to sit in the office chair. "Come, sit."

I hesitantly sit in the chair "Are you going to attack me now?" I ask, getting defensive for no particular reason other than it was in my nature "Because I've read The Outsiders and I'm pretty sure I can fight."

She chuckles "I'm not gonna fight you."

"Because I'd win?"

She furrows her eyebrows but has this look of amusement on her face "Yeah, definitely."

"So what is this?" I motion around at all of her equipment.

Ellie puts one earbud in then hand me the other "Chat," She says, looking dead at the camera clipped onto her PC "This is my neighbour who came to yell at me for being annoying, she has every right."

"Who are you talking to?"

"I'm streaming," She said, clicking something on the screen so it changed, instead showing Ellie and I in front of the camera, I looked absolutely lost next to a rolling chat bar full of jokes that I didn't understand and people saying hello to me.

"So I was right," I turn my attention to Ellie "You are an internet person."

"Yeah, I'm an internet person but you weren't right, I don't do porn."

"Not yet," I shrug "Times are desperate," To this, the chats come in even faster than before. "So do you just sit here all night and scream at people?"

"I play video games and do challenges, sometimes I do just sit here and scream at them."

"That makes so much sense," I say "If there's any job that needs you to be obnoxiously loud and annoying, it's a youtube personality."

"Okay, well-

"So you're like Logan Paul?"

Her eyes go wide "No-

"What explains why your eyes are so bloodshot."

"You are a writer," She says it like it's a fact I wasn't aware of "You are in no place to judge, you probably spend as much time in front of a screen as me."

I nod "I hate to say you're right," My attention shifts to the hole behind me "Can you explain how playing video games put a hole through the wall?"

Ellie looks almost embarrassed, she doesn't say anything in response, instead, she just clicks something to screen share with us in a little box in the corner and then goes into YouTube. She types in 'Ellie Williams falls through wall' My eyebrows furrow as I read it, and she clicks the first video that pops up.

The video starts off strong; Ellie is cackling at something that her friend off-camera is saying, her friend then makes a comment that makes her laugh even harder and she throws herself back in her chair. This act breaks it, you can hear the chair snap beneath the pressure and Ellie just lets it happen as the chair crashes against the wall. Her eyes go wide when she realizes she's just put a massive hole into the wall and seconds later you can hear me on the other side banging my hands on the wall. Her eyes go wide and she stares at her friend off-camera, all of the laughter stops abruptly before her friend can't hold it in anymore and erupts in chortles, and the video cuts off.

My hand flies over my mouth to fight back the laughter I so badly want to let out. Ellie and I sit wordlessly, the only sound being donations on the screen and my giggles slipping through. Eventually, I manage to compose myself and look to Ellie, I don't have much to say except for "Oh my god."

A/N: Streamer! Ellie won the poll so here we are. As I was drafting out the other chapters for When I Was Your Girl, I decided that it is most likely to be discontinued unless I do a rewrite which will not be in the near future. I’m not rocking with the plot and there was a lot of mixed feedback, sorry if you were invested I guess, but you have this series to be invested in now!

[aplaceforyourhearttorest]

It Will Come Back 🕮⛧ James Hetfield (18+)

Part Two of Summon Me

Mentions/Warnings: demon!james, oral sex while standing/carrying receiver, fingering, minor blood play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie

Glass bottles' bottoms are clacking themselves together in a loud and rhythmic unison as your roommate hurries her way back inside of your guys' shared dormitory and kitchen, and the abrupt way she nearly drops them on the dining room table in front of you, has you jumping in shocked fright. You're unable ask her what's wrong, before she's manically reaching into the paper bag to rip a beer out of a six pack.

"God, I fucking hate Halloween," she expels during a small pause in between her taking large gulps of the lightly colored beverage. "I swear, it feels like every year since we ended up doing that séance, we've been cursed." Your eyebrows raise on their own accord, and you can't help but laugh in disbelief.

"We, as in you and me, we? Because from what I remember, I came home and found you and your friend drunk off your asses, with a ouija board and a burnt planchette on the living room floor." You raise your hand to solidify your statement by showing off the healed scar on your palm, and only relax back into your seat once she sends you an apologetic smile and tosses her empty bottle in the direction of the trash can.

"Yeah, sorry about all of that," her tone is dismissive, yet soft, and you lower your hand back down onto your book as she moves closer to you by sliding her elbows against the wood. Lifting her forearms to hold her hands together to rest her chin on top of them, you see her fight off a shiver and purposefully look around really slowly. "But you can feel it too, right? It comes and goes every few weeks, but I swear, it always gets colder and darker this time of year. And the fucking scratch marks on the cabinets get longer each year too. I swear I'm not crazy."

You purse your lips to hide your smile, and lift up a shoulder in response as you pinch the used and worn pieces of paper together in the back of your novel. "I think whatever happened that night, you definitely invited something in here, and it just likes to mess with you is all," using a rugged and already half torn edge of the page you stopped on to dog ear it for later, you close your book and go to move your chair back, but stop when you notice the look on her face.

Using her left index finger that's free from underneath her chin, she points at you and narrows her eyes. "What do you mean?" She interrogates, and you force your expression to remain neutral, even as your fingertips turn white as you tighten your hold around your item. "You said me, instead of we. Is there something going on that I don't know about? Have you and Steve been fucking with me?"

You're pushing your chair from further behind you with the backs of your knees by the time she has her eyes narrowed in on you, and you perceptibly shake your head. "I haven't said more than five words to Steve within the past three years he's been around, much less have conspired with him to make you any more paranoid than usual, roomie."

A shrill scream comes from a few feet away from the partially open back door and outside, and this time, it's your roommate that jumps, and then screams. Red and multicolored led lights are displayed and emanating all throughout your dormitory from all sides from the other surrounding homes, and for a second, she looks like she's in a horror movie. A handful of children running around laughing can be seen through the crack, before she lets out a frustrating sigh and kicks it to a full close. The chain is colliding with the doorframe and then bouncing in place by the time she's grinding her teeth together, and you hesitantly take a step back.

"I think I'm just going to head to my room and finish this up," you murmur in the now completely silent home, and nod your head towards the recyclable bag she came running in with just a few minutes ago. "Make sure to save some for the friends you invited over last week, and happy early Halloween." You take her eyes widening in recollection as enough of a goodbye to turn around and start walking down the hall, only to pause at the obvious burn mark still etched into the wood of your guys' shared living room floor.

To this day, it looks brand new, even after your roommate and her friend tirelessly attempted to scrub it away, in fear of the owner of the house seeing it and deducting even more money from the down payment you two put down after every lease renewal. The sliver of scarred skin itches on the edge of your palm, and excitement whirls in your midsection. Peering over your shoulder to look at the clock and then into the entryway of the kitchen, you hastily and excitedly pace the rest of the way to your bedroom, before locking the door behind you and tugging out the folded up pages from the back of your book.

Using the now blue and purple lights flashing their way through your bedroom's curtains to carefully open the paper from the spell book you stole two years ago, you smile down at the full incantation, before setting it down to get the rest of your supplies. In less than thirty minutes, you'll be seeing him again.

⛧

Three large candles are placed right in front of your crossed legs and bent knees, and you place the new and sterilized needle on your thigh, with your eyes anxiously glancing back to the digital clock resting precariously on your desk every few seconds. As soon as twelve makes itself apparent in the bright red numbers being displayed, you're leaning forward to read the already memorized short spell out loud, and carefully pricking your right index finger.

"I summon thee, on the night on Halloween, to feast upon me in the hopes of everlasting fulfillment."

The wet and darkened bead travels itself down your fingertip in a slow and taunting pace, before collecting at your nailbed, and dripping down onto the page. A steady stream of cold air wafts its way over to you and causes goosebumps to raise on your bare skin, and you grin instead of jolt when two hands are audibly smacking themselves on your nearest bedroom's window. Two bright irises stare at you through your nearly see through fabric, and a brush of heat collects itself as James' sharp teeth greet you from the other side of the glass.

You're on your feet before your head can catch up with the rest of your body, and your hands shake as you eagerly unlatch the window's lock on it and push the aged wood upwards. "You know you can just appear in my bedroom like usual, you didn't have to wait outside." Your voice somehow sounds stable in spite of the insurmountable adrenaline pumping through you, and you allow yourself to be guided backwards as he makes his way inside and delicately beckons you back with a large hand.

Thick and long, sharp nails mold themselves around the curve of your waist, and he grins down at you, before peeking his narrowed tongue out to dampen his lips. "As if I would be alright with doing the exact same shit every year," he responds in a lazy drawl, his eyelids barely fluttering in a blink as he hungrily takes in every inch of you. "Especially with you, after finding out how much you enjoy the dramatics."

You scoff and lightly push at his shoulder, your breath catching in your chest as he wraps his other hand around your wrist to pull you flush against his front. "And who keeps digging their nails into the same cabinets every year to scare my roommate?" You shakily breathe, your earlier adrenaline turning into needily want as the hand he has on your waist grazes down to the upper hem of your underwear and shorts.

James amusingly hums, before bending down to brush your foreheads together, his grin transforming into a smirk as he notices you stopping yourself from inching forward. "And yet, who keeps summoning me back every year in tradition, hm?" The question is whispered into the small swell of cold air in between you two, and he immediately responds to you after you jerk forward to slot your lips with his.

Tendrils of his blonde hair make contact with your bare shoulders as he lifts you and presses you up against the wall, and they connect with yours as he frees a hand to use it to tilt your head upward. The sharp nails dig deliciously into your sensitive skin, and he grunts in praise when you obediently open your mouth at the first tap of his fingers on your jaw.

The rough texture of his tongue is the complete juxtaposition to yours, and it somehow makes everything even more stimulating. His slim appendage slides out from his own wet cavern to lap at your own, and the hold he has on you tightens as you use your own to lick a slow and tantalizing line on the roof of his mouth. The sound of you two disconnecting is sopping wet and filthy, and warmth pools in your groin as he cleans up the strands of saliva still keeping you two together with the tip of his tongue, before swallowing them down.

"Missed how good you taste," he admits softly while looking in your eyes, and you're fully relaxed in his hold by the time he's nudging your head to the side to suck marks into your clavicle. Your legs raise to shakily wrap themselves around his middle as his teeth teasingly scrape against your reddened skin, and you feel his smile as your pulse quickens underneath him. "Here," he hums, and smiles to himself at the gasp you let out when he lifts you up another few inches. He's pressing his open mouth on your clothed breasts and inhaling in, like he can still taste you through the fabric. "Here." Your legs loosen and unwrap themselves as your knees graze his ribs, as he raises you even further. Hard and hot impressions grow against your chest as he's using his nails to rip your shirt into two, and you moan once you realize his horns are beginning to grow.

Thickened saliva pools at the front of your flimsy bra before it's torn apart, and you bite back a wail as he fills his entire mouth with your tit. His incisors retreat as he creates hickeys around your perked nipple, and his own moan reverberates around the room as you loosely make fists around his horns and hold onto them for desperate leverage.

He only separates from you to lick the taste of your own flesh into your mouth and partially greet you with a devilish and wolfish grin. "I need you to hold on tight for me, doll. Think you can do that for me?" His deliverance is borderline condescending, but you can't find it in yourself to care as he positions you to have your legs resting on his shoulders, and then he's squatting down. "What are you doing?" Is barely being stuttered out, before he's sliding the cotton fabric of your shorts and underwear to the side, and making out with your pussy.

The sound that escapes you sounds like a scream, and you couldn't be more grateful to the music your roommate began playing just minutes after you headed to your bedroom. James takes his time taking you apart, with each of your lips and your clit being licked and lapped at, and sucked into his hot and searing mouth. If you weren't holding onto his horns for grounding, you'd be gripping your hands in the strands of his hair, or reaching up to dig your nails into the ceiling.

