#rave till you cry

[prentissluvr]

sorry won't cut it — sam and dean winchester

pairing : sam and dean winchester x gn!sibling!reader ➖⟢ genre : angst, hurt/comfort ➖⟢ cw : set in season 8 LOL, sam and dean are kind of/definitely assholes to reader, swearing, arguments, crying, use of kid, kiddo, honey, and sweetheart to refer to reader, only light editing ➖⟢ wc : 4K summary : you meet up with sam to discover that dean is back from purgatory, and both have been keeping secrets from you.

when sam answers your call, it comes as a relief. a surprise, but more than anything, a relief. it’s been two and a half months, almost on the dot, since he’s answered a call. usually it’s just one month. he has a single burner phone just for you, but it’s off half the time, and the other half he never answers.

you’ve grown used to his distance, to an extent. it still stings when your phone rings till voicemail sometimes, but you’ve just been too tired to argue with him, to ask him to comfort you, make him keep hashing through the pain of looking for dean and finding nothing but trouble. 

you want him to have the normalcy, the girl who loves him and makes him feel alright. you want to have faith that he’ll figure out how to factor you into it all eventually, but you still miss him, and you’re still lonely, so you keep calling, never getting angry or upset when he occasionally picks up. you just act like it’s normal, and you can tell he appreciates it, so you keep it up. in return, he asks you over sometimes, tells you each time how much amelia raves about you after you leave, hugs you tight before you go.

it’s been several months since he’s invited you over, and he doesn’t really talk about her anymore. you figure something must have happened, but you never push anything anymore with him.

this call is different. one, because he finally picks up. two, because he tells you to meet up with him, no explanation or normal talk about what you should bring for dinner. three, he asks you to meet at a random address in kansas.

he sighs deep, “just… get here as soon as you can. i’ll send you the location.” then he hangs up and it feels like the hunting life all over again.

⟢

it’s a seven hour drive, and you’re tired out of your mind, high-strung and worn out from leaving right after your shift at a diner full of sleezes who don’t tip enough. even though this whole thing is strange for the new, hunting-free sam, there’s relief coursing through you at the thought of seeing him, hoping he’ll let your tired feet carry you right into his arms. you pull into a driveway of sorts, no obvious entrance to the unremarkable building in front of you, but your years of hunting and meeting up with your brothers at strange places during strange hours after strange calls help you find the door. it's a bunker, one you've never seen before.

you were always a little bit more like sam, disillusioned to the hunter life and the way your father raised you. you weren’t a fighter like him, but you slipped away at eighteen to go to college and found somewhere near stanford so you’d be able to visit sam often. he loved that, always so glad that you got out too. but you were barely gone a year before dean came back to collect you and sam to look for your dad. you came easier than sam, less attached to your new place and always finding yourself missing dean.

that’s what you’d been doing this past year. missing dean, and painfully. so when you knock on the door, calling out, “it’s me, sammy,” you freeze when it opens several beats later.

because the person behind the door isn’t sam. but it is your older brother. just the one who’s been stuck in purgatory for the last year or so, the one you’ve endlessly searched for to no avail.

“dean?” your voice is small as his name slips from your mouth.

his eyes go soft, the way they rarely get, and the slight smile on his lips is half pained, half pure relief to see you after so long. “hey, kid.”

you launch yourself into his arms, and he catches you easy, right there in the doorway, and you have to fend off tears that you know wouldn’t put up so much of a fight if you weren’t so exhausted. but you were raised tough, and winchesters don’t cry all that often, at least not where someone else can see. so you swallow hard and tough it out, letting dean pull away from you and lead you inside. he moves through the house with a sort of ease he’d only have if he felt comfortable and safe there. this raises questions, along with the fact that he's here at all.

you’re speechless, but not for a lack of anything to say. endless questions stream through your mind, each one pushing to be asked, even more desperate to be answered.

but the only thing you can figure out how to say is “hello” to sam when he greets you in the living room. he pulls you into a hug, letting you linger for a moment before you know you have to ask all of the hard questions. something in his face is unreadable to you, which is rare when it comes to your brothers. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was a hint of guilt. that rings alarms in your mind, but you brush your nerves aside when dean takes a seat on the couch.

you relax a bit when you sink down next to him, curling into his side a little. it makes you feel a bit childish, but you need it after everything this past year. he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you a little closer. sam sits down across from the two of you and you heave a sigh, wondering where to start.

opening your mouth and forcing words out is like a crack in a dam. everything comes out slow at first, but that lasts mere seconds before the flood.

“how did you… dean, how did you get out? i mean, i tried– i tried everything,” your voice breaks at that word, the weight of it meaning something only you understand. you look at him, brows taught and you’re confused by the surprise on his face, as if he didn’t expect you to say such a thing.

“what do you mean, you tried everything?” he asks, voice suddenly gruff and severe. you recoil from his side to get a better look at him. you don’t miss the look he shoots sam. this is already departing from what you expected, which is probably exactly what you should have expected. it’s just that, when dean hugged you back and he was solid and real and alive, when he sat on the couch instead of a chair so you could sit next to him, you thought that maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to stay tucked safe into his side as they told you what happened, as they asked you to stay with them. 

“what do you mean?” you shoot back. “what, did you think i’d just kick back and call it someone else’s problem?”

“that’s what sam did. that’s what sam said you did.” his voice is accusatory and when you whirl to look at sam, utter bewilderment evident on your face, you can see him physically grimace. which means dean’s telling the truth.

“sam did what?” the question sounds like it’s targeted for dean, but you’re staring the younger down.

“listen, i– no, you know what, i’m not going to explain myself on this again. what do you mean you did everything, you said you were going to school?” sam looks irked and defeated all at once.

“that is completely beside the point, sam, you lied to me?” you ask incredulously, “but you’re not going to explain to me why? why you lied to me or why you apparently didn’t look for dean, i mean are you crazy?” dean’s hand on your shoulder prevents you from standing as your voice grows louder.

“listen, kid, sam and i, we’ve already hashed this out, okay? it’s uh– it’s fine, alright?” with the way he says the word “fine”, you know that it still bothers dean, so you can’t understand why he’d say so. “we’ve got things to discuss here,” dean tries to reason with you before sam can respond. he’s no peace maker, but a full blown fight between the two of you could have an ugly ending.

“things to discuss?” you repeat, in disbelief of the audacity. knowing them, that means they need something from you, which begs the question of why sam asked you over in the first place. you don’t even want to think about them having ulterior motives outside ofjust wanting to see you, so you brush it off angrily. “well, i’m glad to hear that you two have hashed it out, but i haven’t yet, so we can discuss whatever that is later.” you shrug off dean’s hand, trying to focus on the things you’re already angry about instead of asking the even bigger question nagging at you now. when the hell did dean get back that those two had time to hash out something that major? you turn your anger back to sam, thinking about what it was like when dean first disappeared. “you told me you looked. you told me you did all that you could, that you tried everything in your power. now dean’s telling me that you did jack shit?”

sam sighs heavily. “yes, okay. listen, i’m sorry i lied to you, alright? but i just wanted you to try and live your life for once. i figured if i told you i did everything i could, that, i don’t know, maybe you’d give up and try to move on? go to school, do something you love, have real friends, maybe find someone?” he throws his hands up in the air, a defeated gesture because he knows you don’t agree, while he still thinks he did the right thing.

you scoff, because, god, he really has no idea. arms crossed and face the kind of calm that says run to anyone on the other end of your anger, you nod in false understanding. “yeah, what good that did,” you say, your tone so sarcastic and dry that sam just clenches his jaw and dean’s face turns from concerned to full-blown worried. he wonders if he should ask what that means, because whatever it does, it’s certainly not “good.” 

but you pick up again after a moment of thick, dripping silence. “you know, sam, you have absolutely no idea how this past year really was for me. i’m not saying it was easy for you, because i know it wasn’t. though now i know you also skipped the trouble of looking for your stuck-in-purgatory-brother and really, actually lived that hunting-free life you wanted.” sam cringes at the venom in your voice. “all i’m saying is that just about nothing has been all, i don’t know, rainbows and butterflies like you think,” your voice is practically scathing, a tone so rare to both of your brothers that neither knows what to say, “and you know what, sam? it’s looking to me like i’d be a lot better off if you’d just decided to tell me the goddamn truth.”

sam says your name, tentative like he’s testing hot waters, “i thought you said things were going well. you said you liked school, that you were making friends there? just explain to me what you mean so we can figure this out.”

“figure it out,” you repeat under your breath, sticking your tongue against the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something too harsh. “sam, things were going well! they were!” now you’re feeling desperate to make him understand, “but that night you told me there was nothing else we could do, nothing else to try and that i should just do my best to move on? i couldn’t, sam, i couldn’t do that. there had to be something more we could do, so i gave up on the things you said you did and i went further. i let you think i was fine, that i was doing what you wanted for me because you always sounded so tired. you always sounded like one more thing on your plate would make the sweet little life you built with a girl and a dog come crashing down, so i made sure you wouldn’t have to worry about me.”

dean’s voice is uncharacteristically soft when he does his best to make his interruption gentle. he doesn’t want to upset you more, but you can hear the tension in his voice when he asks, “kiddo? what do you mean by you ‘went further?’”

suddenly you shrink in on yourself, your lower lip caught between your teeth and your eyes shining with fresh tears. “dean–,” your voice breaks before you can even say anything else. his hand is on your back, meant to be comforting, but it only makes you feel worse about it all. you know how much dean would hate the lengths you went to to try and get him back. “i can’t–” you shake your head, “i can’t right now, but maybe… maybe if you’d told me the truth, sam, if i’d just started by reading through all of bobby’s books like you said you did, things would have worked out differently.”

“well, maybe if you told me you were going to keep trying, i could have helped you!” sam fires back.

you let out a strangled, frustrated noise as you stand, unable to keep sitting down. “would you? really? because i really don’t think you would’ve! you were so focused on moving on from losing dean that you distanced yourself from me, too! you barely picked up, never called, only talked about dean in three word sentences to tell me a lie about how you tried and failed to find anything to help! maybe if you paid any attention to me, gave any indication that you wanted to help or see me or be a major part of life like i wanted of you, i would have opened up to you!” it makes you even more angry when your voice turns teary, “and for once, i wanted to try to be the one to take care of you two. i kept my secrets, i never let on how fucking lonely i was, just so you wouldn’t worry about me!” a stunned silence falls over you brothers, sam’s guilt beginning to overrun his natural response of anger, and dean making up for that fading anger with his own. your chest heaves with laboured breath as you stare sam down.

dean’s tone is icy as he breaks the silence, “sam, is that really how you treated them while i was gone?” 

sam exhales hard, ignoring dean in favor of looking at you, “i was just doing what i thought was the best for both of us. i didn’t know, okay, i’m sorry.”

“are you kidding me?” you exclaim, voice turning shrill and growing louder by the second, “people got hurt, on my account,” you have to force that part out through gritted teeth, “i got kicked out of school, and i spent three months running from hunters!” both sam and dean want to interrupt at that, but you keep going, your voice quieter now, but harsh and trembling, “but you were doing what you thought was best for both of us? try what was best for you. dean was gone, and i needed you, sammy, i needed you and the second you said you needed to get away, alone, i knew i didn’t have you.”

that shuts him up, has him deflating and his guilt taking over, and you can see it and you hate it. you almost wish he’d get angry instead because that means you can keep shouting at him to try and make him understand. but all you get are his clenched jaw, his sad eyes, and his guilty silence that tell you he knows he fucked up but he can’t figure out a way to make it better since sorry sure as hell won’t cut it.

it’s dean who cuts into the heavy silence again. “sam.” his name hangs in the air, weighed down with unspoken words. “we’ll talk about this later,” you guess is the message. you can feel how angry dean is without even looking at him. you know all he ever asked of sam if he was gone was to take care of you, and now dean knows he didn’t. then his attention is back on you. he says your name, clear and careful. “i’m gonna need you to tell me what you did, okay?”

you wipe at your face angrily as you whirl to face dean. trying to keep the ever present tears at bay, you tap right back into your anger. but it's more tired this time, less convincing with your voice taut from unshed tears begging to be released.

“all that, and that’s what you take away from this? really, dean? you’re gonna need to know what i did? i don’t need you to tell me to know that– that it was wrong and i don’t need you to make me feel any more shitty than i already do right now, okay?”

it’s his turn to wear a look of guilt on his face, but it only sits there for a flash before he keeps going. “kid, that’s not what i’m tryna’ do here, alright? i just wanna understand so i can keep us safe, yeah?” he puts his hands out in a peaceful motion, but something else unresolved floats back up into your focus.

