#so she was like ‘so you think that you dreaming about an entity that was the personification of fear itself is completely random?’

[florbelles]

finished hera & started lady macbeth and we have got to start blaming women for shit again for real

[landfilloftrash]

shoutout to my girl eno’s nightmare bc. Hi! What and/or Who the fuck was that ! its gonna haunt her and i for awhile !

[fingertipsmp3]

So me and my friend unpacked that night terror I had the other night & basically I am now on a self-imposed horror ban because I genuinely think if I keep consuming horror with my current mental state I will have a full-blown psychotic break 😔✌🏻

[thebibliosphere]

There are a lot of things I'm sad about in my life. You don't get to go through the kind of medical trauma I've been through and come out unscathed on the other side.

But one thing I'm really bitter about is that I can't remember my wedding anymore. The pernicious anemia took it from me and wiped my brain clean. Except it's not clean, not really. I remember it in patches. Like red wine stains on a white rug that have never quite lifted out no matter how hard you try.

I look at the pictures on my bookcase, and they feel like remembering a story someone else has told me. There's a young woman in a white dress wearing my face, and she looks happy. I'm happy for her. But you can see the strain around her eyes, too. The pain she's hiding because no one with authority believes her when she says her body doesn't feel right. That something is Wrong.

They won't believe her for another decade. They won't believe her until it's almost too late, and it's that lateness that will rob her of her memories and turn them into a wavering rainbow suspended in the fine haze of watery sunlight that occasionally surfaces through the blanks.

There's one memory that's real, though. Solid. It's not my vows. It's not my father walking me down the aisle. (Though those are there, just hazy and dream-like). It's our first dance.

It's the lights dimming around the room as the staff cleared the floor, causing the fishbowls full of white roses and LED lights on the tables to wobble like pools of moonlight against dark paneled walls.

It's the band inviting us out onto the floor and us giggling because we know what's coming next, and no one else does. It's the twang of a banjo reverberating around the room through the speakers, followed by the dulcet tones of Kermit the Frog wondering why there are so many songs about rainbows.

It's us waltzing around the enclosed circle of light, singing to each other out of tune and grinning like idiots as everyone around us starts to laugh.

It's everyone joining in on the song because it's the Muppets, and everyone knows the words. It's 100+ people singing the Rainbow Connection, some laughing, some a bit tearful, because it's bringing back memories. Because it's making a new one.

It's looking up at my new husband through the brain fog and all the pain in my body and thinking, "I want to remember this moment forever."

I don't know what entity was out there listening to me at that moment and chose to grant that wish. I don't know why this is the one memory that stuck while everything else in my brain got decimated into scattered, fragmented snapshots. But I'm so, so thankful it is.

[vxnuslogy]

— empty souls do not breathe, they wait.

pairing: kinich x gn!reader

premise: ajaw has always thought that after kinich's death, all will eventually bow to him as their new king. what he didn't expect was to grapple with his host's loneliness and find the reason why he sought your presence during nights that grow too cold.

— warnings: slight angst if you squint

— author's note: ajaw holds a very special place in my heart so deserves to be the main character of this fic. and after almost 24 hours of having no electricity, it'll finally leave the basement. this is heavily inspired by this comic on twt so please go give it a read! art credits to @.n249 on twt. | 2.5k words.

— tags: @ryescapades @moineauz @mikashisus @https-sourlimes ; if you'd like to be tagged, please fill out the forms in my pinned!!

there was something wrong with kinich. mavuika’s eyes scanned over the wounds on the poor boy’s body and the blood dripping from his forehead. long gone was his usual bandana and golden rimmed eyes were now tainted with a strange red. 

this man is not kinich.

“so kinich has fallen, too,” her voice sullen, eyes barely able to look at the husk of one of her heroes. though her stance is not tense, it certainly wasn’t relaxed either. “kinich” followed her movements carefully—the way her hands twitched towards her claymore, her eyes he could not read, and the unmistakable tone of her voice. the pyro archon was disappointed.

“i, too, would be disappointed if you didn’t notice, archon.” kinich dipped his head low and let out a bone chilling laugh that scratched his throat the wrong way. blood stained glove came to push his hair back as mavuika stares at the eyes that did not belong to the dendro user of the scions of canopy. 

“it was a shame for that brat to die, but oh well,” a twisted grin tugged at his lips as mavuika’s face remained passive. “it is i! the almighty dragon lord, k’uhul ajaw!”

he takes a deep breath before letting his host’s arms fall to his side. “per our agreement, i will stand in and make kinich the greatest hero for all of natlan to see!”

“and would you be satisfied with that?”

ajaw’s gaze hardened as his lips tugged into a deep frown. the pyro archon’s eyes now held a fervor brighter than any hope this entity of chaos has ever seen. was she still hoping that kinich would miraculously survive?

“are you implying that not even celestia is celebrating my return? their gift is now mi–”

“the gift you claim for yourself does not respond to you,” ajaw flinches back, eyes zeroing into the vision of his person as his fists shook in rage. “dreams will die if their master has fallen. there’s more to the contract between the two of you than you think.”

ajaw sees red. teeth snarling into a disgusting scowl as he readied kinich’s weapon—ignoring the way this too did not answer his call for blood. “are you mocking me, archon?”

much to the dragon’s surprise, the woman laughs. she laughs. at him? he’ll never know because he’s already zipping away from the scene. 

“this is merely a trial, a simple waiting game.” 

“why the hell am i using that servant’s party tricks!” ajaw screams as he lands in the far distance. he’s been using kinich’s grapple hook to come to and fro natlan these days as his mind flies back to this boy’s archon and her infuriating claims. “bwah! forget it, i have other things to deal with like–”

“kinich?”

like you.

the person from kinich’s life that he’s persistently pined over for years on end—ajaw even thinks kinich does it unintentionally, the boy was missing a few screws in the emotional department after all.

ajaw doesn’t answer back. he just blankly stares how your face is drained of its color. the way your fist grips at your chest like you're about to rip your heart out and the shaky–afraid–smile you flash him as you come to sit beside him.

you kept your distance—normally you’d sit so close your fingers would slightly entangle with kinich’s. ajaw observes you from the corner of his eyes before looking at natlan in the distance. back in his pixelated prison form, he could barely see natlan as a whole, just bits and pieces as he focused his energy to disturb and plan kinich’s untimely death.

“what are you doing here?” 

how strange, ajaw didn’t mean to voice that question out in the open. especially with the way you look at him as if your world had crumbled to dust, leaving no trace of your home to pick up. something tugs at ajaw after your blank answer. the great almighty dragon lords do not feel, they wreak havoc, instill control, so why? why was this heart beating in such a melancholic rhythm?

“let’s go,” he says as he slowly comes to a stand, trying to mimic kinich’s attitude and actions towards you to the best of his abilities. you look at him, tears threatening to spill, yet you still smile and take his outstretched arm. ajaw doesn’t voice how you immediately drop his hand when you stand—you always hold kinich like your final lifeline, so why are you letting go?

ajaw understands, he simply won’t accept this fact.

you loved kinich, not ajaw.

you wanted kinich, but you still treated ajaw with the same treatment.

you treat his wounds with care, apologizing whenever he winces and flinches, pressing soft kisses to the calluses of his hands and his forehead. you let him listen to your beating heart that drummed the same melancholic melody and wipe away at the tears he never acknowledges whenever the figure of kinich’s dismantled body haunts him at night. 

you acted as if you loved him and ajaw can’t live with this anymore.

so he runs away—punishes himself into confinement until you won’t be able to follow him. and then he thinks. sitting silently on a patch of grass as the sun slowly fades into another dreadful night. now that he’s left alone to grapple with all the uncontained emotions kinich himself couldn’t answer, ajaw finds himself at a loss.

“hey kinich,” he whispers to the wind, a bare hand filled with scars and scratches—free from the gloves that didn’t fit him—tug at the fabric of his shirt, right above his heart. “have you always been this lonely?”

ajaw hugs his knees, hand grabbing at his hair harshly–this body did not belong to him, he does not deserve your kindness or love. he won’t admit it, but now under the scrutiny or judgment of no one, ajaw comes to finally admit of his stretched jealousy for you and kinich. how come this insolent servant of him had someone who deeply cared about him despite his attitude? someone who was born to accompany him through thick and thin, to infuriate and fret over but still share whatever he or you could share with one another. neither of you left each other, and ajaw wanted that.

will ajaw have to live his life like this? chasing after the shadows of your relationship with kinich until his legs finally gave out? 

“ugh! i hate you kinich!” he screams into the wind as they howl back.

“don’t say that, ajaw,” his world stills and the already chilly breeze turned colder. there you were, under the light of a fading sun with a small smile on your lips. “you’ll hurt kinch’s feelings.”

he scoffs. grip tightening as he buries his head on his arms. “then he can stay dead if he can’t handle some words from me! my servant,” his voice quivers slightly. his breathing shakes and turns shallow as you step towards him. “don’t come near me!”

you take one step, then two, then you’re sprinting to ajaw before he could run away for a second time. you cradle his head to your chest as you let his iron grip bruise your arms and silent tears be soaked in your heart. 

“my kinich would not be offended by me!”

“i know he won’t,” you say in a whisper, hand rubbing circles to his back and ajaw finally comes to understand why kinich always sought you out each night when his past comes to haunt him. you kept his fears at bay with your overwhelming love for him. ajaw wonders if there’s also some love from you reserved for him. 

the following nights, ajaw spends his time in your arms as you tell him stories from your childhood. how kinich had saved you from a safety malfunction when you went bungee jumping, the kinds of flowers you press into your journal, and the many photos from your family in different nations.