James is hungrily slurping in and dripping out your essence and slick repeatedly as he travels and maps his way through your folds and down to your entrance. Heat jolts down your spine, and you go ramrod straight as your first orgasm pummels into you by the time he's got the tip of his tongue drawing circles and rimming itself against your fluttering hole. He's moaning as you bead and gush around him, and his movements become even more lively after he feeds off of your pleasure and energy.

Panic temporarily sifts through you as your back is being removed from against the wall, but you're placated as he holds onto your waist stands back up to his full height. The top of your head makes light contact with the ceiling of your bedroom, and your thighs shake around his head as he blindly walks you both over to your bed, with his lips still pursed and parted against you. A shocked bout of laughter bellows its way out of you as you're playfully dropped on top of your blankets and sheets, and your widened eyes soften at his rocked and disheveled state that greets you once you look up.

A sheen of your own release is covering the entire lower half of his face, and his eyes grow dark when you decide to lift your still slowly bleeding finger and bring it up to his lips. Red flashes to an almost black as he welcomes the press of you in, and your eyes nearly cross as he secretes a salve to your wound after suckling it clean.

"Do you remember what I gave you permission to do to me, three years ago?" You implore once you're sure your voice isn't going to shake and betray you. You can see him trying to figure it out on his own, but he's too high over your newly transferred vigor and blood that he can't wrap his head around your question. Encircling a hand around his wrist like he had done to you earlier, you hungrily lick at the residual shared tasted of you both of your lips, before guiding his hand down to in between your legs. "I said you could use me, and feed from me."

James' cockhead spurts prerelease in the confines of his jeans, and his hips buck forward on their own once his hand is placed to rest on top of your pussy. Making the conscious and safe decision to retract his nails before sliding and curving his index and middle fingers inside of you, his chest heaves at the sinful sound you make when he does. Circling his digits to rub his fingertips against your spongelike spot until your strings of arousal are nearly wrapping themselves around his wet wrist, his teeth begin to pang with the exertion of having to keep his fangs at bay.

"You can't even imagine the things I want to do to you, sweetheart," he purrs, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth as venom stings against his gums and his horns elongate to their full height. He drives his fingers up into you to their hilt, and then pulls them out until they're nearly completely out of you. "I want to sink my fangs into your jugular and drink you dry, and then feed you my own to heal you. I want to fuck you until you're full of my seed and then eat it out of you, and have you suck the taste of yourself off of my tongue. I want you to feel me whenever you sit down for the next week."

Your eyes roll back, and your legs seize once he adds in his ring finger, and you can't stop yourself from bending your legs against the side of the bed, and yanking yourself down to try and ride them. James beads in his briefs, and a wet stain is visible through his fabric, even in the near pitch black. Red irises stare down at you, and then almost slam shut as he watches you relentlessly try to fuck yourself up and down his digits. "So fucking needy, aren't you? Has it really been that long? I thought it's only been a little bit over a week."

You sit up in a shock when he begins to scissor his fingers inside of you, and the new position has him pressing directly against your spot with the full weight of his hand. You cry out and place your hands on his forearm to stop his movements, and the tremors in your lower half have you shaking uncontrollably and shifting the blankets and sheets on your bed. "Isn't the same when it isn't Halloween, you don't have your horns," you stumble around and freeze in euphoria when he ignores your silent plea to stop. A full circle of his wrist and a come hither motion has you letting go of his arm to fist his shirt instead, as overwhelmed and overstimulated tears make their way down your cheeks. Regardless of how hungry and insatiable he's feeling, James is careful when he removes his fingers from inside of you, and he pauses in place when you refuse to let go of his cotton. Sucking in a shuttering inhale and blinking around the salty sting, you motion for him to take off his shirt, before only letting go to reach down and shakily unbuckle his belt. "I want to ride you."

Your trembling right hand is pressing itself against his swollen dick before he can even verbalize an answer, and you use the rest of your strength to pull him down on top of you, and then flip you guys' over. Tears slightly blur your vision as you unstably unbutton his jeans and tug them down past his upper thighs, but you can still recognize the awe in is gaze. A human version of a hand is running itself through the mane on the side of your head, and you pause your ministrations to lean into the hold, and then his briefs are falling down with his pants. "You don't have to if you aren't up for it, doll. I saw you almost slip into subspace earlier." He gasps as you curl a fist around his length after licking your palm slick beforehand, and the gentle grip in your hair tightens. You mewl at the sensation, and carefully shake your head as you gather yourself and stabilize while straddling his lap.

His free hand comes down to hold you upright as you reach back to grasp onto him, with him hissing at the sensitivity as his cockhead brushes against your still sopping entrance. "Wanna take care of you, just like you take care of me," you almost whisper, and your train of thought gets temporarily lost as you slowly sit yourself down on his dick. The slight twinge of pain is still there regardless of his earlier fingering, and you sigh in relief as his wide girth stretches you to your brink. "You always fill me so well, like you were made for me." The hand on your side pinches itself into your skin, but you ignore the slight discomfort as you fully position yourself up onto your feet. Placing both of your hands on his naked and sweating middle, you both curse out loud with the first slide.

The first time you bottom with your full body weight, your legs almost give out from underneath you, with him pressed so perfectly against your cervix it almost brings tears to your eyes. The hand in your hair slides down to grip onto your ass, and then moves forward to begin to tease at your swollen and bulbous clit. "I was made to fuck you just like this, and for you to use me," James breathily responds, his skin overheating and burning as you bounce up and down his length with reckless abandon. Every single swing of your hips and stuttered pulsing thrust has him spurting small beads of precum in you, and when he feels the telltale sign he's going to cum, he flips you two around. "I can't have my good girl doing all of the work herself, now can I?"

He's burying himself fully into you and sheathing his girth into and against your stretched out and slick walls before you can answer, and all you can do is hold on. The blankets and sheets beneath you shift and crumple in, and you have to wrap a shaking leg around him in fear of sliding off the bed with the force and desperation behind his thrusts. The sounds coming out of you sound strangled and animalistic, and they turn into teary jerks of his name when he reaches down in between you two to stimulate you even further.

He barely even has to tap his thumb against you, because you're already falling apart. You've had countless amounts of rounds of sex with him sporadically over the past few years, but it never feels the same or becomes tiresome and boring. You reach up to dig your nails into his back's skin, knowing that he likes a little bit of pain of his own, and he's bearing himself into you so harshly and deeply, your top halves are sliding off the bed.

A hand is taking the brunt of the fall near your head, and you're nearly bent in half as he continues to use you for his own gain. The new position has your eyes rolling in the direction of the back of your head, and you can feel his skin breaking underneath your fingers as you hold on for dear life. The next piercing thrust has you silently gasping and going completely pliant and numb in his grasp, and you slowly fade off as your third orgasm within the last half an hour shoots through you. James is still pistoling himself in and out of you, before your abused and sore pussy walls constrict in just the right way, and he's filling you with his seed.

Shakily using his knees still pressed against the bed to carefully glide you two down to fully lie down on your carpeted floor, James places kisses to the crown of your head and rubs small circles in your side until you slowly start to resurface and come back to. "There you are." He greets you, his tone hoarse from his own moans and from how spent he now is, regardless of how much he just took from you. Your eyes are refocusing on him and then your eyebrows are furrowing at the itchy fabric being pressed into your forearms. Looking further down and seeing where you two ended up, you're only able to maintain a few seconds of calm eye contact with him, before you're both shaking in silent and hysterical laughter.

The room becomes completely dark once the candles meet their end less than a handful of feet away, and the neighboring lights fade as their owner's head to bed. Tiredly lifting your head to lean forward and kiss him with as much energy you can muster, you smile against his bruised red lips, and murmur, "happy Halloween." The same sentiment is being gently said back to you, and James holds onto you until you catch your breath and go to clean up, and until the morning sun threatens to rise.

You hold back a shiver as the wind from your open bedroom window cascades itself down your arms and legs, with that being the only skin not protected and covered by James' oversize shirt. You're tugged into a tight embrace, and then he's hefting himself back out of your window. "Maybe don't wait until Halloween to summon me again, alright?" He grins at you, and holds onto the window frame as he leans back to evade your halfhearted swat.

"As long as you stop scaring the shit out of my roommate, and just appear in my bedroom next time." You try to reason, but with the fucked out and content expression on his face, and the loose movement in his posture before he lets himself fall back, you know he isn't fully listening. Perking up at the mention of her, he goes to reassure you that he won't, even though he knows that he's going to end up messing with her again. He's got a tradition to uphold, and he is a creature of habit.

⛧

James makes sure to listen in for any movement coming from the front part of the shared dormitory, before entering through the back door. Turning the kitchen light off to make sure his horns and elongated nails can't be seen in his shadow, he makes his way over to their pantry to unscrew the cabinet doors until they fall off.

Once he's done with his handy work, he purposefully pushes a half empty beer bottle off of the table, and makes his way back outside as multiple pairs of footsteps run their way towards the dining area.

A bright light is turned on, and then a frustrated scream can be heard, even as he rounds his way back towards the front of the house.

"I swear to God, I think I'm losing my mind! Someone sedate me!" He hears her scream, and he laughs to himself, before Steve's adding in. "The scratch marks were right there just less than an hour ago! Where the hell could they have gone?" James readjusts the damaged wooden doors in his arms, and sends you a wolfish grin when he sees you peering down at him with an incredulous and exasperated look on your face.

"Call me." He sends up to you, and you can't help but smile to yourself as he walks away, and then disappears.

Raising your now sore arms to push your window to a close and relatch the lock, you make a pitstop and bend down to grab onto the page ripped out of the spell book, before crawling back into your messy bed. The blood drop is now gone from the piece of paper, but you can still taste the residual of it from when you kissed him on the carpet. Satiated bliss weighs you down, and its got you easily closing your eyes and almost immediately falling asleep. Tightening your hold on the paper and rearranging yourself before you do, your last thought is.

'I am definitely calling him again.'

[dee-the-red-witch]

how did you get past “just being gnc”? asking for me, i’ve been in that mindset on and off for years. if you don’t mind sharing

I... okay, look, that's like a question with two other subtextual ones rolled up into it in a donut all at once. And I have an all-day road trip tomorrow, so I don't have a ton of spoons to spare, but I'm still gonna try and tackle all three. And I'm gonna hit the subtext questions first, because they're important and play into it. 1. What's a good way to come out as trans?

There fucking isn't one. For anyone of any gender. There is no perfect way for anyone to come out. It will always be awkward, there's always going to be some kind of price to pay, and you are never going to know that full price up front. It's also just about always less than the price of NOT coming out, though. 2. What's a good way for *ME* to come out as trans?

Okay, this one ties into my own story some, but the shorter version? I don't know. I can't tell you. Because I don't know your details and what's going to work for you or how. What I can tell you is that nobody is going to magically guess it for you, no one's going to give you permission to do it, and you're gonna have to start it yourself. There's folks that will absolutely help later down the line, but you have to initiate and start things, even if it's babysteps. Case in point... 3. ENOUGH SUBTEXT, DENICE, how'd YOU get past just being a guy?