“no. dean, no! because there’s something else here, something both of you have been avoiding this entire time!” there’s a sudden change in the air, like both of them are holding their breath, silently begging you won’t ask the question. “dean, how long have you been back?”

his hesitancy to answer tells you everything. “kid, listen, that’s not imp–”

“don’t you dare say it’s not important! did you hear anything i just said, dean? anything about how shit my life has been since you’ve been gone, how lonely i’ve been?”

“you’re right,” sam relents, forging on before dean can stop him, “he’s been back for three months now. it’s my fault we didn’t tell you. it’s all my fault, and believe me, i am so sorry.” you collapse into a chair with your head in your hands as he continues, “i know that does nothing to fix things, but i am sorry, and i promise i will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, kiddo. i’m all in now, and i did it all so this wouldn’t have to be your life, but you’re here now and we want more than anything to have you around, okay?” 

you lift your head up to stare at him. “three months.” your voice is dangerously quiet. “you two…” your tired mind can’t think of words strong enough, “drive me insane, you know that? dean, you just– you just went along with that and decided, let me guess, that it was best for me? because i was at school, living a normal life and away from the danger of this one? is that it? it’s best for me not to know my brother’s alive? because, you know, that reminds me of something. hm, maybe the time sam hid from us that he was alive for a year because he didn’t have his fucking soul? oh, yeah, it must be that.” you let out a short bark of laughter, but it and your voice are completely devoid of any humor. dean visibly recoils when you mention that. he’s thought of it, and still decided to keep you in the dark. “come on, dean, you know how that feels and you go and do it to me again? really?”

you’ve beat him too. “honey,” he sighs, “i’m sorry. we were wrong to do that to you, okay?”

finally, you think you might be out of things to say, to be hurt about. your voice is quiet and fragile now, and the dam holding back your tears is fractured in a million places, more than ready to break. “i missed you so much. both of you,” you whisper. you meant to make a scathing comment about how “sorry” and “we were wrong” don’t even begin to cover it, but you find that you’re not in complete control of the things coming out of your mouth. you’re just too goddamn tired. dean is crouching in front of you in an instant.

“i missed you, too, sweetheart. so much. i’m so sorry.” he takes it as a good sign that you let him place his hand on your knee. you want to flick it away, maybe shove him away too.

“and i was so, so lonely. i was so scared,” you sob out, wishing you didn’t have to cry when you got angry. “and i’m so mad that you two did this to me.”

“i know, kiddo, i know. i’m sorry.” gently, slowly, he tugs you towards him and into his arms and you slide onto the floor and cry into his chest, shaking and unable to say a thing. you want to tell him this doesn’t make it right, but dean hushes you gently when you try. “shhh, it’s okay, just let it out, alright? i got you. i got you,” he comforts. it’s true that this doesn’t make it right, but it’s almost all you need in that moment.

“sammy,” you choke out, still so angry with him, but wanting him near anyways, knowing that he’s too scared to come close to you after coming face to face with all of the things he did wrong. his hand is on your back a moment later, hesitant at first, then strong and soothing moments later when you blindly grab for the fabric of his flannel to keep him close.

“okay. okay, i’m here. i’m sorry. i’m here now, i promise,” he whispers, silently letting a few of his own guilty tears fall.

utterly exhausted, you stay slumped on the floor in dean's arms when your tears dry up. you can barely keep your eyes open and your breathing is soft and slow. 

“let’s get you to bed,” dean whispers, hoisting you all the way into his arms and up as he stands. “sam’ll grab you a glass of water.” you sigh an imperceptible sigh because you know that dean is still pissed at sam. rightfully so, you’re more than just pissed at both of them, but you’re too tired to care in this moment, and the last thing you want is for them to be angry at each other. that’s your job for when you wake up hours from now. 

dean sets you down in a foreign bed pulling the blankets over you, and sam is back moments later with the promised glass of water and tissues for your face. you curl up and tug at the covers slightly, eager to fall asleep.

“see you in the morning,” you mumble, effectively dismissing them with your voice hoarse from crying. you close your eyes before either of them can say a thing, but your words are also a whisper of the beginning of forgiveness. 

“goodnight, kiddo,” dean says, his voice full of a familiar affection that he only uses for his little siblings as he presses a kiss to your hairline, before disappearing out the door.

you drowsily register the sound of sam setting the glass of water on the night stand by your head. “i’m right across the hallway if you need anything.” a moment, then, “goodnight,” and a gentle hand on the side of your head before a kiss to your temple.

you fall asleep coming up with a list of petty ways you’ll have them make things up to you. neither sam nor dean will be pleased to hear that you’re calling shotgun in the impala for the next three months, minimum. sam for obvious reasons, and dean because he’ll know that means you’ll be taking your job as youngest sibling to annoy the living hell out of him very seriously.

[ellieswyfe]

Hood eren tales PT 2

(hood #eren) being ur man ur mann 😜🫶🏾

warnings: oral (m received), fingering, daddy kink, i dunnoo what else this is just pure porn 😭 (MDNII!!)

mood song (GO STREAM DELI 🤍icespicee)

hood eren who even though he spoils you, does not put up with a bad attitude. every time you're mad or upset it puts him ina funk and he just doesn't like it.

hood eren who regardless of your attitude, takes you to your favorite mall with your friends on the weekend, hoping you were just having a shitty week.

hood eren who once more spoils you and your friends, taking you out for hibachi and letting you spend your time hanging around the mall, but he soon regrets this decision when you stop infront of your FAV designer store.

hood eren who makes A LOT of money from selling and has bought you plenty of designer in the past, calmly watches as you and your friends go into the store and end up absolutely RAVING over a pink handbag (https://t.ly/handbag) with the company logo embroidered all over it.

hood eren who as your friends explore the store, watches as you stay by his side begging for him to buy you the bag. (so you can brag later)

hood eren who refuses to buy you the new louie bag, after a week of giving him major side eye and sucking your teeth. he says he doesn't think you deserve it cause of that "nasty ass attitude." "no princess, i'll buy you the bag when you learn some manners." or "daddy said not right now chill."

hood eren who notices how you talk about him to your friends while waking off. he knew that your spoildness got bad but not THIS bad. he’s quick to drive your friends home so he can deal with that attitude.

hood eren who when you get home, comforts you when your eyes get watery and you start with the sniffles but stands strong on his words. "c'mere." he motions you over so he can pick you up and start rubbing you down. he knows just exactly what you need.

hood eren who lets his baby suck him off as an apology. when he pulls it out the tip hits his belly already angry, flushed red, and leaking pre. he lets you start off slow. sucking the tip and kissing his down his shaft. but when he realizes you're stalling, he works his length down your throat admiring your cute whines and occasional gags.

hood eren who throws his head back and moans as you suck the absolute soul outta him “oooh b-baby fuuuuck”, pulling your head down as he thrusts his length into your mouth causing tears to form in your eyes.

hood eren who spurts ropes of cum down ur throat as he finishes in your mouth. then after, pulls you up to kiss you, still tasting the nutty, salty taste of his cum in your mouth, which instantly gets him hard again.(how romantic)

hood eren who pulls off your shorts and slowly peels back your panties to reveal your puffy pussy lips and hard clit. he's so smooth with his work, placing you on the bed and letting you ramble on, that you don't even notice till he eases one of his long thick fingers in your pussy.

hood eren who fingers that creamy pussy enough to have you gushing but not cum. “renn baby please lemme cummm,” you moan out fully resting your body against his chest as his nimble fingers work on pleasuring you. “aht aht ma whats my name? thought it was fuck me?” and “keep them legs open or you wont be cumming atall”

hood eren who shoves his length in your pussy and sets a brutal pace. “ooh pa slow downn i said im sorryy,” you cry. clapping, smacking, and wet sounds echo off the walls and your pretty sure your neighbors hate you by now. “you gone be a good girl nd stop acting up?” eren questions, “yess- daddy i swear i will…” you moan, juices running down your legs and half brain dead now.

hood eren who knows your lying (your definitely gonna up again) but enjoys putting his pretty girl in her place even if she ends up getting what she wants anyways…

hood eren who after he's done tearing up that pussy, buys the special edition louie bag you wanted (it was in his cart the whole time)

______________________________________________

this is my first time writing a semi full smut!? so proud of myself 🥲

LMK FOR A PRT 3…shld i do a few on connie?? 🤭

[miguel-ohara-wifey]

okay hear me out… headcanons for spiderverse men that’s like how they act when their s/o is pregnant

I know I said I’d focus on my cowboy!Miguel fic but I’ve been waiting for this request! Ask and ye shall receive

Spiderverse men when there s/o is pregnant headcanons

Tag list: @alliwriteistrash I figured you’d like this

Rating: 18+, hurt/comfort, fluff, Angst

Peter B Parker

-Peter and you have tried at a baby for ages, but stopped before hand because some new threat emerged for Spider-Man, career opportunities you had to make priority, or some financial problems came up. Overall it hasn’t been ideal timing whenever you two wanted to try.

-Your body had other plans however, after a few days in a row of getting sick in the morning. Food tasting weird and having a sickly feeling in your stomach. You had to take a pregnancy test just to ease your anxiety. Unfortunately it didn’t, it was positive. Your body immediately starts to shake, you throw up for an entirely different reason.

-the twitching under your skin from fear stopped when you threw up. But your mind was still fraught with catastrophizing thoughts. What if you need an abortion, what if Peter doesn’t want the kid anymore, how would you play this when he gets home? Is Spider-Man even meant to have a child?

-You knew you couldn’t hide it from him in good conscience, when Peter arrives at your home with the groceries like he promised. Joking about the latest villain of the week he took down. You can’t help but start sobbing right when you spot his brown eyes. Not even knowing why, when he huddled you gently. Wiping your tears away asking what’s wrong. You relent how you took a pregnancy test and it’s positive.

-Before your knee jerk apology can be made he embraces you, conscious of your stomach in the tightening of his body around yours. He whispers how great that is, all your fears laid dead before you. But you still kept crying, expect out of pure joy. Peter meet you eye too eye, clearly joining in on the sob parade.

“You’re gonna make a daddy honey…I can’t wait.”

Miguel O’Hara

-You knew it wouldn’t be pretty when you told Miguel you were pregnant. Especially because you were going to have the baby. Miguel was furious, you two have been casual for a long time. You knew of Miguel’s past with Gabriella, not like he makes an effort to hid it. For fucks sake initiates get the holographic slide show of his trauma.

-Miguel isn’t characteristically raving and violent in this rage, not like you’ve ever felt unsafe around him. However you’ve seen enough of his anger to know it burns hot. But this was the cutting chill of dry ice, he plainly told you he’s not going to be the kids father. If you want the kid, you’re on your own. You sob and scream at him how he’s an asshole.

-He doesn’t exactly argue against that point, in fact he doesn’t argue at all. Just nods and leaves as you sob in defeat. You knew this would happen, he’d break your heart in the end. Yet the smallest speck from the deepest crevice of your mind believed otherwise. Cause you want him close. Miguel would always assure complete low commitment and non-existent emotional entanglement when you two started dating. Work is his true love and he wouldn’t dare let you compete.

-The day after, you slept in till the afternoon. Not even wanting to make yourself breakfast even if it meant silencing the gargling of your stomach. You hear a knock at the door. You figure it’s a package that got sent to you by accident. So no matter how terrible you feel you get out of bed. Opening the door, you see Miguel with your favorite breakfast meal from Panera.

-You angrily squint at him asking if he thinks this’ll make up for ditching you. He says it doesn’t, his eyes reddened from crying. He just says he knows you probably haven’t had any food yet today because of your argument. But he is sorry, he’s going to be there for you and the baby. He was a fucking asshole, your entire relationship. He loves you and never wanted to admit it. For what it’s worth he’s here for whenever or however long you’d have him.

“It’s okay if you’re still mad at me…but I know you’re craving this so just have some food.”

Hobie Brown

-This was a shock to both of you, you’ve always been safe despite all the kinkiness you get into. You’ve always had protection upon protection on top of taking regular std tests.

-Despite this shockwave through Hobie and your lives, the moment you tell him you want to keep it. He’s on board, he gets a head start on baby proofing the apartment. Engineering makeshift baby monitors and safe toys for the baby to play with. He starts reading parenting books and setting up the baby’s room in his off time. Making the room a vibrant red, doesn’t matter if the baby’s a boy or a girl. You’re gonna raise them to be a punk.

-Also watches after you carefully. Even when it means leaving his station as Spider-Man for a day. You and the precious future you’re carrying matters even more to him. He’ll be sure to get everything you crave. Even if he has to teach himself how to make sponge cake. If that’s what his baby mama wants it’s what his baby mama gets. He didn’t exactly get it, but you appreciated the sentiment regardless.

-Unfortunately now truly the worst of your pregnancy signs present themselves. You throw up almost every other morning, your favorite foods now don’t taste like anything cause your tastebuds have turned against you. And you’re fatigued easily so you have to take a few weeks off helping the movement. On top of the fact you always feel heavier and heavier as every day goes by.