“do you not miss them, human?” ajaw asks, another photo from your mother as she stands in front of a quaint flower shop in fontaine. you only smile and tuck away another album under your bed. the sight of ajaw curiously sifting through your photos—from family, friends, and kinich—makes something swell in your chest. it bloats and bloats until you’re sure it can hold all of natlan with ease.

“i do,” you reply, sitting by the edge of your bed and looking at the dates written behind each photo. “but at least they send me things so i know they’re doing well.”

ajaw frowns in contemplation. “will they come home?”

will kinich come home?

you don’t voice out the question that’s floating in ajaw’s mind and just smile. watching the flame from the small lamp on your bedside table flicker, your reflection staring right back at you as you meet ajaw’s gaze. 

“they will, we just wait.” 

ajaw frowns. “waiting means to waste your efforts to hope for a miracle.”

despite his harshness and pessimism, you chuckle. gathering all the stray photos, you put them back neatly in the album. as you make your way to the window to close the window, you turn back to ajaw. “an empty soul does not breathe, it waits. you’re waiting, too, ajaw.”

“i am not waiting for that vermin!” he protests with a huff. you laugh as he falls back on your bed, both hands behind his head as he stares at your bedroom ceilings. a contemplative expression falls on his face as the furrow of his brows from embarrassment finally eases. “is he even still alive?”

you hum as you lay beside him. your eyes gaze at the still blazing vision on his pants and close your eyes. “a person’s vision is their ambition. they die out when it's been fulfilled or when its master passes,” ajaw looks at you with storm clouds in his eyes but you shift in your position and gently close them with your hands. “so long as kinich dreams, he’ll still live. he’s not the type to leave business unfinished.”

tonight ajaw dreams—he hopes that your belief turns out to be true. in the blanket of night he’s grown to be afraid of, he sees you and kinich. but strangely enough, he sees himself in between you two—not as an obstacle, but as a part of your happiness. ajaw finds himself really liking this dream. 

the night kingdom, like its name suggests, is a perpetually cold and dark landscape with only the wayob in front of him casting a faint light. small engravings of his ancient name glows in a light purple as he gazes at his hazy body. surprisingly enough, his bandana still stayed securely on his head. 

“seems like i’m still under the wayob’s protection,” he says to no one in particular as echoes about a flame burning bright eases his worries. “if i’m still here then surely we must have won.”

kinich was about to turn and walk away—to where? he’s not quite sure. as he takes a step after another, the wayob—the original bearer of his ancient name—speaks to him in a voice he can only describe as all knowing; omniscient like his archon.

“you seem troubled, “malipo” kinich,” it said and this makes kinich stop in his tracks. “do you not trust your little companion to bring you victory?”

kinich doesn’t answer immediately. he takes his time to weigh out the answers he could reply with. “trust is a strong word. we’re only bound by a contract after all. i’m simply weighing the chances of my gamble.”

the wayob chuckles, deep and fatherly. kinich felt his shoulders start to relax a little more as the wayob continued to speak to him. “bearers of the “malipo” name are often accompanied by saurian companions through thick and thin. some, if not all, of them had an unbreakable bond between them.”

“so i’ve heard,” kinich says, arms crossing over his chest as he questions, “but a lot of people have questioned your judgment because of it.”

kinich hears a chuckle again as he hears something akin to glass breaking in the distance. 

“i’m well aware, “malipo” kinich. which is why i’m glad,” when kinich looks up to the dark sky, hundreds of shattered fragments rain down on him but he doesn’t shield himself. he feels his heart beat a little faster when he catches sight of his body—lacking his bandana and gloves—land a few feet away from him.

“my judgment was proven right, once again.”

“wait–” but the wayob had lost its glow. kinich doesn’t get the chance to dwell on it further as his own body possessed by a small dragon is grabbing him by the shoulders and screaming at his face.

“consider yourself lucky that i see some value in you “malipo” kinich!” the dragon shouts as he raises his hand, the same hand he always uses to summon ajaw’s power before being blinded by a green glow. “consider this an investment! so you better bring in some profit or i’m taking your beloved as hostage!”

a persistent series of knocks on your front door rudely awakens you from your slumber. grumpily leaving your bed, you try to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you prepare yourself to berate whoever is at your door at this ungodly hour.

“what is it—”

“you win this time, human!” a small dragon screams at you. you blink a few times as you hold out both your hands for ajaw to land on as he huffs and obliges. “i’ve fulfilled my end of the deal, so you better keep yours!”

“please don’t tell me you actually made a deal with him…” when you look up, you feel tears threaten to spill from your eyes again. kinich stands there, a sheepish hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looks at you in distress. you let ajaw go and let your hands drift to kinich’s face, dragging them under his eyes and tracing over his lips as a ghost of a smile starts to form.

you chuckle in disbelief. “yeah, maybe i have.”

“i hope you know the consequences of your decision,” you sneak a peek at ajaw who has his little pixel arms crossed over his chest. you turn back to kinich, a smile on your lips as you tug him inside your not so empty home. “you’ll just have to wait and see.”

ajaw quietly watches as you make kinich some food, a homely ambience blankets the house as you and kinich catch up. he’ll never openly admit it, but he’s glad you agreed to his deal. he feels kinich’s eyes follow him like a hawk as he sits himself down on your shoulder. you offer him a spoon of food but he only huffs in decline. 

you’re waiting has paid off, though ajaw will never verbally admit. the other half of both your souls has come home and your statement was proven right: ajaw’s soul—as well as yours—will always wait for kinich to come home.

and kinich smiles, because like ajaw, he’ll never verbally admit how he’s been waiting for him to save him from the night kingdom all this time.

© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

lorenzo berkshire x oblivous bsf!reader who doesn't realize enzo's feelings for her

You and Lorenzo Berkshire had been inseparable since before either of you could remember. You shared everything: birthday parties, first days of school, scraped knees, and secret hideouts. Growing up in each other’s orbits meant that your lives were entwined so tightly that the idea of "you" and "Lorenzo" felt like one singular entity. There was no "you" without him.

Your earliest memories were filled with laughter—his soft giggles as you raced through the fields behind your house, his shy grin when you baked cookies together for the first time (though he burnt them terribly). As kids, you held hands without a second thought, sneaking into each other's homes when it rained, building forts out of blankets and pillows while you dreamed about the day you'd finally go to Hogwarts. The night before your first train ride, Lorenzo had shyly handed you a daisy he'd picked from his backyard.

"To remember me by," he mumbled, cheeks pink.

"As if I could forget," you'd teased, but the flower stayed pressed between the pages of your favourite book.

Then, Hogwarts happened, and you made new friends, got sorted into different houses (he ended up in Slytherin, you in Hufflepuff), but you still found each other between classes. The teasing continued, the inside jokes and pranks. You became his safe space when the weight of his duties pressed on him too hard, and he was your companion in every late-night gossip session.

There were still times when you thought there was something different. Like the time during a lazy summer day at the lake when he draped his jacket over your shoulders, even though the sun was shining brightly, or the way he hesitated just a moment too long before pulling his hand back after helping you up from a fall. You never thought too deeply about it, brushing it off as part of your long-standing friendship.

Year five arrived, and the two of you were as close as ever. Still, there were moments that felt... different, though you couldn't quite place why. He'd brush your shoulder when he passed you in the hall, or his gaze lingered just a little too long during meals. You laughed it off—because what could possibly change between you and Lorenzo? Best friends forever, right?

One night, in the Common Room, you were discussing upcoming exams when he turned to you, his voice lower than usual.

"Do you think..." he hesitated. "Do you think people can just stay the same forever? Like... always be what they are?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. "I mean... I guess? If they want to be. Why?"

Lorenzo only gave you a small smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "No reason," he murmured before changing the subject.

In year six, things shifted subtly again. He started walking closer to you, his hand occasionally brushing against yours as you strolled through the halls. There were times when his laughter seemed softer, more reserved when he was alone with you. You didn’t notice, not in the way he hoped. It wasn’t obvious enough to break the oblivion that surrounded you, and maybe that was for the best.

It wasn’t until the holiday party that year that everything came crashing down.

Aurora, your best friend from Ravenclaw, had nowhere to go for the holidays. You couldn't leave her alone, so you invited her along to Blaise's annual party, excited to introduce her to the Slytherins you’d grown close with. Lorenzo had helped organize everything, naturally, and you spent the first half of the evening by his side, laughing with him as usual.

You introduced Aurora to everyone—Pansy, Draco, Astoria, Daphne, Theodore—and lastly, Lorenzo.

“This is Aurora,” you said, motioning to your friend with a grin. “She’s an absolute sweetheart. I think you two will get along well.”

Lorenzo’s eyes flicked from you to Aurora, offering her one of his rare, warm smiles. “Nice to meet you.”

You missed the way Aurora’s cheeks flushed instantly at the sound of his voice. But Pansy didn't.

The evening wore on, the room buzzing with laughter and chatter, and eventually, the group began to scatter into smaller conversations. Aurora pulled you aside near the punch table, her face unusually tense.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, concerned by the sudden shift in her mood.

She hesitated, glancing nervously at where Lorenzo stood talking to Blaise. “I… I think I like Enzo.”

Her words hit you like a blow to the chest. You stared at her, the warmth of the room suddenly feeling suffocating. "What?"