It's complicated. I'd been in denial since the late 90's. so there was a LOT of personal bullshit, and art, and other work, and everything, packed up in and around my gender like mad. Like a wad of gum with a bunch of other stuff stuck to it- and sometimes when a piece finally got pulled free, part of the gum came up with it. Bad analogy, probably. Still. When I finished writing, and laying out, and publishing my first book (and practically screaming HI! IT ME! AM TRANS! in the afterword and other bits, because that's what happens when I write a historical horror novel with a GNC-transmasc-ish protag) I felt empty. Hollow. For months. I was trying and struggling to get a second book off the ground, and having this weight start settling over my head. Only it was like three months early for my usual denial ideation episode. Meanwhile, on facebook, my friend J who was dealing with the tail end aftershocks of a nasty divorce from an even nastier asshole. And of course she was going off about a very rational distrust and dislike of Men and some of their behaviors in particular, and I just had that goddamn black wave of ideation set in on me in full and was mentally internally screaming "But I'm not a fucking man!" and I did the one thing I'd never done in twenty plus years of dysphoria, denial and ideation. I said it out loud. Nobody in the apartment to even hear me. But I said it. And repeated it. And so help me, that depression/denial/ideation wave that I knew was going to end with me hurting myself or worse started immediately fading. I started switching my pronouns over to they/them on my social medias almost immediately. Like I said. Baby steps. But it was enough- one of my partners noticed the update and flat out asked me about it the next time she was over, and that's how I ended up coming out as nonbinary to both her and the rest of my immediate family. And a few days later online all over as well. Realizing I was a girl took a bit, because enby felt right, but not all the way right. I'd started t-blockers already because I knew I had dysphoria issues (just no idea how serious they were) and then started E. All of which was made easier by being in an informed-consent state and having a doctor who had zero issues with prescribing them, and more than a little bit of a mad scientist nature. Three days into Estrogen I just had this one weird moment of driving and hitting a sunny patch of road and suddenly I was happy and laughing in a way I'd NEVER been. That's when it started really clicking for me. When I realized that what had been holding me back was a lot of internalized shame and conditioning that I needed to unpack and get rid of. That's all where I started. (and yes, it meant a whole extra round of comings out and updates and everything, but well, here I am.) I hope that wall of text helps some? But yeah. Take baby steps. Things move from there as you figure it out. But you can't figure it out while you're holding yourself back.

[chiyoso]

𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

sypnosis. a world of normality and what seemed to be hailed as fiction, had separate you from society and those who were once closest to you.y ou were thrown into a life of the unsightly, its beautiful horrors pushing you to the edge of death, but what happens if fate finally takes pity and answers your desperate, internal calls, having you bestowed with a savior made of white and blue hues?

cw. alternate universe, attempt of suicide, explicit, dark and mature content, family trauma, depression, prodigious burnout, people pleasing, breakdowns, physical harm, violence, dead dove: do not eat.

reclaimation banner via. @ainescribe thank you so much bb ily

It was a sick joke.

You didn't know what those things were, those otherworldly things that occupy space, matter, it was everywhere. you see them everywhere, on people's bodies, looking over them, in buildings, outside buildings, creatures that vary sizes, form and appearances.

All since your adolescence.

It was hard to ignore them in your every day life growing up, especially if they got too close to you, trying to make edge you into noticing them, challenging your courage, your fear when they loomed over you, all so they can have a confirmation that you can see them, and they can harm you.

Family, childhood friends, classmates, deciding that you were a "special child" all because you gushed about it to them, once, being taken to anywhere that involves psychological healing, emotional distress, any form of counseling.

You were deemed mental, the silence from the people who you thought should be your safe haven was loud, suffocating, and you grew to inevitably loathe them.

All the skills you acquired, be it the skill of music that astounded many but your own parents, the meals you provided for your family but they refused to participate in eating with you, all that crumbled, it was nothing to them now.

So, what did you do so criminal to them?

Was it the era of close mindedness that many parents seem to harbor at this time? Was it something personal? Did they just grow sick at the idea of having a daughter who couldn't be fucking normal?

“Don't give me that crap!” You screamed, it was gutteral, eyes diluted, all your nerves making you tremble in place.

You wanted to die, and you were going to.

You had the necessities. A chair, some strong wires, scissors? A knife? The train? No, you wanted them to discover your body, beside the suicide note you wrote with hate. Strangled, suffered, tears on the wooden floor. Mhm.

A last push of hardwork, preparing everything, a simple chair, a simple rope, and a simple mindset.

You didn't need to make a mess, you didn't want authorities meet you the first time in a bloody mess, you disappointed enough people, your parents, their expectations, your clan.

So... why not lessen everyone's burden by making it clean, simplistic farewell? Blue veins all over your neck, maybe a foaming in the mouth?

How will your once praised facial features look like when death claimed you? Was it going to look dull? Is it true that people's light in their eyes disappear when they die? Will you look prettier?

Uglier? Wait, your parents are going to be spending a lot in your funeral too, since they're always so damn flashy about anything, flaunting their money, their statuses. They'll for sure pretend to honor your name, as well as the people that are under your parent's lead.

Like sheeps, just like fucking sheeps.

Oh. You were done setting up already, already stood tall on the chair, viewing the window that gave in the only light in your life.

Cheers. To a new life with more pretty people, more pretty things, and a more pretty life.

...

Ah, but you didn't even get laid yet. You didn't even finish that one novel game's ending yet, that manga you wait for every week hasn't even finished yet, you didn't even do anything much yet. You didn't want t—“Huh?”

The moment your leg hovered over the space infront of you, it was a few seconds after you realized, that half of your apartment got ripped apart, you were standing on your chair, a rope loosely held around your neck, but the view before you was the very neighborhood you.

It was bright, shining, the sudden exposure blinded you, rendering you in a stunlock, putting you into a state of immense confusion.

What—“the fuck?” your eyes gleamed at the sight of something bizarre, catching sight that quelled your state of close death, no it wasn't the beautiful azure sky that slapped you right in the face with a breeze, or the heavy destruction in your surroundings, especially not typical grotesque, large scale creature that was levitating in the air before you.

It was it's pursuer, a white haired man, grinning with delight despite his aerial circumstances. He was in the middle of combat from the way he was moving against the—Wait. He can... see it?

He can see that creature? He can see it too?

Your heart pounded with fervor, your ears buzzed, ringing, fighting back to gasp for air from the revelation before you, and all that intensifies once two eyes that almost blended into the sky took notice of you, and the noose hanging around your neck especially.

His body shifted, and you noticed his sudden change of body language as gravity pulls him down, his gleeful expression reduced to a state of neutral seriousness, perhaps realizing the damage in the terrain he was fighting on, he was confident in his movement despite falling in the ether.

Your eyes remained on the sight of orange and golden destruction, fumes of smoke were heavy, pieces of cement everywhere, and you were now just processing the state of disarray your neighborhood was in, but you didn't care.

You didn't care. They probably didn't know the cause of this anyways, the media would definitely paint this unnatural scenario as something related to religion or a natural disaster, one of the two, they also can't see the gigantic otherworldly form in the sky anyways, but he can.

He can see it, he can see it like you do.

reblogs help my audience reach, thank you.

taglist. @ainescribe @lychniis @sleep-deprivedracoon @ciarchivez @teapartyspilled @wanderingconstellations @kyouko-writes @antimatterz @hitomisuzuya @serenitiiy @scaraswh0re @scara6 @kazushawty @oreo-creampie @angelgyumi @flametrashira @renhoeku @v3lv3tf0x @meowzfordayz @countessqin @aerithsthingss

also, here's the book cover i made for this series <3 ✌🏻>wÓ

[sleepythemvp]

<I’m back, WITH ANOTHER ANOTHER ANOTHER VISUAL NOVELS THAT I JUST FOUND ON ITCH.IO!! Well, yes I will be writing stuffs about them as well.>

Project Blue.

Asher x Reader

———————————————

After you guys presentation being an absolute successful, you give him a big hug when the both of you got out of the classroom. Asher just chuckles how cute you’re being yourself right in front of him and he just being really pretty and handsome in front of you…gosh you could stare at him all day long, buuttt cannot get late for the date as well - you thought.

— Oui, Let’s head back to my house…I still want to watch a LOT of horror movies with youu.

— Yeah I bet you do number 2, can wait for you to jumped on my lap when you scream out loud lol~

— Whaa- don’t called me by that nickname…you know I will call you by that nickname once again.

— No you won’t…would you?…

— nnnNUMBER O-

— FINE FINE I YIELD.

— Yeah you should be, mwehehehhehehehe.

He stares at you for a good few minutes and left out a soft chuckles, his hand placing on your other cheek as he bend down to kiss your cheek gently while smiling brightly at the sight of your cheek turning into a great red tomato. Feeling slightly clingy, you nuzzled your cheek against his palm and…give it a gentle bite. Asher left out a confused chuckles while looking at you biting his palm, it doesn’t seem like he’s feeling discomfort of this…new love language that he’s experience with?

— Ow- what was that for??

— nomnomnom, just a way of mine to show you that I love you~

You said with a wink which make him blush intensely, then left out a sigh and rolled his eyes.

— You’re so annoying, but you are lucky that you’re cute.

Then he pulled you into a tight hug, letting his fingers running through your hair…the feeling is very warm and comfy, you don’t want to get out if this any sooner. But the both of you have a date to start with so…

— C’mon now Ash, let’s head to my house?

— Yes ma’am, as you wish.

Suddenly, you get on your tip toes and give him a peck on his cheek, that just make his heart feel flutter inside.

— Congratulations again about your film internship!

— Aw…thanks my dear…

With you arms wrapped around his left arm, the both of you begin to exit the building while chatting about the presentation that the both of you just finished happily. On the way to your house, the both of you guys stopped at the convenience store to buy some snacks for the movies datee, energy drinks, Soju, chips, Pocky…stuffs like that! And he just happily begins to telling you about the movie that he’s going to pick when it comes to his turns, you just nodding and smiling at him while listening to his words.

— I-I’m sorry, did I ramble again?…

— No no, keep going Ash, I would love to hear all of that.

Your words make him smile, he nodded and begin to talks about the movie once again that he’s sure will make you jumped or heck…even scream which makes you feel excited and scared at the same time.

<NOT THE END YET! BECAUSE I AM SIMPING OVER THIS MAN.>

[hauntedwitch04]

The loneliest

Bassist!Remus Lupin x Writer!Reader

Words: about 1.4k words

Warnings: none, just sad

Author's note: hi loves! here for you another bassit!remus lupin, this time a sad one. I had this idea bit ago, and I wrote it down in the drafts and today I said "why not?". As already said, I'm a superfan of Maneskin so here I am with another one of their song!

My first idea

Hope you like it!

Requests are open I Ask

My masterlist

Join the Taglist

Love is the cruelest curse that has ever been inflicted on humanity.

This is all I managed to write on my computer, while wrapped in about 20 blankets on my friend's couch. It has been months since I had to start writing my new novel, and of course I had to start now, after breaking up with my boyfriend, or rather with the love of my life.

I haven't been able to stop crying for days, the tears seem to have become part of my face as I stare at that blank screen.

Susy told me to let it go and think about recovering instead of thinking about the book, but this is the only thing that can distract me from the pain.

We have never quarreled like this in all the years we have been together. Every fight between us, no matter how small it was, but this time it really destroyed me.

It had all started with the fact that he hadn't spent the night at home for weeks now, every night out with his friends for events or for fun, and I couldn't help but be happy for him, but I felt in all this a bit neglected. When he was home he was always busy in his study or on the phone, and he never had a second to talk to me. In the evening we would have dinner in silence, and when he finished eating he would go immediately to another room, in case he was home and had not already gone out. After a long time I couldn't stand this anymore so I made up my mind to talk to him, but at that time he was at the studios of the record company. Once I got there I went to wait for him in his studio after greeting the other members of the Maraurders band: James, the drummer; Sirius, the singer; Regulus, the guitarist.

I waited a few minutes in the room, looking at that space so large and so charged with the 'essence of Remus at the same time, until my gaze fell on the small sofa in front of the window, or rather what was on the small sofa. I moved closer and realized that the colorful object that had attracted my attention from afar was a pair of red lace panties.

I remember how the air went out of me and tears came to my eyes, and before I could realize it I slumped to the floor. I don't remember the door opening, but I remember Remus's gaze, his eyes wide with astonishment and his running toward me. He was talking but I couldn't hear him; it was as if I were underwater and my ears were plugged.

Then I remember my screams, everything I had held in until that moment, and like a wave I had let my anger crash against him. Remus was trying to explain, to speak, but I was not giving him time, and before I could understand what my mouth was saying I had told him I did not want to see him again. I regained my senses from that empty feeling once in the car, where I screamed so loud that my throat hurt. After that I went home, got some of my things, and went to Susy's, looking for a safe haven. For days my fiancé had tried to contact me, or my manager or my friends, but never had anyone responded to him.