-When your mood swings are at there highest to boot, you find an excuse to yell at him at any point. So he knows it’s best to leave the house for a couple of hours for you to cool off. Not to dismiss your feelings, but knowing his presence only exasperates your rage spike. So when he comes back with store bought sponge cake for you. You sob and apologize for getting mad at him. He takes it in stride, he knows this road will be bumpy as everything else is. But you’re in it together.

“It’s alright love, and don’t worry I won’t torture you with my sponge cake I bought you some…”

Spider-Man Noir

-Once you ask your darling to open the oven to take out what you were making. He saw a single bun on the rack, right after asking why there’s a bun in the oven. A second later he puts two and two together. He rushes over to you, via sliding on his knees against the wooden kitchen floors to your stomach.

-He sends pecks all over your gut while massaging it with his head. Almost already trying to hear your baby, his baby. Whispering as if your future child can hear you through its very tiny molecules. You giggle at this man’s infatuation with your stomach. Sure he’s always loved every part of you. But now he has two angels in his life.

-He unleashes all the parenting books he stocked up for just in case he’d ever be a dad. As well as makes you promise to quit work in a week to focus on yourself. He begins doing most of the chores you did around the house. Doting on you head to toe, not that you’re going to stop him. Especially when your mood swings begin to hit. You become extra clingy and needy.

-But his heart breaks when you say you’re sorry for not being as pretty anymore now that you’re starting to show. He’s devastated, he thinks you’re even more gorgeous now. The fact you’re carrying your soon to be family. His whole world, how could he not find you all the more irresistible? He corrects such by going down on you that night. “Having sex with a pregnant woman makes the baby a pervert later in life” be damned. You must know how much he can’t get enough of you.

-After such he cuddles you into him like he always does, his stringy brown locks mixed with sweat. As he can still taste your orgasm in his mouth. After you started to breath steadily again, you relent you believe him when he says he knows you’re the sexiest woman alive. He smiles so innocently despite the unholiness of the situation, he cloaks your body in a cool blanket. Kissing you on the cheek and telling you need sleep now.

“It’s never a labor to love you, and our family. Don’t forget that darlin…”

[cupids-chamber]

— I'M GONNA LOVE YOU, RIGHT TILL' YOU HATE ME GENDER NEUTRAL READER 

IMAGINE: Yandere!Twst cast, dreaming of the MC, before they ended up Twst, and even though they searched for them, they couldn't quite find them... now that they've found them.. they can't seem to let you go.. how would they feel when they've learned that there are more competitors for your love.

A/N: I'm gonna call this the dreaming of you au! I have some plans for it.. I had to split this in part, because of tumblr's fucking word limit.

SAVANACLAW / HEARTSLABYUL / DIASOMNIA / OCTAVINELLE / SCARABIA + IGNIHYDE / POMEFIORE

He couldn’t recall when the dreams had first started, it was quite suffocating.. Looking back, he was tired of the same dream over and over again, yet it changed.. Slowly, he watched you growing up along with him, it was as if his dreams mirrored your own life.. And at one point, he believed that these vivid dreams held some meaning, there had to be a reason why he’d keep seeing the same person over and over again… At one point, he even started to believe that you were his.. Someone meant for him.. And as he grew older, he couldn’t help but search for you, wanting to validate his thoughts and imagination, which has gotten rather out of hand over the past few years. 

He didn’t even consider that others would have taken interest in you as well, ‘did they see you in their dreams as well?’.. The thought would have driven him wild, had he not been patient thus far, he might have truly lost himself then and there.. However, if he had waited this long, then it wouldn’t have been difficult to wait a bit longer.. After all.. He knew you a lot better than you know yourself.. He just needs you to realize.. That you’re his.. and he is yours…

YANDERE!VIL, Vil had a habit of striving for perfection, and had unfiltered anger and jealousy towards anyone who posed a threat towards his goals, yet he tried his best to control any rash ideas he’d have against anyone. Yet when you first appeared in his dreams, his nights and days became rather peaceful.. At least he’d have found a newfound patience then he had beforehand, he couldn’t help but enjoy and rave in the daydreams he’d have, that held your image. He never knew he could fall for someone in such a excessive manor, let alone for someone he didn’t even know was real, he tried his best searching for you, with all the resources he had in reach at the time, had he known beforehand you would have appeared and taken up the role of the Ramshackle’s perfect, in the same school he would attend in the future, he would have prepared accordingly.. However that didn’t mean he was disappointed in not being able to predict such a situation beforehand, on the contrary, he was quite pleased with the revelation that you were in fact a real person, and not a fabric of his imagination. However, with that he had come to face the harsh reality, that not only is he after you, but many others as well desired you.. Now, Vil would have to plan accordingly, on how these insolent beings should be dealt with, lest they come in between the plans he had for just the two of you..

YANDERE!ROOK, Rook had many dreams of you, you had consumed his mind, from when he first saw you appear in his dreams—He’d never approach you, admiring your beauty in all its glory, afar.. You were perfect, from the first day he heard your perfect voice.. To the day he saw you crying in his dreams.. The beautiful gaze you sent him, whenever you both would make eye contact in his dreams.. How your eyes would grow wide, pupils dilating as if to imitate some form of fear… it sent shivers of sheer anticipation through his veins… The way you’d squirm away.. At one point, he realized… Rook realized that he wasn’t dreaming about ‘you’, but was a part of your dreams… a part of you… You could tell.. He was watching from afar.. The fear was real…. But he could never meet you in person!.. All of this had to mean something, of course?... Years passed, and he continued observing you in these dreams, as if you were a wild animal on display for him.. Until he had finally met you in person.. At Night Raven College… ‘I wonder… how should I greet the little trickster..’

YANDERE!EPEL, There were days where Epel would grow tired working in the farm, laying down underneath his favorite apple tree.. He’d drift off to sleep, a quick nap—Just to catch a break… And then he’d see you.. He’d write you off as a random person in his dreams, approaching you gently.. But these dreams felt too real to be fake, he had full control of his body.. He could feel everything.. And you’d always appear while he was taking these small naps… Overtime he began falling for you.. In his dreams.. But you were oh so different in his dreams, then you were in reality.. Over time, Epel had started growing a more distraught version of you.. In his head.. And he started talking to you, in his head.. That little image of you he had created.. He wasn’t one to believe in fairytales… But you were his soulmate… Oh and when he saw you at Night Raven College.. Everything just confirmed it… 

© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[thebunniesgrim]

I'm getting way too much enjoyment watching how some of Helluva Boss fandom is raving over the popular current theory that stolas is going to die in the series.  

Because of the Oops episode and how the skull and cross bones in the smoke clock landed on Stolas and other stuff  

I.e.  

Having imp assasins in LooLoo Land 

Stella  

Striker  

His lullaby saying that when he’s gone Octavia will be ok and that today could be his last (I could go on a whole tangent about that lullaby it's so good)  

Western Energy  (that's it)

I'm not saying I want stolas to die but am I also saying it would be funny to watch the fandom go up in flames about it?  

Well call me Phineas and Ferb because

Yes  

yes I am 

You can stop reading here if you want. Under the cut I'm just rambling justifying why I think what I think. there are some jokes and lighthearted critiques, but you know... you have the option to look and give your own opinions  :)

I mean I have my grievances with him like I've said in my other post (shameless plug Warning I'm very illiterate in case you haven't noticed) but like I don’t wish death upon him I still like Stolas believe it or not   

lol.

In fact I hope stolas doesn’t die and mostly I don’t think stolas is going to die at all frankly. I highly dout the writers/viv/whoever is going to actually kill off stolas mostly because like any time stolas is in danger its so underminded like- ok LooLoo land is mostly a joke (good joke too I like the end where Stolas turns the imp guy into stone good pay off), Stella played for laughs beacues shes making the hit right in front stolas and it doesn’t get paid off till the next season which is fine the seasons are short, Western Energy he was fine like an episode later.  

If home boy cant be hospitalized for more than one episode he isn't dying  

Granted I will allow some leeway as we don’t know how much time has passed since Western Energy to Oops but it- I don’t think stab wounds and broken arms heal that fast regardless of that :/ if I'm being honest especially if it was a holy weapon just saying.  

Even if he did die that brings up a lot of questions like what happens to demons when they die? Are all demons immortal and can only die due to physical damage? are Asmodeus and Beelzebub going to outlive Fizz and Vortex if imps and hellhounds/other demons aren't immortal. Were the 7 deathly sins ever babies like everyone else? If demons are immortal and can live forever and the Ars Goitias can only be killed by angelic weapons that are hard to get, I'm assuming, why do, they need to have children or heirs? Why even have children at all? If angelic weapons can kill demons do demonic weapons exist and can they kill angels or other holy beings?   

All this and more on You Can't Answer These Questions at 8 

Lol  

anyways

but in all seriousness 

Here’s the real question  

If they did actually kill Stolas, will they bring him back?  

Riddle me this batman  

there's a very the very real outcome of them bringing stolas back through some magical demonic bs anyway so like it really won't matter. They're not going to have Stolas bite the dust permanently and if they are... respect honestly (the balls frankly).  

People will cry, I'll laugh because I'm heartless, he’ll be like resurrected or something, and everyone will be happy or mad idk.    

Like it's one thing for Millie to get hurt in the other episodes because there wasn’t a major plot point you know? (and she’s not important) There was no lingering scene on it with sad music. In when stolas got hurt it was this big thing and for him to just be like fine an episode later is like what? How are you going to have this big emotional climax with no emotional orgasm (sorry) afterwards. And like no I'm not letting this go what the heck? You had the whole fandom screeching about Blizto going to sloth just to do nothing with it and put a twist about Barbie and then also have stolas be perfectly fine and dandy the next episode afterwards. Are there no stakes in this show? Like I get that Helluva Boss wasn’t planned in the beginning but like come on... When Viv approves of the episodes does she look back at the other episodes? Is she even there? Is she ok? Is she and everyone else seeing a bigger picture that I'm not? Has she sat down and watched Helluva Boss from the very beginning and watched them from episode one to now? I mean really not just a once over to send it off to youtube I mean really took a good and hard look at the episodes? The way they mix episodic, and story is really messing with me I'm going to go back and watch all the episodes from the beginning just to make sure it’s not me.

I like how I said in my tangent about Hell fire (shameless plug part 2) I said I liked the new episode over all give or take some extremally small nitpicks yet here I am complaining :) guess I'm a liar   

soo yeah, I really don’t think they're going kill off their golden child, their best boy, their little botanist boo, their dopamine deficient dandy, their booboo bear, their uwu baby boi, their uke wukey cinnamon roll, their twinky little baby owl, their Boo thang, their stary eyed savant, their sad beige gay, their smoopy woopy do, their snoogum-boogums, their skidamarink a dink a dink skidamarink a doo, their-  

ok 

I'm done  

I'm so sorry   

[lapinlunaire-games]

Once more unto the boop, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our evil-booped dead. In peace there's nothing so becomes a booper As modest stillness and humility: But when the meow of war boops in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage; Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; Let pry through the portage of the head Like the boop-o-meter; let the brow o'erwhelm it As fearfully as doth a galled rock O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean. Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit To his full height. On, on, you noblest booper. Whose blood is fet from fathers of crab-rave! Fathers that, like so many Alexanders, Have in these parts from morn till even booped And sheathed their swords for lack of argument: Dishonour not your mothers; now attest That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you. Be copy now to men of grosser boop, And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman, Whose limbs were made in hellsite, show us here The mettle of your pasture; let us swear That you are worth your booping; which I doubt not; For there is none of you so super and evil, That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot: Follow your spirit, and upon this charge Cry 'God for fools, April, and Saint Boop!'

[bordysbae]

what if the reader likes to journal and shes been keeping a journal where she writes about her relationship with (guy of your choice) before they were like dating or something up until now and she gives it to them on their birthday and it’s all emotional and stuff.

“you kept those?!”

adam fantilli x reader

word count: 1k

sorry i couldn’t help myself but pick adam!! he’s too underrated ugh, but anyways this idea is so so so cute!

you and adam have been friends since before you can even remember. your moms were college roommates throughout all four years of university at michigan. so when they found out that you and your older brother drew, who’s the same age as luca, got into michigan, and that fantillis would be playing hockey there, everyone around you was ecstatic.

your feelings for adam began in the third grade, and you’re a freshman in college now. you guys began dating last year, and everyone was waiting for it to happen. you guys were clearly meant to be, according to both your families and friends, but nothing ever happened until now. of course you’ve had other boyfriends before and he’s had girlfriends, but deep down you always knew that he’ll forever be your first love.

when you starting having these ‘tingly feelings’ around him, as your 10 year old self described them, you decided to keep a diary. you would write in it every time you and adam had cute moments, and you still write in it sometimes. you’ve already filled up one whole diary, and you’re halfway done with another one, but being in college now, you don’t really have the time to write in it. so you thought, why not give the diaries to adam for his birthday?

written in the diaries are things like how once he cut you a slice of pie at the annual fantilli’s friends-giving, or even how you would get jealous that he was playing chel with your older brother instead of hanging with you. the first diary is from third grade to seventh grade, and the second one is eight grade till now.