“I think I like him," she repeated, biting her lip. "I don’t know how it happened, but… there’s something about him. The way he talks, how kind he is. He’s just so—”

You didn’t hear the rest of her sentence. Everything blurred, and for a reason you couldn’t quite grasp, it hurt. A lot. You wanted to tell her she was mistaken, that it didn’t make sense, that Lorenzo wasn’t supposed to be liked like that—at least not by someone else.

But what could you say? She was your best friend too, and she deserved happiness. So, you forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I didn’t know. I mean, he is… he’s great, isn’t he?”

Aurora nodded, her expression soft. “Yeah. I hope it’s okay that I told you.”

“Of course it is.”

But it wasn’t. Not really.

The next morning found you sprawled across your bed in the Hufflepuff dormitory, staring blankly at the ceiling. The sun had already risen, casting beams of light through the window, but you hadn’t moved much since getting back from the party. The thoughts from the night before still circled in your mind, refusing to let go.

Your dormmate, clearly concerned by your uncharacteristic silence, glanced over at you as she packed her books. “You good?” she asked, hesitating by the door.

You gave her a half-hearted wave, plastering a smile on your face. “Yeah, fine. Just tired.”

She eyed you for a second longer before shrugging. “Alright, well, don’t forget about class later.”

As soon as the door clicked shut, you let out a long sigh. Alone again.

Your mind wandered back to the party. Aurora. Lorenzo. You couldn’t shake the way her eyes had lit up when she talked about him. How she had looked at him like he was the most fascinating person in the room. But why did it bother you so much? It didn’t make any sense.

Would they even look good together?

You sat up a bit, propping yourself on your elbows as you thought about it. Aurora was so petite compared to Lorenzo. The height difference wasn’t even cute—he’d have to bend down just to talk to her, and that would be awkward, right? And they were complete opposites. Lorenzo was calm, reserved, always thinking before he spoke. Aurora was bubbly, spontaneous, the type of person who filled every room with laughter. Opposites attract, sure… but them?

You groaned and flopped back onto your bed, hands covering your face. "What would their ship name even be?" you muttered to yourself. "Aurozo? Lorora? No, that sounds terrible."

But then your mind wandered further, picking at the insecurities you hadn’t let rise to the surface last night. Aurora was amazing, after all. She was sweet and smart, always knowing the right thing to say. She was pretty—okay, not just pretty, she was beautiful—and witty, always ready with a clever comeback. And then there was her personality, so warm and inviting that even the most standoffish people were drawn to her. She was perfect, really.

Too perfect.

You sat up and slapped your forehead, hard enough that the sound echoed in the empty room. “Talking to yourself now? Really?” you whisper-yelled, feeling the embarrassment creep up your neck. “That’s a new low.”

You lay back down, arms draped over your eyes as you tried to push the thoughts away. But no matter how hard you tried to brush them off, the uncomfortable tightness in your chest refused to leave.

It didn’t make sense.

Why did it bother you this much?

After classes that day, you were packing up your books when you spotted Aurora walking towards you, her usual bright smile lighting up her face. There was something different about her today though—something nervous and a bit fidgety. She stopped just in front of your desk, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers.

"Hey," she said softly, biting her lip as if she was about to ask something big.

You tilted your head, sensing her hesitance. "Hey, everything okay?"

She took a deep breath, then let it out in a rush. "Can you… set me up with Enzo?"

Her words felt like a punch in the gut, but you masked it with a cheerful smile. After all, what kind of friend would you be if you didn't help her? She liked him—really liked him. And wasn’t it your job to make sure your friends were happy?

“Of course,” you heard yourself say, even though the knot in your stomach tightened. “I’ll help. Enzo’s great, and I’m sure you two would… get along.”

Aurora’s face lit up instantly, and she clasped your hands in excitement. “Thank you! I just… I didn’t want to approach him out of nowhere. I figured since you guys are best friends, maybe you could, you know, talk me up?”

You nodded. “Yeah, no problem. I’ll drop your name.”

For the next week, you became Aurora’s biggest advocate when it came to Enzo. You wove her into nearly every conversation the two of you had, even when he clearly tried to steer things elsewhere.

“Did you know Aurora’s favorite flowers are tulips?” you blurted one afternoon while the two of you were studying in the library. Lorenzo looked up from his notes, blinking in confusion.

“Oh. No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, she’s got great taste. She’s really into plants in general, actually. She’s been thinking about starting a garden.”

Enzo raised an eyebrow, clearly not following your sudden shift in topic, but he nodded politely. “That’s nice.”

You grinned, determined to keep the conversation going. “She’s super thoughtful too. Last year, she handmade Christmas gifts for all her friends. You should’ve seen the scarf she made me. Perfect colors.”

“Mhm.” Lorenzo hummed, leaning closer to his parchment, probably thinking you’d drop it.

But you didn’t.

The next day, when you met up with him for lunch, you brought her up again, like clockwork. “Aurora’s so smart. She absolutely aced her Potions essay the other day. I bet she could help you if you’re stuck on anything.”

“I’m actually doing okay in Potions,” he replied, glancing at you with a flicker of confusion. “But thanks.”

“You should ask her about it sometime though,” you continued, smiling brightly. “She’s great at explaining things. I mean, I’ve learned so much just from talking with her.”

Lorenzo hesitated for a moment, his eyes scanning your face as though searching for something. “You’ve been talking about Aurora a lot lately.”

You shrugged, brushing it off. “She’s amazing! You two would really get along if you gave it a chance.”

He didn’t say anything, just gave a small nod and looked down at his plate, clearly wanting to change the topic. But the next time he showed even the smallest interest in anything you said about Aurora, you latched onto it.

During a conversation later that week, Lorenzo mentioned that tulips were actually nice flowers. That tiny comment was all it took for you to believe he was finally taking an interest in her.

“See? I told you! You and Aurora have so much in common. She’d totally love to talk flowers with you.”

His eyes flickered with something, a mix of frustration and confusion, but he didn’t argue. He nodded instead, a sigh escaping his lips. “Yeah… maybe.”

You beamed, completely oblivious to his hesitation. “I knew it! You’re going to be great together.”

For some reason, the idea of them getting closer felt like an itch you couldn’t scratch, but you kept pushing through it. This was what you wanted, right? To see your best friends happy. So why did you feel like you were slowly unravelling the more you pushed them together?

You sat in the courtyard, absentmindedly fiddling with the hem of your robe. The cool autumn breeze swept through the trees, but you hardly noticed. Your mind was still preoccupied with everything Aurora had said, her excitement about Enzo, and how you’d promised to help set them up. But why did it feel so… wrong?

Aurora had stopped by just minutes ago, her face bright as she asked, "How's it going with Enzo?" You had forced a smile, nodding, “It’s going great,” before watching her bounce away, completely unaware of the growing knot in your stomach.

Moments later, Pansy dropped down next to you with a dramatic sigh, her usual smirk plastered across her face. "Why the long face, sunshine?" she asked, bumping your shoulder lightly.

You mumbled, "It's nothing," but Pansy wasn’t one to be easily fooled.

She leaned closer, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Nothing? Or Miss Perfect just dropped by to say something stupid?” The nickname made you cringe, a flash of guilt creeping up. Aurora was your friend, and yet… every time Pansy called her that, it sparked an irritation you couldn’t quite explain.

“She was just asking about Enzo,” you muttered, hoping Pansy would let it drop.

“Oh?” Pansy raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “What about him?”

You sighed, lowering your gaze to the ground as you mumbled, “She wants me to set her up with him.”

There was a brief pause, and then suddenly Pansy burst out laughing. Like full-on, holding-her-stomach, can’t-breathe laughing.

You blinked at her, bewildered. “What’s so funny?”

Pansy wiped a tear from her eye and shook her head, still chuckling. “That’s so dumb. Aurora and Enzo? Together? Yeah, no. That’s never going to work.”

“Why not?” you asked, though the question felt hollow. Part of you had already started wondering the same thing.

Pansy smirked, tilting her head at you as if you were missing something incredibly obvious. “Even in an alternate universe where that might happen, it wouldn’t matter. Because Enzo likes you.”

Your brain screeched to a halt. You blinked, once, twice, before squeaking out, “Enzo what now?”

Pansy gave you a look that was part amused, part exasperated. “You heard me. Enzo likes you.”

You stared at her, not quite believing your ears. “What do you mean Enzo likes me?”

With a dramatic sigh, Pansy leaned back, crossing her arms. “You know, like when someone admires the other person and is practically whipped for them? That kind of like.”

“I know what like means, Pans,” you muttered, feeling your heart race. “But Enzo doesn’t like me.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “And the sky isn’t blue.”

You shook your head, still in denial. This had to be a joke, right? Lorenzo liking you? He couldn’t. He never showed any signs. Or… had he? You suddenly thought back to the subtle moments—his lingering looks, the way he always seemed to be there when you needed him, the small touches, the quiet smiles. No, it couldn’t be. Could it?

Suddenly, excitement bubbled up inside you. “Wait, are you serious?” you asked, your voice rising with hope. “Enzo really likes me?”

Pansy raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, obviously.”

You stood up, pacing as your mind raced. “But I can’t! What about Aurora?”

Pansy let out a loud groan, sitting up straighter. “What about Ravenclaw?” she asked, rolling her eyes again.

You stopped in your tracks, spinning to face her. “She likes him, Pans. I can’t just—”

“Oh, please,” Pansy cut you off, waving her hand dismissively. “I just saw her flirting with some Hufflepuff a few minutes ago.”

You froze. “What?”

Pansy smirked, clearly enjoying your confusion. “Yeah. So maybe she doesn’t like him as much as you thought.”