Love is a double-edged sword because you can get hurt when you love too much and when you love too little. The love I have for Remus is an eternal love, which no matter how bad it has made me feel will not cease to exist, because every cell in my body loves and desires him and for that I hate myself.

My thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of my cell phone, and I realize that my manager has sent me an e-mail. I open it and read it.

"This footage is from yesterday. Look at it. I love you. Mary"

That's all it says with a link attached. Immediately I open it and realize that it is a video of the last Marauders concert, and I am immediately ready to close it, when my eye falls on Remus. I've never seen him look so bad. He has dark circles under his eyes and a pale face. His eyes are dull as he looks out at the crowd and plays bass. When the song is over, Sirius asks the crowd for silence.

"Please be quiet. For the first time in my life, I find myself getting serious. Usually I'm the one messing around with girls, or boys, but apparently this time Remus has broken my record. The poor guy is devastated, and I can't help but feel guilty, because it's my fault. Y/N, if you ever see this video, I'm sorry for what happened, for all the misunderstanding, and please listen to poor Moony, we can't stand to see him so miserable anymore." He says walking across the stage, and looking at the camera, as I see Remus move to the center of the stage in front of the microphone.

"For example, you could start listening to him from this song that his poor broken heart wrote entirely for you." Sirius continues before remaining silent and giving his friend space.

You'll be the saddest part of me

A part of me that will never be mine

It's obvious

Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

You're still the oxygen I breathe

I see your face when I close my eyes

It's torturous

Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

There's a few lines that I have written.

In case of death, that's what I want, that's what I want

So don't be sad when I'll be gone

There's just one thing I hope you know, I loved you so

'Cause I don't even care about the time I've got left here

The only thing I know now is that I wanna spend it

With you, with you nobody else here

Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

You'll be the saddest part of me

A part of me that will never be mine

It's obvious

Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

You're still the oxygen I breathe

I see your face when I close my eyes

It's torturous

Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

I'm sorry but I gotta go

If you'll ever miss me give this song another go

And I just keep on thinking how you made me feel better

And all the crazy little things that we did together

In the end, in the end, it doesn't matter

If tonight is gonna be the loneliest

You'll be the saddest part of me

A part of me that will never be mine

It's obvious

Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

You're still the oxygen I breathe

I see your face when I close my eyes

It's torturous

Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

You'll be the saddest part of me

A part of me that will never be mine

It's obvious

Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

You'll be the saddest part of me

A part of me that will never be mine

It's obvious

Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

You're still the oxygen I breathe

I see your face when I close my eyes

It's torturous

Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

Remus' low, deep voice enchants me, and I feel tears flowing overbearingly down my cheeks. I listen to every second of that song, eagerly, holding each word close to my heart, imprinting them on my soul.

Without thinking about it I put everything to the side and run to the door with the intention of going to him and apologizing, but I am met with a scene I never expected. Remus is sitting with his head between his legs in front of the door, a bouquet of flowers abandoned at his side. Upon hearing the door open he turns and looks at me. He opens his mouth but makes no sound. His face is marked with tears as much as mine and I cannot resist. I throw myself into his arms, holding him tightly as I never have. He returns that gesture and strokes my hair. I begin to cry again as I ask him a thousand times to apologize, and he replies that he is the one who needs to apologize. We don't do anything else, we just stand there embracing, finding ourselves, and I realize that yes love is the greatest curse ever cast on human beings, but also the greatest blessing, because without suffering we would never experience such a strong and beautiful feeling.

[mirai1269]

Pig shenanigans(Vincent x [MC])

That ask about Vincent's hypothetical pet pig inspired me.

Stuck in a Yandere Visual Novel... HELP!! is made by @pumpkin-spike18

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It never accured to [MC], that he would step into a place like this. 

"Welcome to my humble home, [MC]!" 

Though the 'home' itself wasn't humble as Vincent stated, it was pretty moderate for the home of a family as rich as Vincent's. [MC] fell silent at the sight before him. Once they stepped through the large, double winged door, he was greeted by a wide staircase leading up to the next upper floor, and a man, who was dressed in a butler suit. 

"Greetings, young master!" The older man bowed his head slightly at the taller boy. Then with an emotionless face, he turned to [MC]. "I didn't know we'd have a guest over." 

Finally realizing the suddenness of it all, [MC]'s face turned red in embarrassment. Is he going to be a bother for these people? Is it really okay if he's here? What if he damages something? Like accidentally scraping the furniture? Or dirtying the Persian carpet? Or worse, breaking something, they would've wanted to put on an auction, like a century old vase?! He was shaking like a leaf at these thoughts.  

Vincent gave a light chuckle at the boy's reaction. His arm found its way around [MC] shoulder, pulling the burnet close, the sudden contact making the shorter boy snap out of his thoughts. 

"Bernard, this is [MC], a very good friend of mine. [MC], this is Bernard, my personal butler." As he said this, a chill ran through [MC]'s body. "If you need anything, don't fret to ask him, okay?" 

The shorter boy weakly nodded as a reply. 

"G-good evening, si-" 

But before [MC] could even finish, a loud scream-like noise ran through the house. In fear, [MC] grabbed onto Vincent, greatly surprising the red head. Once the scream died down however, [MC] quickly let go, muttering out an apology. 

"WHAT THE F*CK WAS THAT?!" [MC] shouted mentally, another, more gory kind of thought process sprouting in his mind.  

Surprisingly, instead of hurrying, thumps, paired with the sound heavy panicked breathing coming from the basement as [MC] imagined, a series of rapid little clip-claps echoed from upstairs, paired with... oinking? Finally, the causer of these confusing noises made an entrance at the top of the stairs. 

"William!" Vincent cheered, crouching down, with his arms spread wide open. In an instant, the pink, chubby figure of a piglet dashed against his chest, which Vincent embraced warmly. "Aww, did you miss me that much~?" 

[MC] watched the two of them quietly, pondering at the pair before him. The piglet was happily grunting into Vincent's chest, and Vincent stroking its head with great care. Seeing Vincent like this felt so foreign to [MC]. Yet in his chest, it awoke something warm. Subconsciously, a small smile bloomed on his face. Completely unrelated, his face started to feel warmer too. 

Vincent, not forgetting about his guest, straightened up, the pink pet still secured in his arms. 

"[MC], this is my 'son', Prince William Erik Ferdinand Albert Alfred Gustavo Malfred Minyon Raul de Champagne the 1st!" Seeing [MC]'s stunned face, Vincent quickly added. "...or Will, for short." 

[MC] hummed, then gave a light, warm smile at the little animal. "Hi William! It's nice to meet you! Huh?" He exclaimed, pointing at Will's nose. "Is that a little heart there? How adorable~!"  

Other than the nose, little heart marks were also present on William's ears, around his eyes, and, like a cutie mark, on both sides on his upper thighs. 

Vincent smiled, his teeth glinting in the sunlight. "Oh but, be not fooled!" He continued, lifting William up to his face. "This one right here is a known troublemaker around these parts. A stealer of hearts!" He announced, sounding as if he was scolding the pig. "And also, a thief of anything left on a plate, he he!" 

[MC] smiled at Vincent's remarks, looking back at the pink little creature. In turn, it looked back, with its dark, abyssal eyes. Its nose wiggled, head reaching closer to the young boy. At first, [MC] began to extend a hand towards the pig, but quickly decided against it when the pig stretched its head towards him. Noticing this, Vincent lifted the animal to him. 

"Don't worry, he doesn't bite. He's a very friendly piggy, right Wills?" Vincent cooed. 

The two, [MC] and William, stared at each other for a short moment, then fuelled by a little confidence, [MC] gently reached for the pig's nose, letting it smell his hand. After some happy grunts from Will, [MC] went in, and started petting its head. His fur felt surprisingly soft, but thin. 

"Wanna try holding him?" Vincent asked, not waiting for an answer as he placed the piglet into [MC]'s hands. In an instant, William made himself comfortable in the unsure hands of the burnet. As [MC] started scratching the lower part of his back, William let out a series of short, happy grunts. 

"See? He already likes you!" 

[MC] became more relaxed as the pig breathed slowly and calmly in his hold. "What a good boy." [MC] breathed out. Vincent gazed at [MC], his smile softening at the sight.  

"I knew he would belong here." 

After a while, Vincent started to feel that perhaps William was taking up a bit too much of [MC] affection and attention. 

"Well then!" Vincent broke the moment, clapping his hands together. "I say let's go to my room. It's perfect for studying, plus little Wills here still needs his naps. Come here Will!" But as he reached for the pet, it let out an angry yelp, tucking itself deeper into [MC] arms, leaving both boys shocked. 

Confused and unsure, [MC] looked at his host helplessly. "It's okay, I'll just put him onto the ground." But oh, William isn't some weak-willed pig. When the burnet tucked a hand under his belly, the pig gently bit into the sleeves of [MC]'s coat. Vincent let out a loud horrified gasp. 

"William! Bad pig!" 

In the end, Vincent literally had to tear William off of the poor boy. Thankfully, the coat didn't tear, but it was stained with saliva. 

"Bad, very bad pig! I raised you better than this!" Vincent scolded the pet, then turned to his guest.  

"[MC], I'm so, so, so sorry! He's never done this before!" With William still in his hand, Vincent pulled out a pristine white handkerchief from his pocket, giving it to [MC], who hesitantly accepted it. 

"... t-thanks." He replied, trying to get off as much of the stain as possible. It barely did anything. "... I'll try running it under some water." 

Vincent nodded. "I'll show you where the bathroom is." On their way, Vincent kept glaring angrily at William. "Little traitor." He whispered in a stern tone, but William just grunted happily. 

With [MC]'s coat drying on the back of the chair in front of Vincent's desk and with William calmly dozing off in his little bed, Vincent and [MC] were on the red head's bed. Vincent lying on his stomach and [MC] sitting sideways, both of them studying chemistry. Turns out, Vincent wasn't as good at raising his grades as he was raising William. Lucky for him, he became friends with a star-student of their high-school.  

[MC] wondered how this could even be possible. He had always assumed Vincent had private tutors or that his parents made sure Vincent had his studies as a priority. In the end, [MC] realized that even the fact that Vincent studied at a public school and not some fancy private one is a question not worth prying. 

"So, in more simple terms- hey, are you listening?"  [MC] called out, snapping the red head out of his daydream. 

"Of course! All my attention is reserved for you~!" Vincent replied, a cocky smile widening on his face, resting in his hands, his elbows digging into the soft mattress, while swinging his legs back and forth, giving the picture-perfect image of a schoolgirl from an anime. [MC] let out a tired sigh, turning back to the notebook. "But god, this is really boring." Vincent continued, also sighing tiredly. 

"I know, but this is important. Especially since you have a test coming up. So, pay attention!" 

Vincent huffed in annoyance, turning to lay onto his back. 

"Vincent, come on! I don't have all day, you know." [MC] pleaded, to which Vincent huffed more. 

"He's acting like a toddler." 

"Why should I even know how to solve a problem like this? I mean look!" Turning back to the notebook, pointing at the unsolved chemical equation. "Why should 'I' know this? It's not like I'll be a chemist or something." 

[MC] looked at the irritated boy, petting his back in empathy. "I wholeheartedly understand, but the sooner this is done, the less we'll have to suffer with it." 

Vincent looked back at him with puppy eyes, as if it wasn't him who asked [MC]'s help with the subject. Though, with Vincent lying on his stomach, face half buried in his arms, paired with these eyes, he looked more like a helpless kitten. [MC] almost felt his heart melt at the sight (only almost). 

"I know!" Jumped up Vincent. "How about we ditch this, and watch a movie?" He continued, with such confidence, [MC] started envy it.  

"He's not taking this seriously..." 

"Vincent, if you fail this test, you'll have to rewrite it, and then you'll have to suffer with practicing this again. Do you want that?" 

Vincent stayed silent for a few seconds. 

"Would you help me again if I asked?" He blurted the question out. 

[MC] felt his stomach tighten. That question felt a bit dangerous. He didn't know why. 