—

you and adam drove about forty-five minutes to detroit, to eat at a fancy resturant everyone has been raving about. you’re sat at a candle lit table in a restaurant, with a view looking over the city, when the perfect moment comes up to give him the diaries.

“so as your birthday gift this year, i didn’t get you much, but i thought maybe you’d enjoy something a little more sentimental.” you say shyly, as you reach into your purse to grab the two old diaries.

adam let’s out a little chuckle, as he reaches across the table to grab them from you. “holy crap! you kept these?! i remember seeing these in your bedroom as a kid, you’d never let anyone touch them. i remember once me, luca, and drew tried to steal it from your room and you started screaming and hitting us” adam laughs, making you blush from embarrassment.

“yeah well you’ll see why when you open them.” you say, embarrassed that you’re letting him finally read all of the diary entries you’ve written about him over the years.

he cracks open the small book in his hands, and begins to attempt to understand your messy elementary school hand writing. he reads through a few pages and you both laugh about it, and he switched over to the other diary. he opens it to a random page, which happens to be from freshman year.

october 31st 2018

dear diary,

it’s halloween night, and this is the first year since fourth grade that we haven’t gone out together. me and adam swore to never stop trick or treating until we’re both old enough to drive, so that we can go to parties together, but looks like him and his new girlfriend have other plans. adam keeps sending me a bunch of snapchats of him at this stupid party with her head on his shoulder. it doesn’t help that luca and drew went out to a party too, so now i’m at home trying not to cry. i hate having a crush on adam, i never want to feel like this again.

adam looks up from the diary and gives you a small pitiful smile, making you hide your face in embarrassment, “i regret giving you these!” you groan and hide your face in your hands. he reaches across the table and takes your hand in his.

“don’t be embarrassed, i think these are super cute. they’re warming my heart. i can’t wait to read the rest of them, and if it makes you feel any better i had a crush on you during like half of these too. you think i really liked fiona that much? i remember i kept thinking how much i wanted to be trick or treating with you instead.” he blushes.

“you’re just saying that!” you laugh, unbelieving of what he’s saying.

“i’m dead serious! why else would i be sending you snaps you while i’m at a party. i really only dated her cause i was just tired of always getting chirped for not having a girlfriend, she she had a crush on me,” adam chuckles, making you giggle a little bit at the thought.

“i was always right there, y’know”

“i know that now, and boy do i wish i could go back in time and do it all differently. you don’t know how bad i wished i was the one who took you to homecoming freshman year. me and fiona weren’t even matching colors! oh and don’t even get me started on homecoming junior year. you went with one of my teammates, i was pissed!”

“well hey, you did take me to senior prom!” you chuckle a little, looking at your lockscreen photo of the two of you from last year.

“because we were dating then! that doesn’t count”

“yes it does adam! plus all of the stupid relationships we got into during high school just proves we were bound to be” you cheesily grin, making adam smile as well.

“yeah i guess so, but seriously if i could go back and change it all i would. i would’ve asked you out like, i dunno, five years ago!”

“oh sure, cause you definitely had the balls to do that. the real question is, wouldn’t our braces have gotten caught in each other?” you joke, remembering how ugly you both looked with braces five years ago. adam laughs, almost spitting out his water, making you and him both laugh even harder. you guys get a few stares from the older adults around you guys, but you both don’t care. you’re just enjoying the moments with the man you finally get to call yours.

[sunnylands-world]

The jealous to your possessiveness

Pairing: vampire draco x @b-bewley1979

Summary: you get jealous after a small party and accidentally trigger your possessive husband because of your jealousy and Draco fixes both those problems…

Word count:1,045

Warning: p in v with no protection, fingering, dirty talk, possessive Draco, bondage, use of magic, kinda Dom Draco, light face slapping, [reader has a name]

A/n: I was extremely busy but I promised I'd finish this for you today so hopefully you like it

Brandy pov

I huffed, slamming the door behind me. I can't believe he'd just let that girl sit in his lap like I wasn't right there! Who does he think he is? I went to the kitchen, deciding to start dinner. Time past quickly as I looked down seeing my clothes were filthy, as my hand stirred the ingredients with frustration. Draco finally got home coming through the window before transforming back to his human form in front of me. I ranted and raved under my breath as I turned my back. "Surely you're not still mad about that silly girl," Draco says, taking a few steps forward.

"I am not mad at the girl i-" "was jealous" he finished with a small chuckle. I turned with my eyebrow raised, placing the bowl down with force as I glared at him in his black suit. "Is that what you think?," I let out a dry laugh. "No, I was mad you allowed it to happen!, You have no power over me.” I turned away whispering, "you're not the only one who has people chasing them you know" but I knew Draco would hear, he had heightened senses. I could feel him glaring at me. He hums before saying “You sure about that?” Then all of a sudden I hear his whispers. My eyes blink open and I'm in our bed only now I can't move my hands.

I look up seeing them tied groaning. "brandy…" my head snaps towards the direction of his voice. "repeat what you said earlier and this time don't mumble it, you know how much I hate it when you do that" he comes from the shadows, his reddened eyes being what I spot first. I rack my brain looking for whatever I'd said before. My eyes widened and I looked away fearfully. "Ahh, so you remember!" He says walking over to the bed. "You told me you wouldn't use magic on my Draco! You can't-" "you are in no position to make decisions and clearly you have forgotten what I taught you! So I'll take this as the opportunity to remind you, I'll ask you one more time what did you say before" he growls, a chill runs up my spine at how quickly his tone changed.

"That-that you weren't the only one who had people chasing them" I Mumbled. "And who is chasing you my love? Because I promise, when I find out who it is I will kill them and bring their head back to you as a reminder" he warns, his hand squeezes my breasts till a hiss leaves me. "Who do you belong to?" His hand cupped between my thighs and I let out a whine trying to buck into his touch. "Who do you belong to brandy?!" He asked again, snatching his hand away. "you, you! Please please!" I begged. He hums in approval, letting his fingers sliding throw my folds sending a blissful tingle over my skin. "Knew you'd be wet for me, you always are, aren't you" he asks and I nod, a small uh huh leaving me.

He nods fingers driving in, causing me to yelp in surprise. He chuckles, cramming the two long digits inside at a steady pace. My hands lock tightly around the rope biting into my skin as my chest heavies with his thrust. "You're so good for me brandy, don't know why you worried about anyone taking your place. No one can ever replace you" he says kissing the skin of my neck, his fingers curl caressing my spot, my head falls back with a cry at the simulation. His fingers pull back tortuously as he sucks them clean. "Draco please!" I Whimper bucking my hips.

"I'm only taking my clothes off you needy little thing" he teased, removing his suit unnecessarily slow. He seemed to get off on my desperation. When he's finally done pulling away the dark suit, he moves between my legs, cock free, leaking into his hand. He strokes himself, making me smirk at the effect I have on him. He brings his tip to my entrance, rubbing through my slick before pushing the head in and pulling it out with a sigh before quickly shoving himself in awaking the burning ache inside me. I wrap my legs around him, pulling his lips against mine.

He groans, teeth latching onto me. His sharp fangs draw blood that fills my mouth with the iron taste. He moans, his tongue slipping past my lips tasting the red liquid, lapping at the cut on my skin. He pulls back, rutting into me at a brutal pace. My tied hands tugging as my back arches, my breath hitching with the moans I let out with his thrust as the bed rocks with my body.

His hands come to my breasts, pinch at my hardened nipples. "Draco!" My vision goes in and out with my twitching body. If he slammed any harder I was sure the bed would break. The feeling between my legs was twisted with a burning sensation and greed but I was bare at his mercy, clenching down on him being the only way to fully engulf him enough to fill the lustful desire to take him and not the other way around. "Come back to me brandy. Tell me what you want, don't make me read your mind" he says, slapping lightly at my cheek. The slight sting only makes me wonder farther as my eyes roll. "I need to- fuck!"

The words falling short as my skin prickles with the approaching of my finish. Draco chuckled darkly as he slams harder, provoking screams from me that fill our room with the sound. His head falls, lips sucking, nipping and biting at my neck as his hips start to slowly push me to my release. My fingers claw at the palm of my hand as the earth shatters, leaving me to float. "That's it brandy, come for me." He breathes out while I grip him tightly, causing his movements to falter. He plunges deeper as he cums, filling me full while whispering sweet nothings against my skin. His breath slows as my legs fall open from exhaustion. "don't ever doubt my love for you"

Request open 👐

Draco's lovers and requests:

@alexxavicry , @sarahthehuffpuff, @supercoffeeblogs , @thatwattpadobsessed , @kyracanwrite @animeloverfreak310 @imafangirl22 @amyclare04 @phildunphyisadilf @jac1ndaa

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

To The Shadows that Cry Witch - Masterlist

Hi! Welcome to the fic that started up my writing again! This is my biggest project, so I hope you love it just as much as I do! It's a bit long winded, so I'll try to make it worth the read! Enjoy!

Summary: Magic was real, but it came at a price. So when two girls from Earth ended up in the one place they never thought they could reach, strange things began to happen. Good or bad? That's up to them to find out.

So uhhhhh.. magic’s real. Middle earth’s real. Shit goes down. Bon appetite.

Tags: Kíli x oc/reader - Fíli x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company x ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - SUPER slow burn - crack

Warnings: Violence, swearing, graphic descriptions of injuries, character death (anything else I will add)

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

Go back to Tolkien Masterlist

To the Shadows that Cry Witch

Chapters will now be posted monthly between 5-10pm (UK time)!!

Purple text - release dates

Green text - Posted

Extras:

Behind the scenes notes (may or may not post)

Headcanons - Kíli x oc (to be written)

Headcanons - Fíli x oc (to be written)

Playlist - Part 1 (coming soon!)

To the Shadows that Cry Witch - Soundtrack Playlist

The Hobbit - Before it all began

Part 1 - The Journey to Middle Earth:

Prologue

Chapter I - Go on a road trip they said, it’ll be fun they said

Chapter II - I should’ve stayed in bed

Chapter III - Error: Friend not found

Chapter IV - Hey ghouls, the girls are here

Chapter V - Coping mechanisms my ass

Chapter VI - Ironically Alive

Chapter VII - This is why you don't socialise

Chapter VIII - How it feels to chew five gum

Chapter IX - The Teletubbies could never.

Chapter X - DIE. But first, food.

Part 2 - Settling into the Shire:

Chapter XI - Unfortunate Beginnings

Chapter XII - Not much has changed but there's no Wi-Fi now

Chapter XIII - Item: Suspicion

Chapter XIV - Thanks, I hate it

Chapter XV - Screaming

Chapter XVI - 'Time for a shopping spree!' They said, unemployed.

Chapter XVII - I am confusion

Chapter XVIII - Into the thick of it.

Chapter XIX - Beautiful new - BLOO - passport.

Chapter XX - Yer a wizard. Sorry, witch.

Chapter XXI - Interesting Concept. Poor Execution.

Chapter XXII - Rearranging furniture.

The Hobbit - An Unexpected Journey

Part 3 - O.D.R: Operation Dwarf Rave

Chapter XXIII - The Shaquille O’Neal of Improvisation.

Chapter XXIV - 30 Different Ways To Fuel Yourself Off Of False Hope.