Your heart was pounding as you made your way to the common room later that afternoon, determined to confront Enzo. You found him sitting with Theo, the two of them quietly talking. When you approached, both looked up, and Lorenzo’s eyes immediately softened at the sight of you.

Without hesitation, you blurted, “You like me?”

Lorenzo’s eyes widened in surprise, then a slow smile spread across his face as he leaned back in his chair. “Took you long enough to notice.”

Theo snickered beside him, giving you a knowing look. “That was so obvious,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

You stood there, frozen, as your brain tried to catch up with what was happening. Lorenzo—your best friend, the person who had been with you through everything—liked you. He had liked you this whole time, and you hadn’t even noticed.

Lorenzo stood up, walking over to you. “I didn’t want to push you,” he said softly, his voice gentle and reassuring. “I didn’t want to make things weird between us. But yeah, I like you. A lot more than just friends.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you found yourself grinning despite the whirlwind of emotions spinning inside you. “I… I didn’t know.”

He smiled, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “I figured,” he teased lightly, “but I was okay waiting until you did.”

A soft laugh escaped your lips, and you shook your head in disbelief. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

Lorenzo chuckled, his eyes filled with warmth as he looked at you. “Not an idiot. Just a little oblivious.”

Before you could say anything else, Theo groaned loudly from his seat. “Finally. Do you know how long I’ve had to hear him talk about you? It’s exhausting.”

You both laughed, and as you looked up at Lorenzo, everything just… clicked. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t noticed before, but now, standing in front of him, everything made sense.

ughh it took me so long to write but i did it!! my first enzo fic! hope you guys like it

[cuubism]

think it would be funny if the first time dream and hob hooked up hob was like "do we need to worry about stds" and dream was like "obviously i can't get human illnesses 🙄" and so hob was like "cool we won't worry about it 👍". what dream didn't share is that there are also supernatural stds and apparently hob has one after hooking up with some supernatural creature like 200 years ago (he didn't know they were supernatural) (he also didn't know he had the std because they don't affect humans they're just carriers of it) anyway he doesn't find out about it until dream storms into his house later like HOB GADLING WHAT DEMON DID YOU HAVE SEX WITH and hob just stares at him because dream's skin is fucking. green

hob's like demon? when- what? why are you green

dream doesn't answer because he's mentally scanning hob's life book and is like "november 3 1821" and hob's like "she was a demon?" and dream (jealous) is like "YOU REMEMBER WHO IT WAS FROM 200 YEARS AGO???" and hob's like "in retrospect the all-black eyes should have given it away but in my defense. i'm stupid."

then he's like "wait did i get you sick is that why you're green???" dream says "no it doesn't really do anything to you it just makes you green" hob's like "why does that exist" dream's like "presumably someone was feeling petty and created it but. i haven't really looked into it"

anyway eventually they figure out how to un-green dream (and also hob) and then dream's like "you should use these supernatural condoms if you sleep with supernatural entities in the future" and hob is like. dream. WHAT SUPERNATURAL ENTITIES AM I SLEEPING WITH OTHER THAN YOU

[meo-eiru]

I apologize in advance for any mistakes (English is not my first language) BUT I JUST CAN'T! I can't stop thinking about how exactly the main character will end up completely dependent on Father Micah. If elves, dark magic, incubi and other creatures exist in this world, I would venture to suggest that possession by demons or other evil spirits is also a known phenomenon.

Just imagine a situation in which the main character is forced to attend church because she realizes that something is wrong with her perception of reality. It all starts small - insomnia, minor auditory hallucinations, which can easily be attributed to general fatigue from work or school. She can try to self-diagnose and self-medicate, but there is practically no effect.

Disjointed and disturbing dreams give way to nightmares, auditory hallucinations become more unbearable and are now accompanied by visual distortions as well. Any sane person in such situation will rush to a psychologist (more likely even a psychiatrist), but the treatment doesn't give the desired results. Her relatives are very worried and concerned; someone from a more devout background may advise turning to the clergy - and Father Micah is simply an excellent candidate to help this poor unfortunate soul. If she really feels better after each visit, then she'll come back again and again. Just to not lose her damn mind.

But what if Father Micah is the root cause of her condition? If he's not as pure and holy as he seems? What if he's the one who made a contract with the entity that is currently ruining her whole life?

He can't keep her in church by force unless there is a good reason, but even if she'll try to stay away, her condition will deteriorate so much that she WILL inevitably attack someone close to her at some point, mistaking them for Father Micah or that entity due to hallucinations. And SHE WILL have to return back if she doesn't want end up accidentally taking the life of someone from her inner circle. But even if she'll refuse to do so voluntarily, her dangerous condition is in any case a good reason to forcibly isolate her from the others.

And I doubt Father Micah is interested in fully exorcising her.

Oh god I love this scenario.

So I don't think Micah would actually make contracts with evil entities to curse you, but he would make you believe you were cursed. I can definitely seem him drugging you small dosages by giving you small snacks whenever you visit the church or run into him by "chance". He'd always play it off as a gift from the church or some leftovers from what they made for the orphans.

You wouldn't suspect him at all. Why would you? He's THE Father Micah. The beloved angel of the town since he was a kid. No human has seen him do evil deeds.

He would know exactly when the drugs kick in and when they are the most effective, and he would always be there at the right time. Talking to you, making you believe it's unnecessary to see a doctor for such mild sickness. Surely it'll get better if you pray.

It's not getting better even after praying? Maybe it was more serious than Micah expected, but worry not, he knows just the right thing to do. You just have to come to his house so he can bless you with his personal prayers. Why not at the church? Haha you wouldn't want to bother everyone there for such a trivial issue right? Don't worry, Micah will give you special treatment in his house, just trust him.

And trust you will, because everyone knows if there's someone you shouldn't fear it's Father Micah.

[cinnamonmilf]

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ rapid eye movement

summary: you meet ellie in a dream

cw: reader mentions she is an english lit major if u don't like it imagine she said it was the major of your choice, flirty friendship but no dating yet (repost from old account)

BEFORE YOU READ!!!:

WHY BOYCOTT TLOU PALESTINE LINKS DAILY CLICK

"Before you speak don't move 'cause i don't wanna wakeup"

The bright light was making it hard to keep your eyes open, not a single cloud in sight. It was a beautiful place, there was no denying that. Spring had always been your favorite season: leafy trees, blooming flowers, green grass and sunny days. If spring was a place, this would be it.

You decided to explore it, feeling the soft breeze on your skin. There was a big meadow, with a beautiful forest next to it. The bushy green trees complimenting the flowery field. There was something about this place that was so peaceful. Like you were the only person in the world and everything worked for you, rather than against you.

It would be a shame to leave so soon, so you take a seat in between the flowers and take everything in. How could a place so beautiful exist?

Your tranquil state is quickly interrupted by the sound of the grass and dirt being step on. You turn your head to see who the culprit is: a freckley auburnette with big green eyes and, for lack of a better adjective, an angelic face. You were prepared to snap at whoever had taken the sweet blissful state away from you, but after seeing her there was no way.

She doesn't say a word. She sits next to you. You'd usually not even consider just letting a random stranger make their way to you and sit next to you but this felt different. Saying that you had never met this girl before was an understatement, yet it felt like seeing an old friend.

Her presence was warm and pleasant, you felt safe.

"If you are interrupting my moment shouldn't i at least know your name?" you ask her with a playful grin.

"Fair enough. I'm Ellie." She chuckles.

You tell her your name and she nods in acknowledgement.

"We haven't met, have we?" you inquire.

"Not that I'm aware, but it-"

"It feels like it," you complete her sentence before she can, earning a smile from her.

"Well, l've never seen you around here. Think I'd remember a pretty face like yours," she says will a smirk on her face. You scoff in response, finding her antics amusing.

"It's my first time here," you explain.

"Hmm, when you'd get here?"

"What?" You ask with a puzzled face. And suddenly you realize you can't remember how long you'd been here, let alone how you got here.

Before she can even answer your question you wake up by the obnoxious sound of your alarm.

7:00 a.m.

The dream was uneventful, to say the least, but there's something about it that makes you think about it over and over again throughout the day. It was one of those dreams that bring you unexplainable comfort, like a tender embrace, like feeling like a kid again, like feeling some sense of home in there.

And, well, of course there was Ellie. You kept trying to think if you'd seen her before. Her face plagued your thoughts the most. You'd never seen anyone like her, you'd never met anyone like her.

Something about her made you feel like you could spend hours and hours with her and still crave her company. It was ridiculous, you'd spend time how long with her? Fifteen minutes? And yet, you'd never felt that way with anyone before.

Alas, it was a dream. Just a dream. She was just a beautiful entity your psyche had created. Maybe your brain knew it's what you craved and was cruel enough to give it to you in the dream realm, only to get it taken away.

You realized it was useless to dwell on your dreams, so you ended up putting the thought of Ellie aside and continuing your day.

That was, until nighttime.

The warm ambience surrounded you once again and before you could take it all in, you heard that raspy voice that had been echoing in your mind all day.

"You left yesterday," she said.

"Had to go to school." You giggle at her frowny face. She rolled her eyes at you.

"Yeah, well, I didn't get to ask anything about you." And damn her flirty tone because it made you weak in the knees.

"What do you wanna know?"

"Just tell me about you." She shrugged.

"Well, I'm 21, I'm in college, I like cats, reading, animals in general, l like the color green and...I'm pretty boring, don't have much more to tell you.” You chuckle.

"I like green too."