"I-I guess... but only if-" 

At that, Vincent flashed a smile. 

"Then what am I supposed to be worried about?" 

[MC] didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or cry. 

"Then why am I even here?" [MC] thought out loud. 

"Huh?" 

"If you don't care about the grade, then why am I helping you study?" [MC] asked again. Vincent remained silent. Without a proper response, [MC] jumped off the bed, and headed to the bedroom's door. "Tutoring's over." 

"It's about time I go home anyway."  

Jumping off the bed, the burnet remembered something. 

"[MC], wait!" Vincent called out, but the other boy didn't pay much attention to it. 

"I almost left without my jacket..." 

Quickly turning around, [MC] didn't see Vincent getting off of the bed, and crashed into him, resulting in both of them falling back onto the bed. 

"Oof- sorry! I- " [MC] blurted out, before realizing the predicament he was in. Vincent's hip was caged in between his arms, and said young man was staring into his brown eyes, like a surprised baby deer. Face flushed, breathing slow, eyes fixated on each other. 

[MC] figured he should stand up and let the man go, but Vincent quickly caught his hand, holding it firmly, but not in a hurting way. 

"Please... don't leave yet!" Vincent asked. "I'll take it seriously. Promise! Just... stay a little longer!" 

[MC] let a defeated sigh. He really needed to go home, otherwise Newt will think Vincent had kept him prisoner. Plus, he and Leon had plans. 

"Vincent, I must go. I could come back another day or-" 

From the corner of his eye, [MC] noticed his jacket... moving? It fell off the chair and bolted through the half open door. 

"MY JACKET!!" [MC] shouted. 

"My god, WILLIAM!!" Vincent joined in. 

And thus, the pig hunt began. At first, they couldn't track down where William ran off to. Heck, [MC] didn't even understand why he even stole his jacket. 

"I really don't understand what got into him. He's never done this before." Vincent wondered. [MC] continued to look around in the dining area, believing that perhaps William got distracted by hunger. 

"Vincent, I'd appreciate it if you helped me here." [MC] replied. Vincent huffed in annoyance. 

"Why do you even need to leave? It's not even that late yet." He mumbled. [MC] rolled his eyes. 

"Vincent, if you're not helping me, I won't come back anymore." [MC] retaliated. Before Vincent could even move, the familiar grunts of William rang from the room next to the diner. 

"He's there!" The burnet exclaimed, rushing towards the sound, Vincent following him close. Lo-and-behold, William was rolling around, playing with the sleeves of the jacket. 

"Stop right the-" 

Vincent, swiftly and elegantly, rushed to his pet and picked him up. 

"Got him!" He cheered, proudly. William shrieked and kicked in his hands, but Vincent's grip was firm on him.  

Much like the first time, the jacket was cowered in saliva and... bits of carrot? When did Will have the time to- 

"Here. Sorry, it got dirty again... ew." Vincent handed the jacket over, holding Will in one hand, pressing him to his chest. "I could have it washed here and give it back on Monday, if that's fine with you." He offered. This put [MC] in quiet a dilemma. He'd still need a jacket for that outing he had planned with Le- 

"I can lend you one of my cloaks. Would that be okay?" 

Even the thought shook [MC]. 

"B-but what if I ruin it?" He stuttered. With a calm smile, Vincent shrugged. 

"It's just a piece of fabric. Who cares? You on the other hand could catch a cold without one." With a blush growing on his face, the red head averted his gaze. "I'm more concerned about that." 

[MC] felt a quick flutter in his heart. 

"Wha- what is this? He's just worried. ...yet-" 

"So, when are you coming back to help me study?" Vincent continued. [MC] stared at him in silence. "What? I helped you, and you promised!" 

"What a way to ruin the moment, Vincent." 

With the warm cloak keeping him warm, [MC] bid goodbye to Vincent. 

"Don't forget then! You're mine for the weekend~!" Vincent yelled. [MC] rolled his eyes at him. He was starting to get used to these antics of the red head. With a final wave, [MC] stepped into his house and Vincent signalled to the chauffeur. 

As the car pulled up to the front door, a chuckle tried to escape from Vincent's throat. He ran straight up to his room and let it all out. Once done, William trotted over to his owner and snuggled up to his leg. Vincent picked him up into his arms and dig into his pocket. Feeding the pig a few carrot slices he kissed the pet's head. 

"Good boy." 

[smashhed]

// JUST SOME RANDOM RANT //

My name is, well, let’s keep it a secret and just call me Mr. You-Know-Who. When I see storytelling, I don't just see words on a page; I see a vibrant world coming to life. It's like opening a portal to another universe where emotions run wild, and anything is possible. From laughing out loud at a dragon terrified of spiders to shedding tears over a beloved character's fate, storytelling is a magical craft that pulls at our heartstrings and tickles our funny bones. Storytelling is like a delicious recipe – a dash of drama, a sprinkle of humor, a pinch of sadness, and a whole lot of imagination. It’s the art of blending words to create a tapestry of emotions, making readers laugh, cry, gasp, and sometimes even throw the book across the room in frustration (but in a good way). Imagine you’re reading a mystery novel, and just as the detective is about to reveal the murderer, you realize it's the butler, and you shout, “I knew it!” That's the thrill of suspense. Or take a romantic comedy where the two leads, after endless banter and miscommunication, finally share a kiss under the rain – classic, cheesy, and utterly heartwarming. Now, let’s add some spice . Picture a fantasy story where the mighty dragon, feared by all, has a crippling fear of spiders. The brave knight has to rescue the dragon from a particularly aggressive arachnid while both scream in terror. It’s ridiculous, yet it brings a smile to your face, showcasing how humor can break tension and add a layer of relatability to even the most fantastical tales.

Emotions in storytelling are like colors on a painter’s palette. Take sadness, for example. In literature, it’s often delivered with a poignant punch. Think of John Green’s "The Fault in Our Stars." When Hazel reads Augustus’s letter, it’s hard not to feel the lump in your throat. Or consider “Marley and Me,” where a simple story about a dog and his family can leave you sobbing like you’ve just watched the end of "Titanic" on repeat.

But storytelling isn't just about individual emotions – it's about the journey through them. J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series masterfully takes readers from the joy of discovering a magical world to the sorrow of losing beloved characters, and then back to the triumphant thrill of defeating evil. It’s an emotional rollercoaster that keeps readers hooked from start to finish.

There once was a boy named Sam, whose life was a kaleidoscope of laughter, mischief, and the warm embrace of his mother’s love. Sam and his mother, Mary, were an inseparable duo. She was his best friend, his confidante, the anchor in his stormy seas. They shared everything, from secret midnight snacks to their dreams about exploring the world together.

But one rainy afternoon, Sam’s world came crashing down. Mary, who had always been a fortress of strength, was diagnosed with a terminal illness. The news hit like a sledgehammer, shattering their cozy bubble of happiness.

Sam refused to believe it at first. “Doctors make mistakes, right, Mom?” he asked, his voice trembling. Mary, with a soft, sad smile, stroked his hair and said, “Sometimes they do, darling. But sometimes, they don’t.”

As the days turned into weeks, Mary grew weaker, but her spirit never wavered. She continued to share stories with Sam, tales of knights and dragons, of love and bravery, infusing each one with a life lesson she hoped he would carry long after she was gone.

One day, as they sat by the window watching the rain, Mary handed Sam a small, worn-out journal. “This is for you,” she whispered. “It’s filled with all my thoughts, my dreams for you, and a few recipes you love. Whenever you miss me, just open it, and I’ll be right there with you.”

Sam clung to the journal like a lifeline. As Mary’s condition worsened, he read her words over and over, finding solace in the pages filled with her love and wisdom. The night she passed away, Sam lay beside her, holding her hand, whispering stories of their adventures, as if by telling them, he could keep her with him a little longer.

In the weeks that followed, Sam felt lost. The house, once filled with laughter, now echoed with silence. But every time he felt the weight of grief becoming unbearable, he opened the journal. Mary’s words wrapped around him like a warm hug, reminding him that she would always be a part of him.

Years later, Sam grew up to be a writer, his stories touching the hearts of many. Whenever he wrote, he felt his mother’s presence, guiding his pen. And in his first book’s dedication, he wrote, “To Mom, who taught me that the stories we love are never truly lost. They live in our hearts forever.”

Now that’s a gut-punch of sadness, right? But it’s this depth of emotion that makes storytelling so powerful. It’s the ability to take you on an emotional journey, to make you feel deeply, whether it’s joy, sorrow, or laughter. Mixing humor, suspense, sadness, and joy creates a story that sticks with you. It’s like making the perfect cup of coffee – balancing bitterness and sweetness to get it just right.

[sailorsenshishitposter]

2 Men 1 Tesla Coil

Warning. Highly cursed. Smut is towards the end mostly. Direct sequel to this but can be read as stand alone. https://www.tumblr.com/sailorsenshishitposter/741029367625482241/femboys-2-electric-boogaloo?source=share

It was decided then. Sundowner was going to learn what a power bottom was. The two men met up the following night. They decided to go to a hotel since Sam could still be heard sobbing throughout the building. "What is with that guy? He plays VR chat once and now suddenly everything is about him needing to cry to my heart will go on? Disgusting."

Monsoon finished rambling only to find Sundowner laying on the bed while eating a bag of Cheetos. "What are you doing?" The other man opened his jaw and ate the contents in one gulp. Burp "waiting for the movie to start." Monsoon frowned. "Its not another one of Sam's suggestions is it?"

"Course not! I asked the guy at the video store what all the gay fellas are watching and he suggested this one." Before the cyborg could even ponder about how a DVD rental chain was still open, the opening credits started. Sundowner then grabbed the man and forced him on to the bed, snuggling him. Well this was new.

Just as Monsoon had tried to hide his blushing cheeks the dialog could be heard. "Sometimes, I pull so hard, I rip the skin-" It was now ten minutes later. The television had been destroyed by a flying sai and one could hear loud screaming in Khmer. "FROM NOW ON YOU WILL READ THE CASE TO CHECK FOR 'STARRING STEVE RAMBO'!"

Sundown lowered his head in embarrassment. "Will do." He realized the best thing to do was to calm down. "Got any smokes?" Sundowner asked. "That depends. How do you feel about red phosphorus?" An hour later and the two men were higher than the length of the ending cutscenes of metal gear solid 4. "This reminds me of the time I took so much benadryl and was visited by the hat man. Good times were had, I tell ya what."

Monsoon had a higher tolerance to the smoke so he wasn't as severely affected. "Dude. What in the hell are you talking about?" He would give the other man a judging look if he had the eyes to do so. "Y'know. Hat man!" Monsoon had no idea what the man was talking about. "You've lost your mind..."

And with that Sundowner ran into the bathroom and locked himself in. The cyborg sighed. "Stop being such a baby! I already learned to stop crying by the time I was seven so stop being so dramatic!" More sniffling could be heard. "Ugh. If I say I'm sorry will you come out?" The crying stopped for a moment. "Maybe."

"How about this? I'll have the lab department create you that dog you love so much. What was his name? Handbanana?" The door then burst wide open. "YIPEE!" Sundowner jumped on the bed canon ball style and violent shaking could be felt through the whole building.

Monsoon then sat down next to him and patted the mans bald head. "You know what? I think I'm ready to know what a power bottom is!" The cyborg grinned. "Wonderful. Let's get started." Monsoon then went on in full detail about the meaning of a power bottom and every gay slang terminology one could think of.

"Wow. You find out something new every day, huh?" Monsoon grabbed a book out. "This is my favorite novel. Let's move on to the foreplay!" They ended up reading the selfish gene in its entirety. Sundowner didn't understand a word of it but he enjoyed hearing the other man moan when talking about memes.

"So how do we do this?" It was Sundowners first time with another man. "We use my electromagnetism to our advantage. You enter inside me and it will be like we've become a tesla coil." Sundowner was confused. "What's that?" Monsoon sighed. "Just shut up and get on with it already..." Sundowner was about to put it in when he remembered something important.