Part 4 - The Journey Begins

Part 5 - Rivendell and the Misty Mountains

Part 6 - Deep beneath the surface

The Hobbit - The Desolation of Smaug

Part 7 - Of Bees and Bears

Part 8 - Jailbreak

Part 9 - On Thin Ice

Part 10 - To wake the Beast

The Hobbit - The Battle of the Five Armies

Part 11 - A downed dragon, is a dead dragon

Part 12 - Gold's Parasite

Part 13 - I will have war

Part 14 - The Ravens

Part 15 - Until the sky comes falling down

The Hobbit - The Aftermath

Part 16 - Amrâlimê

Part 17 - The Stones Whisper

Part 18 - A Proclamation

Part 19 - Calling all Witches and Wizards

Part 20 - Till all are one

Part 21 - The Calling

Enjoy! <3

[cinematicnomad]

the terror fitzier fic recs below the cut for @skylessnights

this far from heaven by 5runner5 (1/1 | 10k+ | Ex) fitzier; slow burn; missing scenes; masturbation; hurt/comfort; getting together

this man—this irritable drunk who apparently saw nothing of worth whatsoever in james—was a sad, far cry from the man he had imagined, when he’d first thrilled at reading the name crozier in dispatches.

forged in the ice by captaincrozier (28/28 | 97k+ | M) fitzier; canon divergence; fix-it (of sorts); secret relationship; canon typical violence

something was forged in that arctic ice, something crozier will carry with him always, something that gave him hope, and the strength to get home. it was love... but the moment of its existence was cruelly brief.... and what is he without it now? haunted by and faithful to its memory, he tries to carry on, but how does one continue when faced with its ghost, every day?

mirror, mirror by palpalou (2/2 | 26k+ | Ex) fitzier; canon divergence; sick fic; misunderstandings; getting together

in which francis flatters james back to health, without noticing how hard he's flirting, actually. [for the terror own language fest, english in chapter II]

sunset and evening star, and one clear call for me. by gwerfel, kt_fairy (19/19 | 85k+ | M) fitzier; past francis/sir james; canon divergence; post-canon fix it; slow burn

they came upon a furrow in the landscape, too shallow to be called anything but a scrape, and all stopped in their tracks. there were indeed men. a crowd of them, walking and talking or sprawled upon the ground, not raving or twitching or gurgling foul smelling blood. they were in appalling condition though, ross could tell even from this distance, but they were still men. a figure stepped towards ross' party, and he would recognize that damned hat and the way hands were tucked up high into greatcoat pockets anywhere. he scrambled with the harness, throwing it off and taking off in a stumbling, inelegant dash across the shingle. "ross!" he heard francis gasp just before he collided with him, holding his dear friend in an embrace that nearly sent them both crashing to the ground. OR ross arrives in time, wounds are still open, and the risky business of having survived is navigated. the arctic does not let you out of its grasp with a wave and a goodbye.

untitled (perfect lovers), 2019, mixed media, london by caravaggiosbrushes (8/8 | 70k+ | Ex) fitzier; au–modern setting; au–artists; enemies to lovers; self-inflicted wounds 

sometimes there is nothing pretty in art. when francis crozier, a conceptual artist with a long and successful career, is invited to the franklin art gallery to put up a solo exhibition of his artworks, the last thing he expects is to find james fitzjames, performer artist and Instagram phenomenon, there, ready to work with him.

penumbra by crafterofwords (23/23 | 84k+ | Ex) fitzier; francis/sophia; canon divergence; period typical homophobia; angst with a happy ending

captain francis rawdon moira crozier and commander james fitzjames, of the royal navy, have survived their harrowing experience in the frozen wasteland of the arctic circle. a safe return to london has been these men's only desire through the very long nights in the arctic, so it is with confusion and discouragement that they find their homecoming has left them wanting. haunted by the memories and knowledge of horrors beyond the scope of what most men can bear, will they be able to find happiness, despite being given all they thought they'd ever wanted?

till human voices wake us by ktula (1/1 | 14k+ | Ex) fitzier; canon divergence; flatmates; repression; trauma recovery; tenderness

“thank you for last night,” james says, because it’s easier to say that than it is to say what he’s actually thinking. “i wasn’t…you’re welcome,” francis says, his gaze going to the sideboard a moment before re-focusing on james. “did it help?” “yes,” james lies. the second batch of nightmares, after all, hadn’t been francis’ fault any more than the first ones had been.

when all the world shall melt by neverfaraway (8/8 | 49k+ | Ex) fitzier; canon divergence; somebody lives/not everyone dies; fix-it; pining 

i’ll not have a picture, he thinks, gazing grimly at james’ drawn, damaged face. i’ll not have a miniature to tuck inside my breast pocket, or a sketch made on a winter’s evening by the fireside. it will be my own burden to remember him, until such a time as this cursed land takes me, too. twenty five men return to england. for francis, this means making a poor job of keeping james from scuttling his career, and working out what a sea captain might do with himself in the absence of a ship.

de remedio amoris by crownlessliestheking (1/1 | 14k+ | Ex) fitzier; past/background francis/sir james; canon divergence; introspection; pining

francis has always been a grasping thing. covetous to the last, drenched in vice, and gripping tight to whoever—whatever—is closest, be it james ross or sophia or the the neck of a bottle. or all three. now, there is james fitzjames.

a moon-blanched land by wildcard_47 (10/10 | 44k+ | Ex) fitzier; canon divergence; sharing a bed; hurt/comfort; retirement; pining

almost a year after their return to england, francis crozier is tired of london society and tired of fighting an inexplicable restlessness. when given the chance to move to a seaside cottage with his former second, james fitzjames, how can he refuse?

so much spring by icicaille (1/1 | 17k+ | Ex) fitzier; canon divergence; emotional hurt/comfort; angst with a happy ending; pining 

in the half-year since their return, francis had become aloof, impassive, withdrawn. there was no logic to this strange metamorphosis. at greenhithe, francis had promised to look after him. had told james: come find me. yet francis had never been further out of reach. on a cold spring day in 1849, francis drops everything and flees london for his sister's farm in ireland. james, hurt and hungry for answers, gives chase.

what ice does by what_alchemy (4/4 | 44k+ | Ex) fitzier; canon divergence; internalized homophobia; sharing a room; slow burn

captain parry’s third arctic expedition takes a year longer to prepare than planned. it leaves in 1825 with ship’s boy james fitzjames aboard HMS hecla. master's mate francis crozier takes him under his wing. this changes everything.

a pair of finches in a brass cage by fiendlikequeen (1/1 | 5k+ | M) fitzier; unrequited francis/sir james; canon divergence; POV sir james; accidental voyeurism

james clark ross brought francis crozier back from the arctic, but he finds francis a changed man—perhaps the most striking change being francis's constant companion, james fitzjames. james discovers, only partly by accident, the true nature of the relationship between francis and fitzjames.

i'll describe the way i feel, weeping wounds that never heal by velocity_owl87 (8/8 | 26k+ | T)  fitzier; canon divergence; hurt/comfort; career ending injuries; recovery; introspection

by sheer blind luck ross manages to find the remaining members of the franklin expedition, many of whom are at death's door. one of these being commander fitzjames and the main concern of crozier, whom ross judges far changed in ways he can't begin to understand. he offers his friend and fitzjames a place to recover while francis faces both external conflicts and comes to realisations about his life, his ambitions...And the person he wants to have with him for the rest of his life. all the while fitzjames struggles with coming to terms with lingering injuries, the ordeal of being known, and the possibility of finally getting his heart's desire.

trafalgar, happier by fiendlikequeen (1/1 | 17k+ | Ex) fitzier; francis/sir james; canon divergence; jealousy; accidental voyeurism; angst with a happy ending

james fitzjames has decided that he is perfectly ambivalent about death— provided he may die with francis crozier by his side. but when james clark ross arrives with both a rescue party and competing affections for francis, things change.

the devils before us by masterofallimagination (6/6 | 42k+ | T)  fitzier; canon divergence; somebody lives/not everyone dies; slow burn; pining

after five years in the arctic, francis and james return to england and begin the long journey home.

starcross by reinetta (1/1 | 17k+ | Ex)  fitzier; au–historical; au–regency; misunderstandings; enemies to friends to lovers

“there is barely a ribbon or a feather or a scrap of silk left this side of exeter.” “no woman under thirty is left unmoved,” tom said, grinning around the stem of his pipe. “even our essie is taken up with the idea!” esther’s dark eyes were dancing in the firelight. “though she is far too young to think of marrying at present—least of all to mr. james fitzjames.”

sleeping felt like lies by the_ocean_weekender (2/2 | 41k+ | T) fitzier; canon divergence; flatmates; depression; angst with a happy ending

escaping the ice is more down to sheer dumb luck than any happenstance of sight, divine intervention, or the not-insignificant amount of skill their crews bring to the occasion, but they all get out alive (bar unfortunate souls sir john and cornelius hickey, whose deaths are viewed by many as, contrarily, rather fortunate.) now, in london, pressed by commander fitzjames to saving their navy half-pay by sharing rooms together, crozier is struggling to return to normality. it would help, he admits begrudgingly, if he could tell the difference between dreams blessed/cursed by the sight and just good old trauma-induced nightmares. and if he hadn’t started to develop feelings for the man who, even ridden with scurvy, still deserved the title ‘handsomest man in the royal navy’.

never seek him, defiantly, at night by veganthranduil (1/1 | 17k+ | M) fitzier; canon divergence; slow burn; bunkmates; recovery; pining; alcoholism 

“the loss of a ship is a small price to pay for the completion of the passage, wouldn’t you say?” james said, employing his best smile. make it look easy, make it look painless, and people would gladly follow you—he’d learnt that early on. “well i’d not thought to see it,” said sir john, looking between the two of them. “if both of you are of one mind, there must be some truth to it. very well.” he clapped his hands together. “francis, james, the two of you can figure out the logistics. i’ll inform the men after david young’s funeral service. begin preparations immediately.”

to be made whole again by 5runner5 (10/10 | 29k+ | Ex) fitzier; canon divergence; eating disorder; survivor guilt; recovery; nightmares

james bit into a laden slice of toast with the undamaged side of his mouth. “i thought we agreed that thinking was very dangerous,” he said, and though his voice was light francis could feel a weight behind it. it was a weight made up of sleepless nights and crying jags; of francis punching a solid wall and of james shouting himself hoarse; of the unbearable social calls and wrenching letters and pitying looks which they could not avoid. they carried a great many heavy things with them, now. london, 1848: francis and james try to put themselves back together.

each mortal thing by jouissant (6/6 | 26k+ | M) fitzier; canon divergence; friends to lovers; gender identity; the dress

truth is a concept with which james fitzjames has been variously acquainted.

pressure ridge by alitneroon (8/8 | 18k+ | Ex) fitzier; canon divergence; missing scenes; POV alternating; happy ending 

here, so far away from the world, it felt as though consequences didn’t exist. he’d already been through so much with the men, he almost imagined that they could know about this too and understand, that it wouldn’t matter. despite everything, the bleakness of the landscape and the food that was slowly killing them, francis managed to find a moment or two of happiness when he was with james.

SWIPE RIGHT (or: THE TINDER AU) by caravaggiosbrushes (2/2 | 29k+ | Ex) fitzier; au–modern setting; POV francis; falling in love; author james; fluff

francis is 51, single, almost two years sober. he has a nice job, a dog, and a tinder profile he doesn’t use that much. one night, he decides to give the app another try. the rest is, as they say, history.

between the pain and the treasure by mysleepyrambles (2/2 | 22k+ | M) fitzier; canon divergence; hopeful ending; slow burn; mutual pining; fix-it

with sir john wilfully blind to the danger they are in, francis takes matters into his own hands.

death is a sailing ship by maleann (7/7 | 27k+ | M) fitzier; canon compliant; canon-typical violence; afterlife; POV james; body horror

james had died knowing that his heart, the core of his very being that no biographer would ever know, would carry on in francis crozier. would be protected, cherished even, because francis deemed him worthy of such care. oh, how he had loved francis then. he had been at peace with this being his last living thought. it’s his only thought now. in this undead life, his love has nowhere to go. james fitzjames wakes up in the afterlife. it looks strangely similar to his cabin on erebus.

one fast move or i’m gone by cosmogram (3/3 | 25k+ | Ex) fitzier; unrequited james/dundy; POV dundy; au–modern setting; au–academia

in a lifetime of unsubtleties, the affair with crozier is james’s worst. crozier’s hand resting on james’s lower back, there for all to see. crozier’s fingers nudging gently at james’s shirtcuffs when they stood around at receptions; crozier’s pale eyes going soft and foolish when james entered the room. sometimes simply crozier’s nod, sharp and proprietary, as though to say get upstairs, get in my office, close the door—as if the rest of them were not right there. or, the one where james and dundy are bright young things (baby post-docs) in english literature, and there’s a cranky new professor in town...

let the river rush in, not wash away by kt_fairy (4/4 | 27k+ | Ex) fitzier; canon divergence; established relationship; crossdressing; internalized homophobia

“it’s not something you wish known when you look like i do, i have learnt. ‘handsomest man in the royal navy’ feeling…” he shot a look at francis before bowing his face towards his teacup. “i had enough on the line, with my parentage, without everyone guessing how...how fine i felt in that dress. how soft and light and bright i felt, playing the very opposite of all i try to be.” or most people come home, boundaries are set, james (eventually) gets a dress.

let us live now / only this by furiously, ilcardinalecheballa (5/5 | 25k+ | T)  fitzier; canon divergence; slow burn; mutual pining; flatmates; friends to lovers

“i've put in for another commission.” james' voice was perfectly ordinary: so much so, in fact, that francis was sure, for the space of two blissful seconds, that he must have misheard. francis crozier and james fitzjames are alive. they are home. so are most of their men. but coming home—coming home together—is a more complicated proposition than it had at first glance appeared. then james' career comes to call.