"Really? That's your take on what i said?" You laugh.

"What was I supposed to say?" She protests with a laugh.

"Whatever," you roll your eyes at her now. "What about you?"

"Well, I'm 22, I'm also in college, I like space, science, comics," she tells you, not really sure what else to add on to the list.

"Space?"

"Yeah, like, planets and stars and Nasa and shit."

"Nice, is that your major?" you inquire further.

"Yeah, astrophysics.."

"Just how smart are you?" You ask. Frankly, surprised by the girl.

"Shut up." She laughs. "What about you?"

"English Lit." You explain.

"Suits you."

"Is that good?"

"Yeah, it's good." She responds with that cocky smile that you have grown to love in a couple minutes.

She had a sort of charm you hadn't really seen elsewhere. It was quite boyish and youthful. She had you a little mesmerized. It was quite stupid, considering you barely knew her, but it was true.

"Do you-" and before she could finish her question, you were once again sucked out of your dream.

You groan in annoyance. Annoyed from being woken up, but mostly by the cold morning air reminding you once again that she wasn't real.

Your brain was creative, you'd give it that. Astrophysics is something you didn't even know you could come up with.

You do the whole thing again. Get up, brush your teeth, go to school, try to pay attention to school even when you all could think of were Ellie's freckles and her peachy lips and her pretty dark lashes and the way she had a bun this time, rather than the half-up half-down hairstyle she had last time. Also, about the fact that she was going to ask you something. What was she going to ask you? You could only hope you'd be blessed tonight once more and be able to dream of her.

And so as the sun came down you prepared yourself to go to sleep.

"Please let me dream of her," you thought to yourself. Pleading your subconscious mind.

You don't know when you finally fell asleep, but you were once again in the forest you had began to grow fond of.

"You have a tendency of leaving mid conversation."

There she was.

You turned to face her, "I don't really control it, you know?" You laugh.

"Yeah yeah, whatever."

"What were you going to ask me yesterday?" You ask as you softly kick her foot with yours, an affectionate gesture.

She looks down at your feet, pleased by it. Did the smirk ever leave her face or was it permanently there?

"I was asking if you have a boyfriend."

"Boyfriend? Ew no."

She laughs at your frowned eyebrows and your disgusted face.

"So you like girls?"

"Why? Are you gonna ask me out?"

You'd later cringe at your own question once awake. How on earth was she supposed to take you out?

"Maybe." She said nonchalantly.

"Right. Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Not to worry, all yours."

"You are kind of cocky, do you know that?"

"Oh, come on, you like it."

"Do I, now?" You ask with an incredulous chortle.

"I mean, you do get nervous every time, so l'd say so." She shrugged.

You could immediately feel your cheeks heating up. How could a girl make you lose your composure so easily.

"You are so annoying," you said, to which she just laughed.

-

Night became favorite time of the day from then on. All you did was repeat the cycle everyday: wakeup irritated, hope your day passed as quick as possible (not without reminiscing of your dream all day long), and go to sleep in hopes of dreaming of her again. And again.

And again. Which, to your surprise, you did. Every single night you dreamt of her.

Somehow your dreams went from feeling like minutes with Ellie, to feeling like a hours. In which you talked about everything.

She was the most fascinating person you'd ever encountered. She was smart as hell, funny, kind and of course, had that little cockiness that never really left her side. Which -she was right- you did really like.

Your dreams had always been quite vivid, but you had never appreciated it until now. You were able to really examine her face, hear her voice clearly, see the detail on her tattoo. You'd feel her hand against yours when you walked around the place, or her hair on your fingers as you raked them through her hair when she'd lied on your lap. Nonetheless, it was always accompanied by that soft and warm glow that came with the dream. You could only imagine how much more you’d cherish it all in real life.

And that was the problem. You were completely and absolutely enamored by a girl in a dream. A girl that didn't even exist. But how could you go on with your life knowing you'd never find anyone like her, knowing the perfect girl for you was nowhere to be found?

Life started seeming unappealing to you. Taking class, hanging out with friends, going out. None of it made sense. All you could think of all day long was the night. Every single hour you spend awake seemed like one more hour of you and Ellie being apart. It was eating you alive and you were allowing it.

As dusk arrived you went straight to bed and let yourself fall into a deep slumber.

Your favorite girl was there, waiting for you. You went to hug her. Ellie hugged you back, allowing herself to relax into your arms.

"Missed you," you whispered.

"You say that everyday," she chuckled.

"I miss you everyday," you giggled in response.

She took your hand and the two of you began your stroll. Admiring the trees, the lustrous pond, the flowers. It never got old.

Today you were telling Ellie about school. You mentioned how you'd lost interest lately, not really bothering enough to commit to your studies as you used to.

"Why's that?" She asked.

"I don't know. I don't really care about much lately. Not school, not my friends, not reading." It mildly concerned Ellie, but she didn't say anything.

"You must care about something," she said as she nudged your shoulder.

"I care about being here with you." You shrugged.

"Yeah, but, something else." She insisted.

You shook your head. You didn't want to lie to Ellie. She was the one person you could talk to. And the truth was that she was the only thing to seem worthy of your attention as of late. "I just wanna be here with you all the time."

"It doesn't work like that, doll," she cooed as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You felt a tear trail down your cheek, one that Ellie was quick to gently wipe off with her thumb.

She held you for the rest of your time together.

The next morning you slowly opened your eyes, trying to adjust to the change in lightening. You didn't feel vexed like every other day.

You had a tight knot on your chest that you couldn't explain. A fast-growing affliction that wasn't usually there.

After that night, you never dreamed of Ellie again.

-

It had been three months since you had last seen her. The first few weeks were pure agony.

There was a lot of crying and screaming involved. You were confused and angry and miserable. There was no way to fix it and you didn't even know what you were feeling.

There was no one you could talk to either. What were you supposed to say? That you fell for someone in a dream and now you couldn't deal with the fact that your brain wouldn't let you dream of her anymore?

You kept going to sleep every night hopeful of seeing her again, but it was completely useless. You eventually gave up, realizing it wasn't going to happen.

You were forced to resume your life. You focused yourself on studying, hanging out with your friends, going back to your beloved books. Everything was starting to go back to normal. And yet, there was not a single day where you didn't think of her.

You were headed to your favorite café. Wanting to get some studying done and leaving your apartment for a little bit. As you finally arrived, you settled on your favorite table, put your headphones on and got to work.

Truthfully, your table was a mess. Your computer open, books everywhere and sticky notes all over the place. But it helped you get the work done and that's what mattered most.

After a couple hours you decided to pack everything up and make your way back home, sleep finally sneaking its way up to you.

As you were walking out the door you heard steps hot on your trail.

"Hey, you left this."

Your turned around to see who the familiar voice belonged to. She was handing you a notebook, one you must've missed in the midst of your mess.

As you moved your eyes up to thank the kind stranger, you were met with those two piercing eyes that hadn't been able to leave your mind. The short haired girl with auburn hair, freckles and button nose was standing right in front of you, in the flesh.

It was Ellie.

-

a/n: hi this is a repost from my old account :) i’ll repost part 2 in a couple days and while i write part 3. hopefully it doesn’t flop massively

taglist @fleshunger @elsbunny222 @whore4abby

[katakaluptastrophy]

Continuing to think about the horror of what happens to John, and the horrors of love...

When Alecto has first been created, she says to him "I picked you to change, and this is how you repay me?" and "What have you done to me?"

They're heartbreaking questions she has every right to ask, but there's something awful and ironic about them too. Because John also might have asked "what have you done to me?"

It's easy to get distracted by the cartoonish awfulness of John's own narration: "talk about police abuse", "come on, love. Guys as careful as me don't have accidents," "love a working tram system." But all of these comments come after moments where John has unwittingly come into proximity with violent death, an experience he repeatedly likens to having drugs forcibly injected into him; an omniscient, dream-like, out of body experience that seems to propel him forward through his basest impulses. The first time this happens, he's brought back from "the verge of something insane" by being shaken violently by P-. Lines like these aren't revealing John's diabolical plotting. They're a man who would rather own atrocities as premeditated than admit that he was losing his grip.

The second is when he encounters the soul of the earth. His human mind makes contact with the incoherent, furious soul of a planet. In any other context, this would be straightforwardly Lovecraftian. And everything he describes after that is full of elipses, jumbled, and detached. His friends are shot by gun-toting cultists and he says it was like a dream.

Hearing the earth screaming, feeling his friends' deaths under his skin like a drug, he might well have asked "what have you done to me?"

Alecto said to him, "I picked you to change, and this is how you repay me?" But as everything collapses, John says:

"I thought you were going to take me, somehow. Purge me. Use me as an instrument. But you didn't say anything...I was babbling, Show me. Come on. I'm ready. You kept screaming and screaming..."

John has spent months becoming something terrifying, an entity with yellow eyes and uncanny powers. He's discovered that death has an overwhelming impact on him that he cannot fully control. Everyone was relying on him to do something. And he did so many things: well-meaning things and stupid things and things that were lashing out in rage and frustration. Hundreds of people have died because of him. His friends have died because of him. Surely, surely there was a point to this. Surely there was meaning. Surely whatever did this to him, made him into this, had a greater plan.

But there is no plan. There is no great revelation. He tries to hurt the earth, to provoke some kind of answer, but the screaming continues. And when P dies, the person who snapped him out of it the last time, John lets go and the whole world dies.