"Wait! What about protection?" Monsoon threw something towards him. "I've got it covered." It turns out that it was a condom made of tinfoil. "Alright! Three..., two...., one...." And blast off. Sundowner was trying to enjoy the feeling when he noticed something was off. "Monsoon? Babe ya okay?"

The cyborg started violent shaking. "NOT ENOUGH MEMORY IN STORAGE". Sundowner pulled out like a slip and slide. "THE HELL?" He went to make sure the other man was alright. "Sorry about that. I guess you're bigger than I assumed you would be. But don't worry, we just need to make more room." Monsoon then gave him two USB sticks. "This should give us more memory. Insert them right here." His chest plate moved to reveal two USB ports where his nipples should be.

Sundowner plugged them in and then twisted them like a key causing Monsoon to let out a loud hentai style moan. Sundowners penis than began to harden more than Armstrong's nanomachines. "Hot!" Then he rammed inside and shouted "IT'S MY HOLE! IT WAS MADE FOR ME!" Monsoon couldn't get enough. "C'mon, I can take it!"

Sundowner somehow went even deeper, causing Monsoon's eye socket wires to burst out and push off his mask. They were both close to finishing. Soon the Alabama man screamed "AND IT WILL CUM!" finally climaxing. This caused the other man to release, his snail like protrusions twisting into hearts.

As they both rested they soon heard a beep. "What's that?" Monsoon blushed. "My battery is low. You better hook me up to an outlet." Sundowner then carried the man bridal style all the way to the kitchen counter and placed him on top of it. "Hope this works..." He took out his phone charger and plugged it into the wall outlet. Then he saw the two USB nipples protruding. 'Well I gotta take those out I guess..."

Five minutes later and Monsoon was now charging. "This goes without saying but I think we're going to need to leave soon. I'm not paying for the damage we caused to our hotel room." Sundowner shushed him. "No need darlin'. I've got it covered." He then slammed down a large stack of cash. The cyborg zoomed in on what he was seeing. "Where did you obtain this?"

Sundowner grinned. "Why monopoly of course! I can't believe they just let you take it all!" Monsoon then stared into the ceiling, contemplating his life choices.

[nocturnalswarehouse]

Chapter 30 - The Jarl's Gratitude

Fic Series: At Long Last

Pairing: Brynjolf x Female Dovahkiin|Dragonborn (Adranelle Rolaine)

Premise: Eight years after being declared the Dragonborn, and three years after Alduin is defeated, Adranelle (Adi) Rolaine finds herself back in Riften to help Brynjolf with the Thieves Guild's reputation.

Masterlist

Taglist: @thequeenofthewinter, @oblivions-dawn

Word count: 1, 279

A/N: Welcome to the final chapter! I have never been able to make it through a full novel-length fic, but thanks to support from friends and comments from readers, I had the motivation to finish the piece :) There will be a sequel coming, and I will work on it as much as possible with school happening, but I won't be posting it until the spring. For now, I'll be posting snippets here and there when I can be active in ask games and in general. I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

Despite being called in together, Jarl Laila addressed the thieves separately. Brynjolf was first, Laila granting him ownership to Riftweald Manor. “I understand that Mercer Frey is not the man we all thought. I thank you both for putting an end to his reign. Brynjolf, Riftweald is yours if you so wish. Anuriel will speak with you about the terms while I speak with your partner.”

“Thank you, my Jarl,” Brynjolf gave her a genuine smile and bowed his head before following the Bosmer into a separate room. 

“Adranelle Rolaine.” Jarl Laila smiled warmly as the half-Breton. Adi felt uncomfortable under the Jarl’s gaze, hearing her full name out loud for the first time. Even more so with Maven’s piercing glare directed at the half-Breton behind the Jarl. 

“How-”

“You’re the talk of the town lately,” Jarl Laila held up her hand, stopping Adi from speaking. “My steward has informed me that you’ve made quite an impression in the Rift; several of our citizens have expressed their admiration. Much like Mjoll, you’ve become a champion of our hold. Your willingness to help people with their difficulties and providing assistance for their needs has caused many to sing your praises. As the Jarl of Riften, I feel it is my duty to honour your selfless behaviour by honouring you with the title Thane of Riften.”

“I would be honoured to accept, my Jarl,” Adi showed gratitude, although felt unsure. The last thing she needed was another title that screamed ‘hero,’ but who was she to decline the Jarl?"

“Before I can present you with the title, there is but a single requirement you must fulfill,” Laila continued. “A Thane of Riften is required to maintain permanent residence within the city walls. My steward-”

“Sorry to interrupt, my Jarl,” Brynjolf took his place next to Adi once again, slinging an arm around her waist. “But that’s not an issue. Adi will be living with me.” 

“I am?” Adi looked up at the Nord, confused. Living together wasn’t something they had discussed quite yet, so his statement was quite a surprise.

“Only if you want to, lass,” he looked at her. When their eyes locked, Adi knew her answer right away. She would not turn him down when he had unadulterated love for her. 

“Of course I do,” she smiled. “That just caught me off guard.”

“Then it’s settled,” Jarl Laila pulled them back. “I officially bestow the title Thane of Riften on you.”

“Thank you.”

“I should be the one thanking you.” Jarl Laila shook her head. “You’ve solved more problems in the short time you’ve been here than anyone in my court has their entire careers. You’ve been a beacon of hope in these dark times for my people, and I will never forget it. Therefore, by my authority as Jarl, I pronounce you Thane of Riften and award you all the benefits befitting your station. Congratulations.” 

That comment made Maven sneer, and her eyes darken. That reaction alone caused Adi’s smile to grow. Not only was she receiving a Noble title, but Maven’s disgust towards the recognition Adi was getting made it worth accepting. 

“Your Housecarl, Iona, will meet you in Riftweald Manor. Please ensure you will have a room for her, should you choose to redecorate.” Jarl Laila dismissed the thieves. 

Hand-in-hand, they left Mistveil and made a beeline for Riftweald, Brynjolf handing Adi a key to their new home. Brynjolf told Adi that the process was easy. Anuriel had the paperwork in order and just needed him to sign it. He added Adi’s name right then and there. The Steward would hear about the Manor’s redesign by the end of the week. 

“My Thane, may I speak with you for a moment?” if it were any other voice, Adi would be baffled as to how word spread so quickly. However, Adi recognized it to be Maven. She was not keen on hearing what the Nord woman had to say to her. 

“I’ll meet you inside,” Adi told Bryn, squeezing his hand before approaching her mother. Brynjolf nodded and climbed up the ladder to the top floor entrance.

“What is it, Lady Maven?” she asked innocently. 

“I know who you are, and I’m aware you have found out who I am to you,” her tone was low, menacing. “If word of this were to spill to anyone other than yourself and Leo, I will not hesitate to remove you from this situation. We both know how quickly word spreads in this town.”

“Word spreads this quickly in any of the Hold’s towns,” Adi shrugged. “And I can assure you, the news I received before I left to end Mercer’s life isn’t one I’d be keen on anyone finding out, either. Besides, I know things about you that would tarnish your reputation even more than the town finding out you abandoned a baby almost 30 years ago. I suggest you back off and leave myself, Brynjolf, and the Guild alone; otherwise, your luck will run dry.” 

“I won’t give up that easily, dear daughter,” she smirked, knowing how much that word would irk Adi. “You’ve just threatened the wrong woman.”

“And so have you.” 

***

Six weeks later, Riftweald Manor looked completely different from the dump Mercer left it. All traps and triggers were gone, the bottom tunnels into the Ratway were blocked off, the top floor door lead to a closed-off balcony, and the ground entrances were usable. Given a well-deserved break from the Guild, Adi and Brynjolf focused fully on redesigning their home together. The final floor plan was approved by Iona and sent to Anuriel. Renovations took little time and made the space warm and welcoming. It was perfect. The thieves couldn’t be happier. 

After Adi and Brynjolf hung up their final decoration - a drawing made by Delvin of one of the Guild’s celebrations in the Flagon - they collapsed onto a loveseat, Brynjolf pulling Adi into his chest. “You think the place is ready for our friends tonight?”

“I think it’s perfect.” she looked up and kissed him deeply. The previous week, they had entered the Cistern and invited the Guild members to a small Housewarming party. Everything remotely fragile was thought about, in consideration of drunken thieves in one place, and Adi made sure they were either too high to reach or unmovable. Mostly both, if she was going, to be honest. 

“You’re perfect,” Brynjolf shifted, so Adi straddled him, tangling his fingers in her hair. He deepened the kiss, Adi reciprocating with no hesitation, and moved to start removing her civilian clothes when a loud knock sounded at their front door. “You’d think that we wouldn’t get interrupted as much being away from the Cistern, but alas, I was wrong.” 

“I’m sure it’s just the courier or something,” Adi laughed. She kissed him again, then headed to their front door and met with Nazir. 

“Congratulations on the new place, Adranelle,” Nazir gave her a curt nod and handed her a bottle of Mead - packaged as a gift.

“Thank you, Nazir,” she took the mead and invited him in. “You do know the housewarming party isn’t until later, right?” 

“Yes, but I came early because I have… some unpleasant news.” 

“What is it?” Adi set the mead on a shelf, then turned the assassin. 

“The Night Mother informed me of a new… complicated contract.”

“One that only I can handle? What are the details.” 

“It involves you, yes,” Nazir hesitated. He wished not to ruin her day, but this was not something that could wait. “But not in the way that you think.” 

“Nazir, spit it out.”

“Someone wants you dead.” 

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🦇 Cleat Cute Book Review 🦇

❝ Calling Phoebe loud and obnoxious and gay ignores all her layers and contradictions. That's Grace's issue with fame—people take you at face value. Nobody bothers to look for the person beneath the brand. ❞

❓ #QOTD What's your favorite sport (to watch or play)? ❓ 🦇 Phoebe Matthews is ready to take her first season as a professional soccer player by storm. She even gets to play alongside her idol, Grace Henderson; the veteran star of the US Women's National Team. Since they met, there's been a spark of chemistry between them, and Phoebe can't help but flirt with and seduce the woman she's had a poster of since childhood. Though they're on the same page on the pitch, a little miscommunication outside of the game leaves them both mentally spiraling. Are they brave enough to make a move both on and off the field?

[ Find my full review below or on: Insta | Goodreads | Storygraph ]

💜 The few factors that drove me to finish reading this book were the focus on fame, personal identity, and neurodiversity; NOT the relationship between Grace and Phoebe. The story touches on Grace's preference not to reveal too much about who she is outside of soccer, in an effort to protect her privacy, until soccer becomes her entire identity; both to the outside world, and herself. From the beginning, it's also obvious that both MCs are neurodivergent. Phoebe is diagnosed with ADHD by the epilogue, and though Grace isn't diagnosed with autism, it's mentioned as a possibility. Though their neurodiversity is obvious from the first two chapters, the topic isn't discussed in any way that MATTERS to the story. There's so much going on under the surface of these characters that would have made the story BEAUTIFULLY important if they were the focus, rather than a subtle plot point that's slipped into the end of the book.

🦇 I almost DNF this book many, many times; it takes a one-star read for me to give up on a book, rather than give it the benefit of the doubt. Though I did finish it, I dragged my feet every step of the way. The most obvious issue with this novel is the POV. A third-person objective point of view is cold and distant. It leaves readers disconnected from the characters and the story. Though it's not confirmed by the end of the story, it's possible Grace has autism, in which case, this POV makes sense for her. For Phoebe, however—passionate, energetic, a thousand thoughts a second Phoebe—we're cut off from what she's really feeling. Beyond that, this POV is choppy, ESPECIALLY for a story that primarily involves women. Unfortunately, the objective POV means the entire story is TELL; we're not shown through actions or imagery or any form of creative writing. The tension between them doesn't last long enough to keep readers enthralled, either; once the smut is introduced, that's apparently all that matters.