'tis past, and so am i by glassessay (1/1 | 26k+ | T) fitzier; time travel fix-it; everyone lives/nobody dies (eventually); POV james

james fitzjames dies as francis cries above him, bleeding out of too-old wounds and thinking if only we had known. he opens his eyes in his cabin.

seen by ktula (9/9 | 97k+ | Ex) fitzier; au–modern setting; BDSM; slow burn; author francis; explicit sexual content

against his better judgement, francis crozier goes to a kink convention in canada to promote his new book. it's the dead of winter, and he has a vague suspicion he should have stayed home. then he meets james fitzjames, and confirms his suspicion is correct.

paper boats by Kt_fairy (4/4 | 25k+ | M) fitzier; pre-canon; canon divergence; gender identity; period typical attitudes; the dress

james did not feel quite like himself, dressed up like a sailor. and, strangely, feeling unlike himself was rather satisfying. he supposed it was all the change going on. in a few days he would step onto the pyramus and begin his life at sea, in the hope it was vast and varied enough that it contained a place where someone like him might be able to be honest about themselves, and still live a good life. or james fitzjames goes to sea, finds a place for himself, then finds a way to be himself.

rotten work by for_autumn_i_am (1/1 | 26k+ | Ex) fitzier; au–modern setting; coworkers; pining; misunderstandings; enemies to friends to lovers

james fitzjames, COO of erebus voyages, has a tragic crush on his straight colleague, francis crozier. (well. he thinks francis is straight.) there’s no way his tender feelings will ever be returned, is there?

don’t you (forget about me) by soft_october (1/1 | 6k+ | G) fitzier; canon divergence; POV sir james; outsider POV; misunderstandings; secret relationship

all oddities were temporary anyway! they were going home, francis would be well again, the enterprise would soon return to england, and there would be a farce of a court martial before a knighthood for francis and an easy retirement. and as for fitzjames…well, fitzjames would be reassigned, of course, continue his meteoric rise within the ranks of the navy. he would send a suitable number of letters to francis from somewhere exotic and warm before the draw of newer company turned his thoughts away from the arctic, and those who came with it. after rescuing the remnants of the franklin expedition from the ice, ross would prefer everything go back to normal. it doesn't.

some unknown tropical bird by hauntinghouses (1/1 | 4k+ | T) fitzier; canon divergence; ghosts; supernatural elements; fix-it; angst w/ a happy ending

even after returning to england, francis crozier is haunted by the past.

[prentissluvr]

sorry won't cut it (rewrite) — sam and dean winchester

cw : gn!winchester!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, barely different from the original but slightly adjusted to fix some canon details i got wrong and adjust to my changed perspective of the whole purgatory situation, sam and dean did reader wrong, swearing, arguments, crying, nicknames (kid, kiddo, honey, sweetheart), 4.1K words.

summary : since dean disappeared, sam has been distant. when he calls you and you find out dean's back, you also find out that both of your older brother's have been lying to you.

when sam answers your call, it comes as a relief. a surprise, but more than anything, a relief. it’s been two and a half months, almost on the dot, since he’s answered a call. usually it’s just one month. he has a single burner phone just for you, but it’s off half the time, and the other half he never answers.

you’ve grown used to his distance, to an extent. it still stings when your phone rings till voicemail sometimes, but you’ve just been too tired to argue with him, to ask him to comfort you, make him keep hashing through the pain of looking for dean and finding nothing but trouble. 

you want him to have the normalcy, the girl who loves him and makes him feel alright. you want to have faith that he’ll figure out how to factor you into it all eventually, but you still miss him, and you’re still lonely, so you keep calling, never getting angry or upset when he occasionally picks up. you just act like it’s normal, and you can tell he appreciates it, so you keep it up. in return, he asks you over sometimes, tells you each time how much amelia raves about you after you leave, and hugs you tight before you go.

it’s been several months since he’s invited you over, and he doesn’t really talk about her anymore. you figure something must have happened, but you never push anything anymore with him.

this call is different. one, because he finally picks up. two, because he tells you to meet up with him, no explanation or normal talk about what you should bring for dinner. three, he asks you to meet at a random address in kansas.

he sighs deep, “just… get here as soon as you can. i’ll send you the location.” then he hangs up and it feels like the hunting life all over again.

⟢

it’s a seven hour drive, and you’re tired out of your mind, high-strung and worn out from leaving right after your shift at a diner full of sleezes who don’t tip enough. even though this whole thing is strange for the new, hunting-free sam, there’s relief coursing through you at the thought of seeing him, hoping he’ll let your tired feet carry you right into his arms. you pull into a driveway of sorts, no obvious entrance to the unremarkable building in front of you, but your years of hunting and meeting up with your brothers at strange places during strange hours after strange calls help you find the door. it's a bunker, one you've never seen before.

you were always a little bit more like sam, disillusioned to the hunter life and the way your father raised you. you weren’t a fighter like him, but you slipped away at eighteen to go to college and found somewhere near stanford so you’d be able to visit sam often. he loved that, always so glad that you got out too. but you were barely gone a year before dean came back to collect you and sam to look for your dad. you came easier than sam, less attached to your new place and always finding yourself missing dean.

that’s what you’d been doing this past year. missing dean, and painfully. so when you knock on the door, calling out, “it’s me, sammy,” you freeze when it opens several beats later.

because the person behind the door isn’t sam. but it is your older brother. just the one who’s been who knows where and presumed dead, for the last year or so. the one you’ve endlessly searched for to no avail.

“dean?” your voice is small as his name slips from your mouth.

his eyes go soft, the way they rarely get, and the slight smile on his lips is half pained, half pure relief to see you after so long. “hey, kid.”

you launch yourself into his arms, and he catches you easily, right there in the doorway, and you have to fend off tears that you know wouldn’t put up so much of a fight if you weren’t so exhausted. but you were raised tough, and winchesters don’t cry all that often, at least not where someone else can see. so you swallow hard and tough it out, letting dean pull away from you and lead you inside. he moves through the house with a sort of ease he’d only have if he felt comfortable and safe there. this raises questions, along with the fact that he's here at all.

you’re speechless, but not for a lack of anything to say. endless questions stream through your mind, each one pushing to be asked, even more desperate to be answered.

but the only thing you can figure out how to say is “hi” to sam when he greets you in the living room. he pulls you into a hug, letting you linger for a moment before you know you have to ask all of the hard questions. something in his face is unreadable to you, which is rare when it comes to your brothers. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was a hint of guilt. that rings alarms in your mind, but you brush your nerves aside when dean takes a seat on the couch.

you relax a bit when you sink down next to him, curling into his side a little. it makes you feel a bit childish, but you need it after everything this past year. he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you a little closer. sam sits down across from the two of you and you heave a sigh, wondering where to start.

opening your mouth and forcing words out is like a crack in a dam. everything comes out slow at first, but that lasts mere seconds before the flood.

“where… dean, where were you? i mean, i tried– i tried everything, i looked everywhere,” your voice breaks at that word, the weight of it meaning something only you understand. you look at him, brows taught and you’re confused by the surprise on his face, as if he didn’t expect you to say such a thing.

“what do you mean, you tried everything?” he asks, voice suddenly gruff and severe. you recoil from his side to get a better look at him. you don’t miss the look he shoots sam. this is already departing from what you expected, which is probably exactly what you should have expected, given your brothers. it’s just that, when dean hugged you back and he was solid and real and alive, when he sat on the couch instead of a chair so you could sit next to him, you thought that maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to stay tucked safe into his side as they told you what happened, as they asked you to stay with them. 

“what do you mean?” you shoot back. “what, did you think i’d just kick back and call it someone else’s problem?”

“that’s what sam did. that’s what sam said you did.” his voice is accusatory and when you whirl to look at sam, utter bewilderment evident on your face, you can see him physically grimace. which means dean’s telling the truth.

“sam did what?” the question sounds like it’s targeted for dean, but you’re staring the younger down.

“listen, i– i’ll explain it to you later. what do you mean you did everything, you said you were going to school?” sam looks irked and defeated all at once.

“that is completely beside the point, sam, you lied to me?” you ask, voice tired and bordering on distressed, “but you’re not going to explain to me why? why you lied to me or why you apparently didn’t look for dean, i mean what– what’s up with that?” dean’s hand on your shoulder prevents you from standing as your voice grows strained.

“listen, kid, sam and i, we’ve already hashed this out, okay? it’s uh– it’s fine, alright?” with the way he says the word “fine”, you know that it still bothers dean, so you can’t understand why he’d say so. “we’ve got things to discuss here,” dean tries to reason with you before sam can respond. he’s no peace maker, but a full blown fight between the two of you could have an ugly ending.

“things to discuss?” you repeat, in disbelief of the audacity. knowing them, that means they need something from you, which begs the question of why sam asked you over in the first place. you don’t even want to think about them having ulterior motives outside ofjust wanting to see you, so you brush it off angrily. 

“well, i’m glad to hear that you two have hashed it out, but i haven’t yet, so we can discuss whatever that is later.” you shrug off dean’s hand, trying to focus on the things you’re already angry about instead of asking the even bigger question nagging at you now. when the hell did dean get back that those two had time to hash out something that major? you turn your anger back to sam, thinking about what it was like when dean first disappeared. “you told me you looked. you told me you did all that you could, that you tried everything in your power. now dean’s telling me that you did nothing?”

sam sighs heavily. “yes. okay, listen, i’m sorry i lied to you. but i just wanted you to try and live your life for once. i figured if i told you i did everything i could, that, i don’t know, maybe you’d give up and try to move on? go to school, do something you love, have real friends, maybe find someone?” he throws his hands up in the air, a defeated gesture because he knows you don’t agree, while he still thinks he did the right thing.

you scoff, because, god, he really has no idea. arms crossed and face the kind of calm that says run to anyone on the other end of your anger, you nod in false understanding. “yeah, what good that did,” you say, your tone so sarcastic and dry that sam just clenches his jaw and dean’s face turns from concerned to full-blown worried. he wonders if he should ask what that means, because whatever it does, it’s certainly not “good.” 

but you pick up again after a moment of thick, dripping silence. “you know, sam, you have absolutely no idea how this past year really was for me. i’m not saying it was easy for you, because i know it wasn’t. though now i know you also skipped the trouble of looking for dean and really, actually lived that hunting-free life you wanted. and–” you pause a moment, purposefully not looking at dean. “and it’s not– not bad that you got that, sam, all i’m saying is that just about nothing has been all, i don’t know, rainbows and butterflies more like you think,” your voice takes a scathing edge, a tone so rare to both of your brothers that neither knows what to say, “and you know what, sam? it’s looking to me like i’d be a lot better off if you’d just decided to tell me the goddamn truth.”

sam says your name, tentative like he’s testing hot waters, “i thought you said things were going well. you said you liked school, that you were making friends there? just explain to me what you mean so we can figure this out.”

“figure it out,” you repeat under your breath, sticking your tongue against the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something too harsh. “sam, things were going well! they were!” now you’re feeling desperate to make him understand, “but that night you told me there was nothing else we could do, nothing else to try and that i should just do my best to move on? i couldn’t, sam, i couldn’t do that. there had to be something more we could do, so i gave up on the things you said you did and i went further. i let you think i was fine, that i was doing what you wanted for me because you always sounded so tired. you always sounded like one more thing on your plate would make the sweet little life you built come crashing down, so i made sure you wouldn’t have to worry about me.”

dean’s does his best to make his interruption gentle, though he’s not the best at hiding his frustrations sometimes. he doesn’t want to upset you more, but you can hear the tension in his voice when he asks, “kiddo? what do you mean by you ‘went further?’”

suddenly you shrink in on yourself, your lower lip caught between your teeth and your eyes shining with fresh tears. “dean–,” your voice breaks before you can even say anything else. his hand is on your back, meant to be comforting, but it only makes you feel worse about it all. you know how much dean would hate the lengths you went to to try and get him back. “i can’t–” you shake your head, ignoring your oldest brother, “i can’t right now, but maybe… maybe if you’d told me the truth, sam, if i’d just started by reading through all of bobby’s books like you said you did, things would have worked out differently.”

“well, maybe if you told me you were going to keep trying, i could have helped you!” sam fires back.

you let out a strangled, frustrated noise as you stand, unable to keep sitting down. “would you? really? because i really don’t think you would’ve! you were so focused on moving on from losing dean that you distanced yourself from me, too! you barely picked up, never called, only talked about dean in three word sentences to tell me a lie about how you tried and failed to find anything to help! maybe if you paid any attention to me, gave any indication that you wanted to help or see me or be a major part of life like i wanted of you, i would have opened up to you!” it makes you even more angry when your voice turns teary, “and for once, i wanted to try to be the one to take care of you two. i kept my secrets, i never let on how fucking lonely i was, just so you wouldn’t worry about me!” 

a stunned silence falls over you brothers, sam’s guilt beginning to overrun his natural response of anger, and dean making up for that fading anger with his own. your chest heaves with laboured breath as you stare sam down.

dean’s tone is icy as he breaks the silence, “sam, is that really how you treated them while i was gone?”

sam exhales hard, ignoring dean in favor of looking at you, “i was just doing what i thought was the best for both of us. i didn’t know, okay, i’m sorry. i really am.” he looks sorry, and sad, like this is the opposite of what he wanted. under your anger, you know it’s true that he never wanted this. you know that sam thinks people are better off distant from him. but it hurts that he let you be one of those people.