John is kneeling on the grass vomiting up dirt and tearing out his own ribs, saying "there was still too much of me that was just a human being...", trying to swallow the soul of the earth. And by the end, the one shred he has to hold onto is a memory of playing with a doll as a child. That, and his anger...

The earth tried to reach out in the only way it could, amidst its incoherent suffering. And John tried to use the abilities it gave him, but he was only human. Fallible and proud and angry.

She said, "I still love you." And the horror; the horror of love, the horror of this story, is that to begin with they did this to each other.

To be clear: I don't mean to diminish the awfulness or the very specific forms that John's violence against Alecto takes, and continues to take across the story. I don't mean to excuse his own self-mythologisation. I certainly don't think he's blameless for the decisions he made and the agenda he pursued. But if there's one thing that happens over and over again in TLT, it's that the horror of love is not a one-way street.

And I wonder, in light of what we now know about the permeability of the soul, quite where John ends and Alecto begins. And when that blurring began...

[megistusdiary]

I just read one of ur post from Apr 17th

"sit still, or i'll lift that little skirt of yours and punish you in front of them all."

So uh, pt 2 where she tries to call arle's bluff, doesn't sit still and ends up getting punished in front of them? 👀

i think this is the post you are referring to ♡

see, i think most of the harbingers would be like "yucky," but, guess who i think would stay and watch?...

(nsfw utc - tw transfem!arle, exhibitionism, mentions of childe wanting you, and allusions to chilumi)

childe (obviously), but also pantalone and columbina

the minute she shoves you onto the table, interrupting the meeting, most of the harbingers will leave, annoyed with the knave's distasteful outburst.

yet those 3 remain.

they stare down at you with hungry expressions when she shoves your skirt completely up, grunting and ripping it clean off you.

she's rough with you, constantly muttering about what a needy little whore you are, wanting her to fuck you in front of some of teyvat's most powerful entities.

she'll grab your chin or hair, forcing you to look at the lustful harbingers while she pounds into you, shoving you down harder into the table. the wood creaks beneath you, shaking with the force of her hips against yours.

they wouldn't touch themselves though, archons no. they'll just enjoy the little show she's putting on, eyeing the creamy ring you've formed around her base.

columbina will coo at you, mirroring arlecchino's words of what a pretty little slut you are, how arlecchino is so lucky to have such a needy toy at her disposal. what fun you must be to play with!

pantalone may jest with arlecchino, offering up sums of money for a turn with you. it's all in good fun in his mind. he doesn't really mean it, and he gets to hear you whine when she fucks you harder, posessively, into the table.

childe is just excited to be there, watching the girl he's been eye-fucking be ruined by such a formidable woman. part of him wishes he could have you for himself, the other part of him so desperately dreams of being in your position with another powerful woman who is always on his mind...

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Now Connecting... Cooper Adams/Abbott x F!Reader

Synopsis: Maybe the mysterious stranger next door isn't as grumpy, or shy as you thought.

Warnings: Smut, Mutual Masturbation, Sex Toys, Language, Angst, Shy/Grumpy Cooper at First,

Rating: M

Author's Note: Hey, what’s that over there? *runs away*

Word Count: 3K

Tagging: @rubyfruitjungle @cherryinterlude @lilly3434 @amethystblackkchaos @rosaleelovesdilfs @babygorewhore @dirtylittlefairytales @redpillbluepill @strangererotica

If you would like to be tagged for my fics, please fill this out

Vacations are suppose to be things of relaxation, not worrying about the mundane day to day. A time where you can let loose and be who you are, without judgement or differences. No one knows you, in fact you're almost like a ghost - here one day and gone the next It's fun, really fun to be that way - seeing people that you'll never see again. There is a rush being so close to strangers you have no idea what they will do, or what they will think - seeing you as a regular walker of life. Maybe the licks of confidence could be from the establishment where you were staying, or it could be from the mysterious people who wandered the halls like zombies. Suits, dresses, cases upon cases travelled up and down those carpeted halls - the echo's of business and pleasure radiating all around. There is no telling in where life will lead you all but, for some reason you are in this exact moment together - experiencing the same ticks and tricks with one another, though you may be rooms apart. Behind those closed doors, no one understands what each other are capable of - no how could they when it is all a mystery in the end? Business may be what brings them but, was it always as cracked up as it seemed? Was it really the type of business that you thought? No, of course not, it never was and it never would be in hindsight. But at the end of the day it was never your business, just move on and go forth with your time.

Getting the down time to take this vacation was the equivalent of pulling teeth. Your employer did not want to do anything in their power to let their best asset go for a period of time, then proceeded to get mad when you did not use your vacation time. It was a shit time all around - no matter what you had done it was like there was no pleasing the higher ups in a way. Not wanting to pay you out at the end of the year but still wanting you to take it - left you more confused and let down most days. Alas everything happens for a reason - right? It is possible to imagine the happiness and smirk on their face when you decided to take some well needed time off - leaving you to the suffices of the mortal realm rather than the hell hole you were about to crawl out of. For once it felt so nice to be free from all constraints of your job and be one with reality, not having to see the numbers or statistics of the bunch haunting your dreams like a demonic entity was enticing, calling your name further and further down in the end. You felt so relieved knowing you could walk away with no strings attached; No bosses weighing you down with out of work problems, or even being on call when jackass Todd wants to call out for another sporting event, (fuck you Todd!) This was your time now, one where you can remain vigilant and carefree; A life you have been destined to have. Your paradise was going to be in the shape of the United States. Specifically, Pennsylvania.

Philadelphia wasn't your top fifteen choices but, if you didn't visit your college roommate then she would've murdered you. Ever since the two of you graduated from your master’s program it was like the tides shifted per say; She had a new swanky job working as a full time pharmacist whilst you were working a 9-5 software job - building and breaking code - essentially being like Neo, but without sentient program agents trying to kill you. All of the excitement she thought this would be for you, she wanted to hear - in typical Marianna fashion after all. You agreed of course, and yet when you did you never anticipated the fact that she could get sick - especially for this day and age. It would be okay though, in hindsight it kind of needed to be per-say.

 The Embassy Suites would be your home for the next few weeks but that would be okay - everything was going to work out - it had to. In the back of your uber you watched as the blue skies molded into beauty with the sheer clouds - light speckles of greys and coal lacing the plush scenery; It would either snow or rain, a perfect lazy day in.

Disembarking from the car you waved your driver off, making sure to check out your ride whilst walking back to the hotel. Between the valet greeting you and the the concierge, you felt important, special in the eyes of strangers, a feeling so foreign to you. Out of the corner as you waltzed to the elevator's you could see the outline of a broad man; Chestnut hair in color, straight and slicked back, his jawline could cut glass. His autumn-colored sweater and mustard yellow jacket was something so basic, yet so enticing; Damn he could pull it off – he could make anything look good. Pads of boots could be heard striking the linoleum right in tandem with yours, causing your heart to race. For a moment you wished it was that mystery man residing at the check in desk with his suitcase - but then again you felt as if you were going to be too shy in the matter. Clicking the up button for the elevator you waited patiently, tucking your arms around your chest as you hum quietly. The footsteps stopped directly beside you, a pale skin form taking the same space up. Pulling your lip into a small smirk you swayed softly to this man's side, tilting your chin up to his tall form; "It's a good color on you," you spoke with sincerity, looking up at his gorgeous hazelnut eyes - wanting to dive into the journey of exploring them. Fuck, the fact that he had these little lines around his eyes when he smiled was so special - pulling you in closer as he flashes his toothy grin, the cutest gap sitting between. Nudging your shoulder with his upper arm, he spoke with conviction; "Thank you. Not as good as that blue though." The mystery man had a wink cascading over his form as the elevator doors open, his eyes once flicking to your exposed cleavage.

Following suit with his steps you pushed yourself into the metallic box after him - pressing yourself against the back corner as one does. Looking up at the numbered buttons you could see every single detail of this man's very large hands, causing you to swallow that pool of lust in your mouth; How would it feel to have his hands wrapped around your throat, or buried deep within you? Shaking those thoughts from your mind, you felt his intense gaze shine upon you - sending a warmth down your spine, noticing he was waiting for your floor number. "Uh, 15 please." You managed to choke out, not realizing how out of break you suddenly sounded. The man laughed as he nodded, clicking only the floor 15 button. "Well, looks like we are neighbors then. I'm Cooper." Holding his hand out for you, instantly you took it with a gentle grasp - shaking his hand up and down like a normal civilian, reciting your name for himself. Dropping it out of your own grasp softly, you giggled as you focused forward again, trying to keep your cool. "It is lovely to meet you, Cooper." Before he could respond, the double doors opened wide to reveal the plethora of rows where the elevators stood. Cream and burgundy colored carpeting stretched right up to the ends of every hallway, the soft material against your feet feeling like utter magic. It was a quickened shift when Cooper exited the elevator, nudging his head for you to follow.

"What room is yours?" It came out so naturally and free-falling, there was no pressure to shoo him away or even be weary of his intentions. Biting the inside of your lip you motioned to the left side of the hall, pointing to the 1500-1530 bracket, which caused Cooper to laugh. "Me too, room 1528." Your heart stopped in that moment, this had to be a fucking coincidence. "1527; Damn good job universe." It was a naturalized laugh that slipped from the mouth of Cooper, not forced or awkward in any way. It was nice to see a genuine human being after so many months of fake people coming through the wood works. The one thing that you did not like about this trek was that it was too short; Cooper and you came to your respected rooms far quicker than you anticipated. This was for certain that you would see him again - there wasn't a day in hell where you were going to let this man slip on by. Sliding your keycard over the tap screen, you sent Cooper a wink and closed the door, hearing his remain closed for a moment. There was a hefty sigh that was accompanied by thick words - ones that shot a spiral of heat into your aching sex; "Nice one Adams, way to ruin it with that cutie," Biting your lip at the phrase you pushed the deadbolt back into place, sighing out as you tossed yourself onto the bed. Staring up at the popcorned ceiling your mind could not help but wander at the thought of your next door neighbor; Those thick fingers so skilled and precise. His dialect so particular and pointed, the sways of his tongue with every syllable he annunciates. The small sweat breaking out on your forehead was enough proof that this man had taken over your mind, body and soul within minutes. The essences leaking from your clothed slit was not aiding in the fantasies.