⚽ Every other sentence starts with a name to avoid referring to too many "she's" within a single thought. The writing also lacks descriptive language, even though the story is set in vibrant New Orleans. For all the scenes focused on food, we never smell, taste, or experience a moment with the characters. Even during gameplay, there's no sweat, heat, or the sound of screaming fans in our ears. The readers are kept at arm's length at all times. Perhaps worse: the smut reads like fanfiction—a first-time writer's fanfiction. Instead of steamy, the word choice makes it awkward and offputting. "Baby girl?" Really?

🦇 Recommended for fans of workplace romances, Ted Lasso, or A League of Their Own. You're going to get serious "Ted Lasso but make it sapphic" vibes from this, I promise; Phoebe and Grace are very much Jamie and Roy. If you're in your sporty romance era, give this a try!

✨ The Vibes ✨ ⚽ WLW Romance ⚽ Neurodiversity / ADHD and Autism Rep ⚽ Sports Romance ⚽ Secret Dating ⚽ Workplace Romance ⚽ Miscommunication ⚽ Grumpy vs Sunshine

🦇 Major thanks to the author and publisher for providing an ARC of this book via Netgalley. 🥰 This does not affect my opinion regarding the book. #CleatCute #NetGalley #MerylWilsner

[cryptidsurveys]

Wednesday, October 16th, 2024.

What’s your best tip on being a better listener? Do you consider yourself to be a good listener? I don't have any genuine tips because I'm kind of a terrible listener. I'm often either thinking about what I want to say, or fumbling to come up with an appropriate response. The former is more related to people I know well (ie. hurry up and finish your thought so I can contribute mine), whereas the latter is more related to people with whom I'm not as comfortable (ie. you caught me off-guard and I'm struggling to formulate a sentence that doesn't sound stupid). The obvious advice is to slow down and don't worry so much about saying anything in particular - because if you're actually listening and taking in what the other person has to say, then chances are a response will come naturally and you won't have to dedicate half of your brain power to rehearsing something that merely "sounds good."

What’s something you do less and less as you’ve gotten older? Delight in the magic of existence. I was such an imaginative and whimsical child, but I feel like I've lost a lot of that spark as I've gotten older. Childhood had such a dreamlike and mysterious quality to it, but adulthood feels so solid and certain. I do try to revive that energy and immerse myself in small, beautiful moments, but it's just not the same. Maybe my problem here is similar to my listening problem above. I'm so busy trying to force things to feel magical or wondering why they don't that I miss out on what made those moments magical in the first place. Experience and enjoyment without overthinking.

Do you believe in your intuition or logic more, and why? My intuition is a piece of shit. Of course, if it's screaming at me to not go down some dark alley, then I'm going to listen. But if it's whispering that so-and-so doesn't like me, then so what? Is giving in to speculation and acting "accordingly" going to accomplish anything? Absolutely not. It's going to send me down a negativity spiral that can only end in disaster. I have to rely on what little logic I have.

When was the last time you acted irrationally? What happened? A few weeks ago, when I thought I was going to be fired from volunteering over the Alex situation. It wasn't even close to that serious. This is why I can't rely on emotion or intuition - they will almost invariably lead me astray.

Are you scared of being lonely? I've spent a lot of my life feeling lonely, so while it isn't a nice feeling, it doesn't scare me. I'm much more afraid of being truly alone and incapable of functioning independently. There's feeling alone in a crowded room and then there's having no one to call when your whole life is crashing down.

Do you often feel jealous? If so, why? Yeah (or envious, resentful, etc). I'm somewhat better at reasoning with myself and refraining from acting on those emotions, but they're still there.

How do you react to criticism? It really depends on how the criticism is delivered and what it's targeting. It can be anywhere from no big deal to soul crushing.

What has made you laugh out loud in the last week? Joking around with River, Kristen, and Natasha. I nearly puked because I was laughing so hard. It feels good. I haven't laughed this much in years.

What gift have you gotten in the last year that brings joy to your life? It brings joy with a whole lot of guilt because I'm not the reader I once was, but my mom gifted me all of the James Harriet books for Christmas last year. I'm only part of the way through the first one and I feel inclined to lie whenever she asks because I don't want her to think I don't appreciate the gift. I do, I really do, I'm just in a horrible reading slump and I don't know how to get myself out of it. I thought I was doing better when I was getting into Sci-Fi novels, but that trailed off after just a few books, so…hmph.

What is something you’ve learned in the past week? My therapist asked me earlier if I'd had any "aha moments" recently, and yes, I have! I went into one of them on a recent survey. Basically, bad things aren't necessarily some sort of karmic punishment. Sure, there is an element of cause and effect in life, but you can be the best person in the whole world and bad things will still happen to you. Some things are simply inescapable, but they aren't your fault. You didn't bring them upon yourself. Which leads into the second realization. You can stew on those bad things for as long as you want, you can spend eternity in self-righteous indignation and resentment, or you can practice understanding and compassion and set yourself free from that self-imposed hell. Sometimes negative emotions are natural and expected, but they shouldn't be indulged to the extent that they consume you. It might not be satisfying in the moment (especially when all I want to do is literally or figuratively kick and scream - like with the recent family drama), but it's much more satisfying in the long run to look back and realize how much I was able to learn and overcome.

What are some things you have now that you didn’t have five years ago?

The ability to drive.

The ability to volunteer 30+ hours a week.

A relationship with my mom. I always say it's complicated, but it's positive enough to be worthwhile.

A much deeper understanding of my mental illness and how to cope in helpful and productive ways.

A better handle on my eating disorder. I still struggle to an extent, but I don't think an outsider would ever guess.

A small social circle of people who appreciate my presence.

Basically, I feel like I have the beginnings of a life that I once believed was impossible, maybe even a future worth looking forward to.

What is a quality you have that you consider negative? Now what is something positive that comes out of that quality? People-pleasing mixed with FOMO. "If I'm not there, if I don't do this, then I'll miss out, people won't like me as much, and I'll fade back into obscurity." Along with a determination to improve my life and push myself out of my comfort zone (good qualities), it's helped me get where I am today. I would like to ease up on the people pleasing tendencies because they definitely have their drawbacks, but I can't say that absolutely nothing good has come from them.

What is a small win that you accomplished in the past 24 hours? I drove to therapy, even though certain merges make me anxious. Nobody honked, nobody died. ;D

Describe a small, everyday thing that you enjoy with a special person in your life. Evening chats with my dad. We talk randomly throughout the day, of course, but in the evenings we really sit down and TALK. Not about anything in particular, often about nothing much, but it's just nice to have that time set aside.

Look around the room you’re in and list 10 things you’re grateful for. My kitties. Computer. Phone. Drawing tablet. Migraine medicine. Bed. Clothing. Books. Blankets (lots of blankets). Food (I'm currently eating a late lunch).

What is an emotion you try to avoid? Why are you afraid to feel it? Many of the emotions I've talked about throughout this survey. Jealousy, resentment, anger, misplaced fear, shame, etc. I'm not necessarily "afraid" to feel them. In fact, until relatively recently, I've felt them often and intensely. Still do sometimes. It's just that I've realized how much of a hindrance they can be, and I've found ways to combat them or lessen their impact on my life. It's also not about never feeling them; it's more about keeping them in proper check.

Are the people in your life bringing negative or positive energy? I'd say it's mostly positive. Some neutral. And a very small percentage of negligible negativity.

[conflictandscotchblog]

Life in the Form of a Question

There are certain things you expect to do in retirement, a check list if you will:

Start a new hobby – check

Finish the novel that has been in your desk for years – check

Get into a shouting match with a drunken asshole at the bar during trivia night – check

Each Monday night a group of us play trivia at a bar in Annandale (New Jersey). Its a big bar and a very friendly group of teams.

That is, it was until last Monday.

The trivia game is a simple process, each team has a small console where answer are input; questions flash on several TVs behind the bar. Three games, thirty questions each, pick the best response from five potential answers. Before each game there is a caveat: do not use cell phones and DO NOT SHOUT OUT ANSWERS (sorry for shouting).

Of course, the ‘don’t shout out answers’ is hard to enforce since drinking is involved. But its kept to a minimum. You may hear a stray answer from another table and, in fact, as a diversion our group may say an incorrect answer to throw off the other teams. But, as you say, we use our inside voices.

However, on this night, things got heated.

It started low key, a team at the bar was loud, as some teams are. As the night progressed, and I assume drinks consumed, they grew louder and louder. Towards the end of the last game, all decorum was tossed aside, and one player just shouted out answers, like he was shouting at the refs during a football game.

At this point in the game, from my seat at our table, I asked the man at the bar (well, yelled), “Excuse me, but can you please stop screaming out answers to the questions?”

He turned, and the shocked look on his face surprised me. As if what I asked was totally unexpected, that screaming in a bar is the most natural thing in the world (granted, some times, it is).

“What?”

I repeated, this time in a calmer voice, “Can you please stop shouting out answers to the questions. It’s jarring to hear you scream every time a new questions pops up.”

His companion, not sure if it was his wife, or friend, took a good two minutes to climb down off her bar stool and walked (sort of) over to us.

She apologized, and I accepted, then added if she could please get him to stop screaming at the TV. She told us they weren’t even playing the game, which means his actions perplexed me even more.

She went back to her seat at the bar, then heard him say, ‘bunch of guys bitchin’, playing for twenty dollars a game’ (it’s twenty-five-dollars a game, by the way).

I replied we were just trying to have fun but he cut me off and responded, “Hold on there, Karen, I wasn’t talking to you.”

Karen?

Mike from out table laughed and replied (extra loud), “Um, I don’t think he understand what a Karen is.”

The guy at the bar said he would quiet down, then added, “even though I know the answers.” Which, I assumed, was the point of his loud voice in the first place; everyone needed to know just how smart he was.

Finished the last game (which we won).

We sat at our table, a member from another team came up to us, gave me a hug, laughed and said, “You only won because Drew Carey gave you the answers.”

That was hysterical because the drunk asshole at the bar looked like Drew Carey with his gray hair and blacked rim glassed. He also looked like he just came from, or was going to, an ugly sweater contest.

Someone should have told him, lime green is never a good look.

After we paid the bill, I got up to leave and said, “If he follows me when I leave, come outside.”

The asshole at the bar was easily twice my size, but not in the ‘I go to the gym everyday’ way, but more like ‘I go to the bar every night’ way

Once again, Mike said, “If he does, I’ll be right behind you.”

It wasn’t that I was afraid of him…

...it was just I wanted a witness in case anything happened – one way or another.

Welcome to retirement.

Photo by: Sean Benesh

[ask-paradox-and-friends]

*in the middle of vhougt city homelander was admiring a shining golden statue of himself made in his honor after he got back from that mortal Kombat tournament and he was beaming with pride. Over the look of his new self image*

"Perfect. Just perfect! It brings a tear to my eye!"

*he then noticed a younger looking man who was sitting in front of the statue eating a handful of m&ms smiling at the rather easy day. No bad guys no bullies just a very simple day of getting little kitties out of trees and helping little old ladies across streets.*

*this man was Chibi Loveheart. Better known as Manysight he then saw Jhon land infront of him*

"Oh! Hi there! You the new hero?"

*he then turned around and looked back*

"You look like the statue. He your daddy?"

*Homelander growled unable to belive his ears because of this moron*

"Do...do you know who I am?"

*Chibi shook his head.*

*Which of course made him even madder as veins buldged in his neck.*

“listen asshole, this is my statue, MY statue, erected in MY greatness and you’re ruining the imagery so would you kindly FUCK OFF before someone has to clean your entrails off of it!”

*Chibi got up glad no child was nearby to hear this man as he looked him square in the eyes seeing the evil he was and said.*

"Don't. Say that. We have a duty as heros."

*Homelander got closer and jabbed his finger into his chest.*

"Worthless. Fucking. Nobody."

*oddly homelander was doing a good job keeping his tone down not noticing the smaller hero shoving him with enough force to send him crashing down the street tearing up the asphalt.*

"Bad hero. Bad. Go to timeout."