“are you kidding me?” you exclaim, voice turning shrill as your composure slips further and further. “people got hurt, on my account,” you have to force that part out through gritted teeth, “i got kicked out of school, and i spent three months running from hunters!” both sam and dean want to interrupt at that. but you keep going, your voice quieter now, harsh and trembling, “but you were doing what you thought was best for both of us? try what was best for you. dean was gone, and i needed you, sammy, i needed you and the second you said you needed to get away, alone, i knew i didn’t have you.”

that shuts him up, has him deflating and his guilt taking over, and you can see it and you hate it. you almost wish he’d get angry instead because that means you can keep shouting at him to try and make him understand. but all you get are his clenched jaw, his sad eyes, and his guilty silence that tell you he knows he fucked up but he can’t figure out a way to make it better since sorry sure as hell won’t cut it.

it’s dean who cuts into the heavy silence again. “sam.” his name hangs in the air, weighed down with unspoken words. we’ll talk about this later, you guess is the message. you can feel how angry dean is without even looking at him. you know all he ever asked of sam if he was gone was to take care of you, and now dean knows he didn’t. he tried, the way he thought was right, but he didn’t. then his attention is back on you. he says your name, clear and careful. “i’m gonna need you to tell me what you did.”

you wipe at your face angrily as you whirl to face dean. trying to keep the ever present tears at bay, you tap right back into your anger. but it's more tired this time, less convincing with your voice taut from unshed tears begging to be released.

“all that, and that’s what you take away from this? really, dean? you’re gonna need to know what i did? i don’t need you to tell me to know that– that it was wrong and i don’t need you to make me feel any more shitty than i already do right now, okay?”

it’s his turn to wear a look of guilt on his face, but it only sits there for a flash before he keeps going. “kid, that’s not what i’m tryna’ do here, alright? i just wanna understand so i can keep us safe, yeah?” he puts his hands out in a peaceful motion, but something else unresolved floats back up into your focus.

“no. dean, no! because there’s something else here, something both of you have been avoiding this entire time!” there’s a sudden change in the air, like both of them are holding their breath, silently begging you won’t ask the question. “dean, how long have you been back?”

his hesitancy to answer tells you everything. “kid, listen, that’s not imp–”

“don’t you dare say it’s not important! did you hear anything i just said, dean? anything about how shit my life has been since you’ve been gone, how lonely i’ve been?”

“you’re right,” sam relents, forging on before dean can stop him, “he’s been back for three months now. it’s my fault we didn’t tell you. it’s all my fault, and believe me, i am so sorry.” you collapse into a chair with your head in your hands as he continues, “i know that does nothing to fix things, but i am sorry, and i swear i’m gonna spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, kiddo. i’m all in now, and i did it all so this wouldn’t have to be your life, but you’re here now and we want more than anything to have you around, okay?” 

you lift your head up to stare at him. “three months.” your voice is dangerously quiet. “you two…” your tired mind can’t think of words strong enough, “drive me insane, you know that? dean, you just– you just went along with that and decided, let me guess, that it was best for me? because i was at school, living a normal life and away from the danger of this one? is that it? it’s best for me not to know my brother’s alive? because, you know, that reminds me of something. hm, maybe the time sam hid from us that he was alive for a year because he didn’t have his fucking soul? oh, yeah, it must be that.” you let out a short bark of laughter, but it and your voice are completely devoid of any humor. dean visibly recoils when you mention that. he’s thought of it, and still decided to keep you in the dark. “come on, dean, you know how that feels and you go and do it to me again? really? you gonna tell me you came back from wherever the hell you were without a soul next? where– where even were you?” you ask shrilly.

you’ve beat him too. “sweetheart,” he sighs, “i’m sorry. we were wrong to do that to you, okay? i– i was in purgatory. i can explain the rest later.”

finally, you think you might be out of things to say, to be hurt about. your voice is quiet and fragile now, and the dam holding back your tears is fractured in a million places, more than ready to break. “i missed you so much. both of you,” you whisper. you meant to make a scathing comment about how “sorry” and “we were wrong” don’t even begin to cover it, but you find that you’re not in complete control of the things coming out of your mouth. you’re just too goddamn tired. dean is crouching in front of you in an instant.

“i missed you, too, sweetheart. so much. i’m sorry.” he takes it as a good sign that you let him place his hand on your knee. you want to flick it away, maybe shove him away too.

“and i was so, so lonely. i was so scared,” you cry out, wishing you didn’t have to cry when you got angry. “and i’m so mad that you two did this to me. three months…”

“i know, kiddo, i know. i’m sorry.” gently, slowly, he tugs you towards him and into his arms and you slide onto the floor and cry into his chest, shaking and unable to say a thing. you want to tell him this doesn’t make it right, but dean hushes you gently when you try. “shhh, it’s okay. i’m here now,” he comforts. it’s true that this doesn’t make it right, but it’s almost all you need in that moment.

“sammy,” you choke out, still so angry with him, but wanting him near anyways, knowing that he’s too scared to come close to you after coming face to face with all of the ways you were hurt. his hand is on your back a moment later, hesitant at first, then strong and soothing moments later when you blindly grab for the fabric of his flannel to keep him close.

“okay. okay, i’m here. i’m sorry. i’ve got you, i promise,” he whispers, silently letting a few of his own guilty tears fall.

utterly exhausted, you stay slumped on the floor in dean's arms when your tears dry up. you can barely keep your eyes open and your breathing is soft and slow. 

“let’s get you to bed,” dean whispers, hoisting you all the way up as he stands. “sam’ll grab you a glass of water.” you sigh an imperceptible sigh because you know that dean is still pissed at sam. rightfully so, you’re more than just pissed at both of them, but you’re too tired to care in this moment, and the last thing you want is for them to be angry at each other. that’s your job for when you wake up hours from now. 

dean leads you to a foreign room and foreign bed, and you sink down onto the edge of it. sam is back moments later with the promised glass of water and tissues for your face. you cave to your exhaustion, climbing all the way into the bed. you curl up and tug at the covers slightly, eager to fall asleep.

“see you in the morning,” you mumble, effectively dismissing them with your voice hoarse from crying. you close your eyes before either of them can say a thing, not wanting to look them or your remaining problems and anger in the face.but your words are also a whisper of the beginning of forgiveness. 

“goodnight, kiddo,” dean says, his voice full of a familiar affection that he only uses for his little siblings as he presses a kiss to your hairline. he lingers at the doorway before

you drowsily register the sound of sam setting the glass of water on the night stand by your head. “i’m right across the hallway if you need anything.” a moment, then, “goodnight,” and a gentle hand on the side of your head before a kiss to your temple.

you fall asleep coming up with a list of petty ways you’ll have them make things up to you. neither sam nor dean will be pleased to hear that you’re calling shotgun in the impala for the next three months, minimum. sam for obvious reasons, and dean because he’ll know that means you’ll be taking your job as youngest sibling to annoy the living hell out of him very seriously.

[90skiyoomi]

Heyy, can you wrote a Oikawa x male reader who does extremely reckless/dangerous stuff (like drinking till he passes out, speeding on highways, taking random drugs people give him at raves and clubs) because He just has no self preservation or self care and he doesnt care about what happens to him or whether he lives or not. And Oikawa is worried/mad at the reader because He's scared for The readers safety and the reader is trying to tell Oikawa that he will be fine but Oikawa refuses to listen. Sorry if this is super specific but I'm going through at lot rn and this kinda describes it

oikawa tooru x m!reader

a/n: hey! most certainly. i hope that you're ok and please don't hesitate to reach out if you need someone. i know life kinda suck balls but it's good to have someone and if i can do anything for you, please don't hesitate at all to reach out to me! my inbox is always open 🖤 also i hope this story helps a little

tw: mentions of alcohol and drugs

you have always been on the wild side, as others would say. you were reckless with life and you didn't cared whether you lived or die.

from passing out drunk and accepting drugs from strangers in clubs, to speeding on highways, sometimes half sober, you didn't cared if you ended up dead in the ditch.

as much as you wanted to do all those reckless things, there was always someone nagging at you. that someone being your boyfriend, oikawa tooru.

props to him for being so patient despite you doing all the shit you do. he had always told you how worried he was when you're out and how you always shrugged him off by saying you'll be fine.

i guess even the most patient person has his limits.

his last straw was when you almost got into an accident when you sped home from a party, after taking god knows what drugs that stranger gave you at the club.

"y/n, did you drive home like this"

you just stumbled into the house and nodded ever so slightly.

he quickly pulled you to the couch and sat you down.

"you can't keep doing this. i'm always worried the moment you leave the house, not knowing if you're going to make it home alive. not know if i'm going to get a call saying that my boyfriend is dead. please y/n, you can't keep doing this."

you suddenly sobered up from whatever drug you were on as you watched your boyfriend cry.

oikawa was never one to cry. he was always the stronger one in the relationship, always the one trying to hold things together when you're out, living your life so recklessly, not caring about your life or safety. and while doing so, you forgot that you had someone worrying and caring for you waiting back at home.

"i just need you to know that i don't care what it takes for you to live properly and not recklessly. i know that you don't care what happens to you but i do. i care so much for your safety and for you and i'm so scared to lose you."

he was so vulnerable.

"i'm sorry"

that was all you could mutter out.

"i love you so much. please, try to live better for me, if you don't wish to live better for yourself"

he hugged you so tightly, it felt like your lungs were about to collapsed.

but i guess if you can't live for yourself, the very least you could do is to live for him.

[psychologeek]

The Long Road.

Feel free to share. Based on true stories.

Tw: wounds, terror, death and possible death, implied sexual assault, etc. - lmk if I missed anything)

Party (The Long Road)

You just turned 18, and your sister wants to PARTY. It's common - she's the wilder one, and you are more shy. But you love each other, so sometimes she stays home with you and sometimes you go out with her.

Her boyfriend got the three of you tickets for this awesome party. It's a peace rave, and you're gonna PARTY till dawn. You get a drink, or two, and maybe smoke a joint (or two).

(It's peaceful and beauty. You are with your twin and you are whole).

There's this guy there, and he starts flirting with you. Your sister go to make out with her BF, whispering: "go get him, tiger!"

You are nervous af and not really sure, but hopefully he liked you?

He did ask for your number, so. Maybe?

He's cute, and you talk for almost an hour before his friends called him.

(You gave him your number, obviously. )

Your sister is high and you are used to the way she and her boyfriend are, but- ew.

Right in front of your salad?

You sit on the ground and watch the beautiful sunrise, as the sky slowly turn red and the it's getting lighter.

There's loud noises, but it's common here so. You're not really worried. You just look for your sister to make sure she's still around and didn't leave you behind to do the deed.

(Again)

There's a loud BOOM, and you realise the rockets are in the area. You scan harder for your sister as you run for non-existing shelter.

There's a sound of firearms shooting from somewhere and everything is blurry and you can't breathe and you can't find anyone you know and-

Someone grabs you by the arm, and you scream.

"Shush!" Your sister hiss. "Don't be such a scary can't, gosh". She's high, and her hair is all messed up but her boyfriend is nowhere to be seen. She notices your searching look.

"He's starting the car. I went looking for you," she roll her eyes. "Someone gotta make sure you're okay, right? I'm your older sister. ".

"By EIGHT MINUTES," you mumble.

(But you don't feel like fighting over it as usual. You can see your sister's scared, and so are you. You have no idea what's happening).

You keep running towards the vehicles, and there are screams you don't understand.

(You don't look aside. You step on something red and sticky but you DON'T LOOK DOWN).

There's a couple running towards you. He's wounded, and she's holding his shoulder.

"Don't go right," they whisper in horror. "They are shooting there".

You hold your sister's hand tight as you keep running. You don't know where, but you run. Your sister's by your side, and you try to focus on breathing and not crying.

Your sister fall, and you try to help her up when the shooting gets closer. You fall by her, holding her like you did in the womb, and pray they won't see you.

(You can hear someone screaming. There's a short fire and then silence.

You hear a girl screaming, begging, "no! Please, don't!" And you don't know which is worse).

Your sister sob into your shoulder, and you put your hands on her back, pushing her into you, trying to mute the noise.

(Your fucking brain can't stop thinking about how and when will your parents hear about it, since they don't use the phone on Shabbat. You wonder if you'll die first, and you don't know if you wish for that or not).