Rolling over to your undone suitcase, you grabbed out your newest toy you managed to snag through TSA - smiling at how easy it was to conceal. You had always heard amazing things about the Satisfyer but now, getting to test it out, good lord you were excited. The enjoyment was bubbling more due to how this was app controlled - meaning anyone across the world could help make you cum. Turning on the device easily, you waited until the double buzz came to light before watching it connect - seeing the plethora of horny people piling in through your friend request. There was one specific name that caught your eye, one that really made your curious in the whole bunch. CA. The name itself was basic enough but, could it possibly be him? Curiosity piqued your interest when the message bubble came up quick after only a minute of accepting his request. Placing the air pulse hole directly onto your clit - you took deep breaths to calm yourself down, the excitement too much to handle. "Call?" The message read, causing your fingers to shake. With these apps you never really know who is behind the screen so to secure your identity, you hid your camera and mic - only planning to use it when you were so close to coming undone. Hitting that white button up top you waited and waited three rings, wondering if he would actually answer. "So, come here often?" the voice rang out, causing your cunt to become slick. It was YOUR Cooper. The smirk radiating through your mouth was enough to make a grown woman blush - devious in nature. Quickly you forked over the control of your vibe - only for it to be cancelled. It was just then that you were having the invite of mutual control, the equivalent of coming at the same time. Once you hit accept, it was over.

The slow buzzing of the vibration mixed with the soft punches of the air pulse caused your mouth to slightly hang open, accidentally unmuting yourself in the process. A softened whimper slipped through the phone as you upped the vibration a slight bit, hearing a guttural groan coming not from your phone, but next door. "Fuck sweetheart, you're so good. Faster, f-fuck faster please." The raw natured begging had you hitting another wave of arousal in no time at all, moving the device up an inch in the pink and blue - watching the gorgeous gradients melt into one another. It's when you slid your finger up to do so that you got see the camera angle of what he was seeing - his thickened cock slick with his own spit, the flesh light sliding up and down in waves onto his length. His cock was a bit darker than his skin tone but good god, you felt yourself almost coming undone just at that picture alone. "Aw, come on Cooper - be a good boy for me." You had no idea where that came from, something else possessing you in the moment. For a moment Cooper stopped moving the flesh light and flipped the camera to face him - obsidian eyes and a snarl lining the sight as you flicked your own camera on - showing him how your nipples were like rocks against the sheen of your tank top. Quickly you flipped the image to show you soaking wet cunt, dribbling onto the bed as he fucked with the vibrations quickly. "I should've known - Princess. You fucking knew how hard you made me on that elevator."

Something evil glinted in your eye as you focused on his face - how his face pulled up into an orgasmic stance, ready to blow his load. Seeing him so vulnerable and soft for you, it caused your whole body to tense. "Mhm, wish you pressed me against the walls and fucked me. Would've been screaming Cooper all day long." Toying with Cooper like this made you feel so fucking good, it was having the power over a man who was the epitome of sex in shoes that made you feel immaculate. Pressing Cooper’s flesh light up to the highest vibration and air pulse setting, you could see how his balls pulled up against his body - threatening to spill his load within the toy itself. You were not too far behind at this rate - your clit was being beaten like a drum and vibrating beyond belief. The white hot pleasure burned deep within the roots of your veins and you felt like you were going to fly. It took Cooper four good pumps before he was snarling, growling out at you - aiding you in your own release. With a quick few circular movements of your vibe - both of you were screaming in ecstasy. It felt as if a freight train hit the two of you, rocking your cores to the max level they could even ponder. Both of you were tossed from your own bodies, streaks of glistening lights flew around you in circles; Cooper’s cum shot so deep into his toy that it started to seep out around the edges. As for you, it was a quick work of drenching the bedsheets below you - thighs quivering with every passing second that you left the vibrator on your clit.

When the vibrations died down, all that could be heard across both of your rooms was panting - breathless motions as you tried to come back down from your highs. To say you both felt alive was an understatement - an outer body experience of this caliber was needed for two worry warts. Cooper was the first to break the panting silence, gulping down to alleviate the dryness in his throat. "That was...holy shit," Cooper let out with a small laugh, moaning as he straightened his back out against the memory foam mattress. You nodded in agreement due to your lack of being able to speak. The more Cooper exposed his neck and clamped his eyes shut - the more you wanted him, to feel him pulse between your legs, to ravish you for all that you are worth. So, as one does, you coaxed him forward with a proposal. Standing up from your mattress with only a tank top on, you started to glide straight towards the hotel room door, playing around with the deadbolt to catch Cooper’s attention. Like a puppy his head tilted and ears perked up, a sly smirk falling onto the corner of his mouth; "What do you think you're doing?" Cooper stated as he leaned onto his elbows, taking in the lighting against your complexion. Opening your door you quickly ran over to room 1528, knocking on the door with a grin - watching how Cooper scrambled to open the door. Upon arrival, Cooper quickly whisked you away inside - tossing your phone to the floor. Your arms came to wrap around his neck as his came to encircle your waist - not letting you go. "You ready for round two?" With that, you slotted your mouth against Cooper’s letting the door slam from behind you.

It was a fact that you would not be able to walk straight for the next four days, but boy would it be worth it. But what you failed to realize was the bug in your phone, the screensharing mode always active during your app usage. Your flight miraculously did not have anyone on it except you. Meeting Cooper wasn’t a chance, hell he lived in Philadelphia. No, it was calculated – it was meant to be. That’s because Cooper Adams didn’t just meet you – he has been watching you for months; Controlling your narrative of why you wanted to go to Philly. Your friend wasn’t sick, she didn’t even live in Pennsylvania…anymore. She wasn’t even alive at all. Just a pretty face in her camera roll, he knew you were the one for him.

[nightmaremonarch]

jojo’s bizarre fantasy au BECAUSE I LOVE PART 5 AUGHHHHHHHHH

i rewatched the entirety of part five in the span it took to make this. Details about the lore and characters below the cut ^_^

Ok. I will be separating this based on character… in an attempt to be more organized. Included will also be my friend’s description that she gave for each character upon seeing the drawing.

Giorno Giovanna — Race, half vampire. Stand name, Gaia. Unfortunately lost his silly victory rolls, which have been replaced with donut shaped curls. Has a dream of usurping the Crimson King and ending his oppressive reign.

Friend’s Description: “‘pink is still manly for this era guys trust’”

Trish Una — Race, human(?). Stand name, Spice. I like to think she tries to maintain an air of elegance and superiority, but she’s just a kid who doesn’t particularly want to be in the situation she’s in. The princess of an underground kingdom? No way. She just wants to be Trish.

Friend’s Description: “Noblelady”

Guido Mista — Race, human. Stand name, Coitus Cluster (good god the creative juices are NOT flowing). Best archer, like, ever. Probably enjoys animal furs but is too broke to get any. Stinky loser.

Friend’s Description: “Robin hood.”

Pannacotta Fugo — Race, elf. Stand name, Purple Death. Former nobleman and still dresses like it. Had to limit the holes in his clothes because he is, unfortunately, not immune to being sunburn.

Friend’s Description: “totally not a vampire”

Bruno Bucciarati — Race, human. Stand name, Strings of Fate. I love him. He’s the love of my life. I may or may not have put the most effort into his outfit. He’s so beautiful. No notes. Also, since zippers weren’t invented till like… mid 1800’s, rather than zippers, he uses strings!!! Tugs on ‘em the way you would a loose hem…

Friend’s Description: “Italian nobleman”

Leone Abbacchio — Race, drow. Stand name, Rewind. It takes the form of a snake!! Because Moody Blues had them.. neck thangs. I don’t know. Anyways. Abbacchio coulda been drippier, but at the time of drawing I was running low on brain power.

Friend’s Description: “TOTALLY NOT A VAMPIRE”

Narancia Ghirga — Race, human. Stand name, Pheonix. Due to the fact that airplanes did NOT exist prior to some point in the 1900’s, Narancia’s stand is a bird. Probably breathes fire and can detect carbon dioxide… cannot come back from the dead though. Sorry buddy. Also, his left eye is blind from his eye infection. Sorry again buddy.

Friend’s Description: “peasant working on a merchant ship”

AND FINALLY:

Diavolo — Race, Demon. The Crimson King. He took FOREVER to draw. Especially those tattoos. I tried to make his color scheme salvageable, but seeing as I was working with Diavolo’s actual color scheme… it is not the best. Diavolo used to have wings as well, but after an incident that prompted him to go underground, they’re gone. He hides in the body of a halfling named Vinegar Doppio… though they are two completely separate entities.

Friend’s Description: “Dante’s homosexual Inferno”

idk if ill elaborate more on this au. depends on the reception of this…!! this is all just for fun… goofs and gaffs… love u sorry for only posting wips for months before this

also in this au i think stands would be called spirits/be spirits ok that’s all fr now bye love u

[fingertipsmp3]

Had another sleep paralysis incident last night

[mixy-fancy]

Welcome to a colorful and wacky world.