*pissed he was being treated like a toddler homelander blasted him in the face with his heat vision which sent the smaller Loveheart into a empty trash truck that thanks to the heat vision was melting and warping to entomb the smaller hero satisfied with his job he flew upwards only to hear a boom as chibis own heat vision tore through the truck showing he had a skintight supersuit that without a car that made him look like he came from a sci-fi novel.*

"Timeout's over."

*Homelander was baffled and annoyed as he yelled.*

"YOURE JUST A CHEAP AS HELL FUCKING KNOCK--OOOOOFFFF!"

*Chibi had slammed into him full force sending both of them skywards past the clouds homelander suprised someone could make him bleed he soon tried his heat vision only for chibi to grab his cape and spin him around.*

*as homelander tried again to laser him chibi threw him hard into Vought tower smashing him through several floors till he hit the bottem.*

"Huh. Mommy was right. Bullies can't fight back against bravery."

*As he turned to leave he got hit in the back hard by a plane wing then another thankfully the young hero had suffered worse thanks to his own powers but he wasn't sure what plane wings were doing up in the sky...*

*his question was answered by the planes body hitting him sending himself plummeting at high speed thankfully Chibi managed to stop the plane and got it safely on the ground after he was nearly dragged by it for a good few feet. Oddly he was polite enough to gently fly himself carrying rhe plane over to put it neatly in an airport.*

"There. All safe."

*he was then heat visioned through the plane and into the ground.*

*Dropping his wallet Homelander got a good look at the Loveheart family and saw a rather...good looking doll like mother and a few nice looking girls but he saw the pin on the mom and rolled his eyes.*

"Oh one of these Tranny fa--"

*he didn't get to finish his sentence before his neck was gripped by chibi who looked at him with his face burning red with for once murderous fury not heat vision*

"Don't. Insult. My. Mommy."

*he then chucked homelander across the contrary hard enough he made a sonic boom and his costume was tearing from the Mach cone.*

*As homelander flew back with a loud yell of enraged screams he slammed into chibi as he almost lasered several people only for Chibi to punch him square in the face hard enough to break several teeth and his nose.*

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? YOUD KILL THEM!"

*Hearing his opponent talk down to him he rolled his eyes.*

"Don’t talk to me as if these people matter, their goings on, their pathetic little lifes, just dust in the wind to someone like me, I could kill every single one of them here and now and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop me, in fact I might just do that and blame you afterwards, who’re the masses going to believe? Their greatest hero or some fucking braindead retard raised by fa-"

*once again cut off chibi flew through the sky smashing him through several billboards that promoted vought products as he roared loudly*

"DONT BULLY MY FAMILY!!!"

*not noticing his suits decals were turning red with his eyes turning an electrical purple homelander saw this and growled he really is a knockoff trying one last tike to heat vision him off his chest only to get punched for good effort slamming into his statue with enough force it started to crack thanks to homelander having it reinforced. Chibi then had the suits function shown with his eyes swapping powers at random his suit automatically changed to use another vision power that would complimented it. Red being heat vision while his own purple eyes was disintegration.*

*with one last roar of*

"I HATE BULLIES! I HATE YOU!"

*he fired the dual blast hoping to keep him down somehow not hearing homelander yell out 'FUCK YOU!' As loud as he could with his limbs being destroyed and his skin with flesh being melted into slog somehow he didn't die until his almost melted statue started sinking him in like boiling quicksand and the head landed on his half caved in skull while all of him sunk more and more into the melted monument to his hedonism.*

*chibi finally stopped when he heard screams as he had somehow during his laser barrage blasted the vought incorporate building into peices panicking he rushed to save everyone and started cleaning debris when he was done he didn't see homelander thinking he ran away like a scared bully with his tail between his legs like a baby he smiled and floated upwards as he heard someone call for help! That being a sailor on a sinking sea liner!*

"Don't worry! I'm coming mister sailor!"

*and away he goes to save the day!*

WINNER CHIBI

Welp. To honor the homelander dlc in mortal kombat! Here.

Homelander vs Chibi Loveheart

Wait a second you're not superman.

Homelander info:

Height: 6 foot 3

Weight: 235lbs

Weapons: Bare Hands, Heat Vision, Sonic Scream

Strengths: Is the main villain of the Boys and strongest member of the Seven, Superhuman strength (Possesses strength far above a regular human, Can effortlessly punch through the human body, Casually pushed a locked and blocked door off of its hinges, Can smash through concrete and metal with ease, Can lift dozens of tons, Manages to push away when held down by Soldier Boy, Hughie and a Temp V boosted Billy Butcher), Superhuman durability (Possesses durability far above a regular human, Was unharmed by being crushed under a bus and several tons of concrete, Tanked hits from Soldier Boy, Hughie and a Temp V boosted Billy Butcher, No sold being in the epicentre of a chemical plant explosion, Is completely bulletproof), Hypersonic speeds (Possesses speed far above a regular human, Effortlessly outspeeds bullets and explosions, Can effortlessly break the sound barrier, Can fly faster than Boeing Airplanes), His Heat Vision is powerful enough to harm the likes of Maeve and Stormfront, Can scream loud enough to shatter glass and crack concrete, Has X-Ray vision, His sense of hearing is so strong he can hear from miles away.

Weaknesses: Despite being physically superhuman Homelander is extremely mentally weak and prone to violent outbursts and meltdowns when things don’t go his way, Possesses a massive god complex which can easily be used against him, Needs solid ground under him to lift great weights.

Chibi information (FYI I'm using a grown up Chibi)

Height:6 foot

Weight:200lbs

Weapons:Bare Hands, various visions, supersuit.

Strengths:as one of Dolly's many children hes a capable superhero and is physically the strongest of the children. Superhuman strength (Picked up a mountain once trying to find a secret hideout. Flew through an airship trying to stop it from crashing.) Superhuman durability (has been hit with pretty much everything a human can throw at him. Survived his own various eye powers reflected back at him considering most are lasers freeze rays petrifcation and vaporizeation. Yeah.) Hypersonic speed (constantly Flys fast enough to create sonic booms and Mach cones showing he can go Mach 5 at least.) His super suit allows him to use any eye power he's not using so he can help anyone else he wants. He's got every eye/vision power in the books. He can see through anyone's lies somehow can naturally tell if someone's good or bad. He's used to navigating the world without seeing where he's going.

Weaknesses:he's not the brightest. He's pretty gullable. He does things without subtly (ripped up a mountain cause he didn't know how to find a hidden base. He often forgets how strong he is and breaks things on accidentally.) He fights like a school yard child cause he hates fighting others because he's more of the save kittens and help school children kind of hero.

[sheep-from-rad]

SAGAU but they have taken control of your devices Warnings: I wrote ‘devices’ instead of just phones because some of us here use phones, tablets, and PCs to play the game. Crack-ish? Bulleted headcanon fic. Note: This gonna be the last fic until Wednesday (May 4) because I have exams. Don't worry, I have an Ayato enemies to lovers conceptualizing right now, a Zhongli series and a future series based on this fic. See you guys later! Masterlist

Setting the scene, the characters get self-aware because this is a SAGAU fic but instead of you getting isekai-d to Teyvat, learning that you are a creator and someone is there impersonating you, SAGAU characters are still inside your device and you are still a player. It all started when the traveler accidentally breaks a code that later causes everyone to be wide awake. From then on, they are able to converse with you from the screen. 

Later on the traveler learnt that he’s able to control the devices around it and so do the others. This is where chaos started.

Your alarm clock and its usual ringtone? It’s now under the control of the characters. One day you’ll wake up with Venti’s soft singing and lyre music, some days it’s Xiangling or Noelle  telling you to get up for a filling breakfast. Oh you don’t want to get up? Be prepared for Paimon screaming her tiny lungs at you for hours.

Characters like Keqing and Ganyu took it upon themselves to take care of your to-do list and day to day schedules. Ganyu is on the tasks telling you what needs to be finished and Keqing on the scheduling. If you have school/work you don’t have to worry about missing an assignment anymore.

 If you use your devices for business, Ningguang will present herself as some kind of business partner/assistant. She’ll give you business advice and might roast you for your unnecessary purchases.

If you have games on your phone, they are not your games anymore. That is Klee’s games or Itto if he’s bored. However if it’s Otome games, it’s now Jean’s (cause it’s canon that she likes romance novels).

Don’t worry if your phone suddenly started playing music, that’s just them immersing themself in your reality.

Zhongli, Kazuha, Chongyun and even Thoma will probably like the soft and mellow-y type of music like Sleeping at Last or even Clairo. I have a headcanon that  Zhongli will really like Sleeping at Last, especially the song ‘Saturn’.

//more under the cut because this one is longer than I anticipated//

Xinyan has an ever-growing rock and rock sub-genres playlist and the last time you look at it the playlist has already 1k+ tracks on it.

Venti, Barbara, Yun Jin and Kazuha (because he watches Yun Jin’s plays) bond over musicals and will probably ask you to watch musicals with them. 

Itto has one of those hype playlist and has his tongue scrambled because he recently came across rap music and wants to go around Teyvat with his gang to do those rap battles.

Since we are on the music part, I can just imagine someone playing music at random times.

Diluc was working at the tavern and then suddenly Two Feet’ started playing. His tavern employees came home with double pay because a lot of people came in to vibe with the music and drink their feelings. 

Thoma is cleaning around the estate dancing with a broom (and doing broom guitar) with Honeypie playing and Ayato could only tap his foot on the beat. 

Ganyu trying a catch a little sleep only to get startled because of a loud beat drop

Characters like the traveler having an intense battle or argument and then suddenly a meme music starts playing thus derailing them and their enemy mid battle.

Worse scenario: Traveler missing their sibling and then suddenly ‘I love you so’ by the Walters started playing and they started ugly sobbing that made Paimon panicked.

You play a sad song and then suddenly one of them just shows up at your home screen asking you if you’re okay <3

Once they discover Karaoke is a thing, they will be singing like there’s no tomorrow

Kaeya will probably tease Diluc to sing ‘Sway by Michael Buble’ because we all agree they sound alike. 

Because they have control of devices, they can also control things such as watching videos and oh video viewing and movie nights are now common occurrences.

Thoma, Xiangling and Noelle watched those aesthetic cooking videos and tried to replicate them in their own recipes.

Paimon watches food videos and often asks Xiangling to try cook it (most of the time Xiangling agrees but the ingredients just go off charts)

Albedo watches videos about education and recently he has been memorizing the periodic table of elements in his lab and thinking about the importance of Pi

Horror movie watching with Hu Tao is now a daily thing and please take her away from those jumpscare vids because she will just randomly play it for fun.

Cartoon binge watch with everyone who wants to join. Not gonna lie they’ll probably like Avatar: The Last Airbender, Steven Universe, and maybe even Gravity Falls. 

Video watching is moderated by you and the adults by the way so no worries

Language in Teyvat is no differ from language in our world, the only thing that separates the two is the alphabet. Albedo, the archons and the scholars of Teyvat such as Sucrose and Xingqiu made it their job to study and understand your language. They almost lose their minds when they learn that your world has 7,100 languages.

From learning the basics, they are now reading fictions of your world too. Books go to the Archons first and then later to the nations’ managements to see if they approve it to the public or not. 

On the crack-ish side of the lake… you have videos about them? They are those hot edits? Those are now blackmail materials owned by Kaeya and Childe. 

You write fanfics? Oh don’t worry! That Secret is safe as long as you give Yae Miko free reign in keeping them. 

Memes will haunt them for days. Zhongli is now constantly touching his head to see if his hair is still intact, Kaeya constantly doing the lip bite, Diluc still  having nightmares about his face photoshopped in Klee’s body and oh let’s not forget about Childe doing that meme face of him staring blankly.

They don't understand what boomer means but both Raiden and Zhongli are not safe from it 

Not gonna lie can I see traveller and Childe doing that 'I won't hesitate bitch' vine before they fight on Mondays.