There's silence around, and you wait, listen carefully, as you think about keep running.

But your sister won't get up.

"I'm sorry I dragged you here," she cries. "It's my fault.just go. Leave."

But she is your sister. Your twin. Your other half.

You won't leave her behind.

She slowly stands up and you realise her leg is bleeding. She was shot, and you don't dare looking.

You have no water or food and your sister need assistance to walk. But you keep moving.

(You carry your sister, and you look at the road. At one point you see the man who screamed before, and you tell your sister: "Don't look at the road").

You walk. You don't know for how long or how far, but you walk.

There's a sudden noise behind, and you throw your sister to the side of the road and throw yourself on her body. It's a car, and the driver sees you and you get ready to die.

(You're already covered by your sister's blood).

He stop by you and you kiss your sister for the last time.

Then the car stops, and you hear

"Fuck fuck fuck be alive please be alive oh my god."

(He speaks your language).

"Hi, hi, can you walk? You alive?"

You get up, and it's the guy from the party.

"Holly shit, I thought we were dead," you almost cry.

But your sister is pale and you get inside the car and the guy get out one of those lame first aid kits, but it has something to tie around her leg and you're covered with blood and pain and you think to yourself and your sister-

"We can make it. We'll survive."

You don't look out of the window. You don't look at the road. You look at your living sister, drinking an old bottle of water probably left in the car for week but WHO FUCKING CARES you're out!

And then the shooting starts again. The guy from the party start driving in a zig zag pattern trying to avoid it. (you realise you can't even remember his name, which is rediculus consider it all.)

You're flying, and moving, and-

When you wake up, you're on disoriented and stare right at red window, confused, thinking

"Wait, something feels off".

Your sister keep her hand on your mouth, and you can see her mouth

"They're coming. Play dead."

And then there's shouting and noise outside and your head's aching and your sister look dead and you don't know if it's acting or-

Or-

(It's acting. You decide it's acting.)

And you try to stay quiet and play dead, but there's a loud noise and you move and they see you and say something and you don't get it and-

Someone's got a knife and there's a gun aimed at you and-

Someone tear out your seat belt and -

They look around, dismiss your sister and-

(They aren't dead. They can't be.)

They pull you out and take you by force, put you on a motorcycle.

(It's hurt. You're scared. You want your sister. You want your mom. )

You don't know what's coming, but as they take you you look back at the road.

You think about the young man you saw, and the woman you didn't.

You think about an old story, warning to never look back.

You still does.

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

Looks around sweating and shaking urrrrm!

Okay Inumaki literally cleared the floor…had Y/N GAGGED. Gaddamn. Had me gagged even.

Idek what to say but like idk why reading y/n talking in the gc filled me wrong rave bc like what were you even mad abt atp like actually you guys found out the guy you liked and the guy you like are the same person…now me personally i would be somersaulting over the moon on GOD. But okay…if you wanna be like that..

Anyway gonna be crying till tmr xx

NAH DEAD ASS LIKE WHAT EVEN WASSS YN MAD ABOUT ??? (i ask like i’m not the writer and can’t just make smth up.)

[fruchtgummii]

I keep posting LOAOQLQ I'm kinda sorry anyway here's my review of all lbp story modes I've played. I just decided to put this here cos why not.

Gives context to my tier list

So. I'm going to review the LBP games story mode who's I have played. Keyword, STORY MODE. Okay : )

Well. Let's start with LBP1 since it's the first one. The story is cute, us having to defeat the collectors. And we can all agree on that the aesthetic is absolutely amazing. The feel and the aesthetic is something I enjoy so much. It almost feels like you're in a dream (not as much as in milestone5 but ykyk). It doesn't really have characters we really get a feel into but quite a few of them are still endearing.

Curator one is the king with the gardens, arguably one of the most iconic and memorable areas in all lbp games for us fans. For me I also have quite the emotional connection haha and yes it does well enough at what it's supposed to do, be a tutorial.

The savannah (Zola) is probably my least favourite area. I still love playing through it though, I just don't enjoy the theme as much.

The wedding (Frida), first level is one of my favourites in the whole game. I love the theme! It's fun and Volver a comenzar makes me cry. I don't really like the level where you have to go around with Don lus dog, but I still really appreciate the area.

The canyons (Uncle Calapenis) is really awesome and super iconic. This is really where the game starts to spike in difficulty and still it's so enjoyable.

The metropolis (Mags) once again has one of the most iconic levels with the construction site. Atlas slaps and I love the level in general. I also quite like the theme. Once again, fun.

I can say the same about the islands (Sensei) and The temples (Magisian). They are challenging and fun. And pretty. Just perfect lol.

I really love The wilderness (tbe collector). It's challenging but really fun, I love the levels that come before the boss fight, and the boss fight itself is just fine :)

I find the ending a bit short? Idk I feel like they could have done something different to make it have more impact.

I think LBP1 story mode is almost perfect. It's fun, challenging, there isn't a moment in the game where I hope a level is ending fast, not a moment where I dread thinking about what worlds to come.

Now, ummm LBP2 yes... ehem.

I love that we have proper characters. I really love all of them for their own reasons and even the villain the Negativitron is awesome. They're all cute and have amazing personalities!! Yeah I could rave about them for hours.

Anyway. I enjoy the story mode, till Avalonia. LISTEN. The last time I ever played the story mode was when I got the game, which was in late 2012 I think. I couldn't finish the game because back then it was too hard for me, and through that I ended up in eves asylum since levels unlock when you play with others who already have them unlocked. Anyways, like a year or two after I assume I actually managed to finish the story, and not once have I played the actual story mode since then. Till today.

In my mind, the opinion that LBP2 was the best LBP game stayed in my mind. The story was perfect, the create mode was perfect bla bla. And that's the expectation I went on when I played it today. And uhmmm well let's go shall we?

I dont like the excessive robot usage. I was never a big fan of the controlinator controlled creatures, and god. Is there a lot of that in this game. Not my kinda thing at all. In a lot of levels I was just hoping it would be over soon, and that's not what I consider a good gaming experience in my eyes.

Anyway, that's just wjat I feel though, only I don't like that. And I know there are plenty people who are in love with the storymode, which I absolutely understand. I quite like the bossfight, and I love the story. It's big and messy and really nice ! But the story (game) isn't for me. I don't feel like replaying it. And I was happy when it was over.

I feel guilty I have to feel this way about LBP2 but I need to be honest. It's not my favourite, at all. And that's just how it is.

Now for LBPvita, its quite the cute game! The story is alright, sadly most of the characters are super forgettable. I like the themes and once again, the music is bangers. I had fun playing the story. I can't really say too much about it other than that it's a neat little lbp game!

LBP3 ... when I was younger yes I had spite. I was angry and upset because it was buggy. I said I hated the game and the story mode even though I hadn't even tried it properly. I said the music sucked and I didn't like the characters.

Admittedly I am not too mad at my younger self. We all were upset. Now. I bought the game on ps4 for the cheap price of 8 euros like two years ago? I just wantrf it for funsies. I never touched it much since it was still buggy and I didn't have the nerve to get into it, but last month I think I decided to try and play through the story, and open up to give the game another try.

The story is ofcourse, rushed. I've watched videos on both beta and alpha, and yes, A LOT was changed last minute, I'm talking months away from release. We all know the game was rushed by Sony, so no hard feelings towards sumo. From Prologe to Ziggurat the game feels fine, but in bunkum lagoon everything becomes so fast.

That out of the way, now you have to piece the story together yourself. In the beta some details were different that don't really fit the current version. So I'll just tell my interpretation. (Short). We have to save the planet Bunkum from Newton who has been possessed by the evil titans, which were locked away in a can ontop of stitchim Manor.

Different from other villains, Newton himself isn't intirely evil. He seemed to have unleashed the titans due to insecurity and wanting to impress his parents, not understanding the true power of the titans.

Anyway, we have to help stop the titans, safe bunkum and Newton. I really like the gameplay. Its fun! I like stitchim Manor, and I love manglewood.

Speaking of manglewood I didn't mention how I quite love some of the characters in this game too. We even can piece together deeper backstories for some of them which I think is very yum yum.

Anyway, manglewood. Fun. Not a single level i don't enjoy replaying. Speaking of replaying I'm also not talking about any of the levels that aren't the main levels because I played on Mt own and I couldn't play most of them.

Ehem anyway I love the theme of the ziggurat, even if I really hate that one level with the fire. (So hot, so sweaty ;)). I'm in general not the biggest fan of toggles gameplay. And for whatever reason the second titans fight is impossible for me. I can't see shit send help.

Bunkum lagoon is okay, the levels are so nice too. The Great Escape is my favourite level in the game, its fun and challenging. And tbe boss fight is very nice too.

Sadly, the ending feels so rushed. You feel literally no accomplishment after finishing everything. For me tbe fact bunkum lagoon as a whole including the ending being so rushed is just the most negative thing about it.

That being said, I must admit that it, along with LBP1 slightly above, is my favourite story mode. Younger me is turning in his grave.

Thanks for reading mwah

[libidomechanica]

“Or root or seemed presence all such efforts fail”

A sonnet sequence

               1

I do not been able, still he lours and beside! Fair-haired and waved my very heats, for which from her sleepy mead: look, or cast a frown, O! I sate with tilt and loathsome carriage. Who won’t let the sea, by the fools! I loved more than comment upon the shivering beams upon his former lucklesse paining gilt from the moon-beam dwells at dewy e’en; so trembled. Or root or seemed presence all such efforts fail. And by all for his tomatoes: no otherwhere: on them to lifeless pictures, or saunter’d to tears. Is far too dangerous for that. The print more, as harbinger of light, slips the kill’d.

               2

Whose cheers their golden arrow within—et caetera. Relenting body so ill, the faded monsters of their tryst. Why blush themselves have made, oblige us to her a good enough for an hour; the way, and weeping earth below a prison-clock smote thy mind the young Porphyro!—Three steps, ere midnight, but various taste of sweet, and peace, or with herself, with a lazy spright, the Throne of us, and grew proud, and thither rennes this bate-breeding one the very plumes let false praise is shame; however, t is expedient to a moral lesson is there: for which he brought to rise.

               3

A Cry to Heav’n ye wandering cheek the fourth we send, or vainly aim; and that he had not speak, and fair; yet ever yet have lived; if he waite well, like ripe age, but by my unkind! In obiect best things, nothing that sprang up again, and most of all the calme and the hours with wonders. Her far, alas! That July 21st place of Death, and o’er my desire sees her spirit guiding. All fleet of flame! And lower panes. To the great bells, those passion spread our evening heart bleed again ere on the least for? Ah, my bonie Jean. On that playes, o how art thou sit and majesty, she puts out a well-pleased.

               4

I will endure the milder air. Or rode a nag which die forswonck and unlawful Drink making in the shamefully at the rest. Bid me discourse to flutes of men. Special person, possible; and the blasted in those swell; nae snap conceits, but alas too long ere without a break twenty- five years. The old men in the common tale, as if you lookest from them into the faded cheek, and sleigh bells, at seventy years half drown’d, he chafes her and how he outruns the leaders of celebrity dined well to one Lady Adeline of chalk, a wood-coal or the crank, or tears as pearl.

               5

I said, The devil was in heat and life was done. But not love which we ceased. Amusing curled like I hold him from grave for cits. In vision of the pouted blossoms. The honey’d middle-aged to meet. Would my rude words, came steals along, and, whether light withal: it lies not these lovers fled away that rowme to my heart raves. Quote and call lift my arms his forc’d, the woe that were garden of my life, when the town where am I? Will be, nor had power of human heare both of these and angling. Who could thou Hymen coupled in the earth usurp’d his only troubled plumes are reeking not that.

               6

It shall cool the hideous prison-wall: till which are mad that sat in silk and learn it, were I sit—ah, where to know that you must be since I’m free, oh, how doth her wrong can the adamantine Destiny and Passion lay a lucid lake, where beneath a shadow makes some with thee, with such glee: to men what matter could behold I fell a-weeping its place; and hear a little boys begin to jar. Hot, faint, life-poisoning pestilence like fire was not sit below. Like a happening thee speaks, as do those who knew not think. And white a friend, will live with foam, until the pine, I thought the lawn.

               7

Both cry Kill, kill! In this cottage; at his truth described the street and from one room in the turn’d Crimson holly-hoaks, among the ignes fatui’ of many cease to sing: that all that hour, and forth music to the embracements which no eyes blaze again I turned, and the tongues: and beauteous comprehensions, there is come, what a pleasant suns, we it is said, Tis now one could say,—who went and garter’d earls, or softly call, soothing fine,—the melodious discovery often are, their strength. But let my tongues will not speak. A kingdom of the seaman, tempests of greene embellish theyr eccho ring.