🌈THE WORD OF DREAMS 🌈

Where everything impossible is possible just dream and smile.... Doesn't it sound fantastic?

In this colorful and bizarre world, everything is like your biggest dream and desire... Why would you leave?

Meet the partners! Cute creatures with crazy and unique designs also adapting to the unique personality of your best friend!

DEISY: a cuddly and stylish puppy plush toy! The biggest of the group, Deisy can't talk much, she only knows how to imitate sounds of her surroundings and say her name, she is the clumsiest and tends to trip over everything when walking.

BABO: a hairy monster with a very bad temper! With a very strong temperament, he is one of the tallest, Babo is very responsible although he likes to fight with his friend.

Felix: a charismatic teddy bear and monkey, he is slow thinking and tends to speak slurring his words, although he doesn't have much energy he is an expert at giving warm hugs.

Tati: a playful and cheerful little girl puppet! The smallest of the group, she is able to talk and do many activities even though her abilities and emotions are those of a five year old.

🌈BOSS 🌈

The owner and creator of this colorful and bizarre world full of dreams! Always with a smile ready to fulfill your biggest wish.

BOSS is not a human being.

He is an entity that can take on any appearance depending on his mood.

Although you will always see him in the appearance of an elegant man wearing a colorful and colorful suit.

The best friends of the partners!

Each one demonstrating their style and character. They are not perfect but they are full of dreams.

Know their nicknames!

Alexander: the displaced/new

David: the bitter one

Emilie: the giggler/ the crazy one

Elizabeth: the blonde/ Reyna bee

Marie: the lonely one

You too can be in this colorful world ! Just close your eyes and dream your biggest dream... Do you hear it?

Uuuf sorry if I was not so active but I came back mujajajajaja and with the excitement to tell you about my little project!!!! I will be uploading stuff, animations, comics and more !

Without more to say I hope you like it and I can make you smile!!!

I would really appreciate it if you share and comment !!!

[ashen-char]

so unfair

ship: amber freeman (scream) x fem reader

warnings: mentions of sex and underage (at least in america, where it's 21) drinking/clubbing

summary: drunk you thinks the way amber takes care of you is unfair if she doesn't let you do the same.

word count: 1500+

notes: amber taking care of drunk fem reader, as requested here <3

Hazy. The club is a blur of neon lights and pounding bass - the smoke machine misting everything and messing up your field of vision. You can barely see in front of you. All that matters is Amber anyways. The air is thick with the scent of sweat, her perfume, and that sweet smoky haze that makes everything feel like a dream.

Each beat vibrates through the floor and into your bones. Bodies are everywhere, a sea of movement, pulsing and swaying like a single, living entity. Every sensation feels fuzzy. Everything except Amber and the way she moves with you. The way she feels as your hands slide along her body.

You've been downing shots without a second thought all night. Amber had warned you to slow down - this wasn't her house, where you two could get sloshed without any consequence except her parents scolding you about getting into the liquor cabinet again. But you were having too much fun. The liquid fire burning down your throat was sweet, and thinking of consequences seemed absurd when you were with her. With Amber, things just went right. Felt right.

Some stranger bumps against you, messing up your rhythm as you were swaying with her. No biggie, and you can barely hear their slew of apologies. A giggle pours out of you. "No, no, it's alright," you tell them.

You can barely get the words out before you hear "get your hands off my girlfriend" from behind you. Amber's arm goes around your waist and you're sure she's giving this poor club goer a death glare. She's good at that.

"Don't be like that, Ams, it's not like they shoved me," you defend.

Your cheeks are flushed, you can tell because everything feels hotter, and it's probably half the drink and half embarrassment as the stranger walks off terrified of your girlfriend. She doesn't have to do this every time. You can take care of yourself. So you tell her as much. Or try, at least, your words are all jumbled in your drunken exasperation.

Amber rolls her eyes. "Uh huh." Hands going on your hips, you feel yourself being ushered away from the crowd. And look, you don't hate having a pretty girl's hands all over you but you'd be okay if she was a little less protective. Just a bit.

"People dance. They get bumped into. It's fine. I'm fine!" To prove your point, you pull your hand back from how she's dragging you. You can walk for yourself, thank you very much, and can follow her just fine. "See, no broken bones."

The stairs down to the club's bathroom is a little tricky, so you cling to the railing, glaring when Amber wraps her arm around you instead. It's when she presses a kiss to your hair that you melt into her hold. 

When Amber closes the bathroom door behind the two of you, the music is muffled. That fuzzy feeling remains, but it's quieter too. You see her grabbing wads of the toilet paper, cussing out the club for only having 'shitty one ply'. When Amber comes back over and tells you to get up onto the sink, you gasp.

"Here?" you ask, looking over to the door. Biting your lip, you weigh up the pros and cons of a bathroom quickie. "Someone could walk in..."

But oh well. You're up for some fun, especially when it involves your Amber. Leaning forward, you dig your thumbs into Amber's waistband, ready to tug it down and have at her. Mm. The taste of her on your tongue sounds even more delicious than the shots you downed, and you hope it'll go down as smoothly.

"God, you're a mess, babygirl." Amber sounds both exasperated and affectionate, both of which make you pout. Especially when she's grabbing your hands and taking them away from your attempts to unclothe her. "Not that I'm not flattered by the offer, but that can wait until later. Probably when you're more sober." Your pout deepens. It makes Amber laugh, and she kisses it away. "I'm just gonna clean you up. So get on there, now."

"Well, that's less fun," you whisper to yourself.

Palms on the sink countertop, you hike yourself up until you can sit comfortably. Curious eyes watch as Amber methodically wets a wad of tissues, dabbing it against your side, then does the same with a dry tissue. You didn't even realise that a drink had splashed on you when you bumped into someone. Whoops.

"Hanging with me isn't fun?" Amber asks. If you were sober, you could glean her sarcastic tone a mile away. But your mind's looser right now. Thinking less and saying more.

"I'm having a great time," you correct. "You know that. I have the most fun when I'm with you. Because of you."

"Uh huh."

She's cute when she's serious. Hell, she's cute all the time. Amber's got these pretty brown eyes that go all big and sweet only when she's looking at you. You, or some particularly gorey scene in whatever horror flick she's watching, but it's sweeter when it's you. Your drunk brain tells you that you should tell her.

"You're adorable."

"Yuck." Amber's nose scrunches up in distaste, because that's certainly not a word she'd like to associate with herself, but she's focusing on cleaning you up. She throws the tissues to the nearby bin before starting the process over again. "You sure you're not talking about yourself, cutie?"

Those eyes fix on yours. You think you could melt into a pile of goo when you're looking into them. That familiar fuzz from before intensifies, concentrating in your chest rather than your brain. Loving Amber can feel like radio static, like you have no words to say except for her name over and over. Your similes aren't even making any sense.

"Positive," you say, popping the 'p'. You grin when that makes her smile.

You wish sometimes that she could take the compliment as well as she dishes them out to you. You wish she'd see herself the way you do. Not as some tough protector whose only merit is to save you, but as Amber. Pure and simple. You wish she knew how cute and sweet she is in the simple moments, that she doesn't have to try so hard to keep your eyes on her. Maybe when you were sober enough to string those words and complicated feelings together.

When she's all done with wiping you off, and satisfied that your clothes won't stain or stink of alcohol, Amber helps you off of the counter. You let her pull you flush against her front, a sigh escaping your lips at the feel of her body holding yours. She smells good. And her chest is soft against yours. With the amount of shots coursing through your body, it's tempting to rest against her. Amber is your favourite pillow, be that in the afterglow after a satisfying hook up or in the peace of her cuddles.

"I wasn't pulling you into a hug, baby," she says, "I was trying to get you to the hand dryer."

"Oh." Amber's too comfortable for her own good. You squeeze her tight before letting go, just cause you can. "Yeah, I knew that."

Standing under the heat of the hand dryer, your girlfriend supporting your weight, you wonder what this night would've been like without her. You wouldn't have been as comfortable on the dance floor, you wouldn't have let yourself drink this much. You get playfully annoyed at her for it, but Amber's protectiveness is why you let yourself get so sloppy. Amber is the reason you can let go. You trust her.

You wonder if she trusts you too. She should. You'd do anything for her.

"I get to think you're cute if you think I'm cute." And-" a hiccup, "I get to take care of you if you take care of me."

Amber laughs. She thinks this is some random drunken thought. "What are you-"

"No, shhhh." Your finger comes up and presses against those full lips that you adore kissing. "Let me love you. Let me say this."

Amber sighs. "Alright, baby. Whatever you want." Her hand goes to your hip, thumb going to rub slow circles as she waits for your words.

You want to tell her that she doesn't have to tell strangers to back off because your eyes are only ever on her. You want to say that she can let go and have fun too, because you've got her back. That you cherish her. That she doesn't have to be tough all the time, not around you at least.

The hand dryer stops. You pat the once-wet spot on your clothes, satisfied at the dry feeling after Amber's efforts. When you look up, the words that were going to escape your mouth stop. She's so close, her eyes focused on you as she tucks a wayward strand behind your ear, finger grazing your skin so lightly. Amber takes such good care of you without even needing to be asked.

So you smile, and instead you say "thank you, Ams" and "I'll take care of you too, when you need me."

"I already knew that, baby."

Amber lays a kiss on your lips and it tastes better than any alcohol.