#there's just a lot i notice about myself now

[temiizpalace]

☆┊MAY I HAVE THIS DANCE?

SUMMARY: many heroes wished to share this dance with you, yet you chose him.

CHARACTERS: HEARTSLABYUL

GENRE: fluff

OTHER: heartslabyul savanaclaw octavinelle scarabia pomefiore ignihyde diasomnia

NOTES: thank you for an entire year, tumblr! as celebration for my first anniversary, have a small mini scenario as a token of my gratitude.

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

PROLOGUE ☆˙∘

excitement fluttered within the confines of the classroom. a nationwide gala was being held this evening for students all over twisted wonderland, and this years selected host was none other than the prestigious night raven college. you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous with how everybody spoke of such an event.

even if dances weren’t your thing, it was still worth it to go, right? “myah.. what’s with all the blabbering? it’s just a borin stuffy ball, right? all ya do is stand around for hours. i can guarantee ya not everyone’s gonna have a dance partner.” grim huffs, beginning to grow annoyed with the gossip.

“well, there’s going to be food from all over the region. at least then we’d have something to do, right?” you grin, your partner in crime suddenly very excited for the dance. “why didn’t ya start with that?! we needa go prep our outfits right now!”

evening came sooner than you anticipated. as chaotic as nrc was, somehow this was 10x as lively as usual. everybody had spoke with someone new while you were stuck at the snack bar with grim. a new face appears, wishing to have a small chat.

🌹┊RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS∘˙✩

“so you’re the magicless prefect, hm?”

a young boy leaned on the table, his unexpected presence startling you. “and you are..?” you question, curious as to how he knew you. he looked unfamiliar, but you couldn’t help but notice his pristine and well dressed appearance. he was handsome, certainly.

“where are my manners? amias reinheardt, a pleasure.” he smiles, bowing slightly before you. “i have heard lots about you, meeting you in person is truly an honor.” the way he spoke so highly of you was flattering, it was almost too much. but all his praise leads back to the same question: how does he know you?

“it’s nice to meet you, but how do you know me exactly?” you ask, raising your brow. “you’re quite popular. my classmate neige had many things to say, i just had to meet you myself.” he chuckles, and suddenly it clicked. classmate? “you’re from rsa?”

“correct you are.” he chuckles. now it all made sense. he was surprisingly chatty, but not in an off putting way. it was actually nice having someone not stuffing their face anytime you tried to talk to them. however, your chatter and laughter caught the attention of a nearby redhead.

“riddle, calm down.” trey sighs, seeing as riddle grit his teeth from afar. “what are you on about, trey? i am perfectly calm.” unfortunately, riddle was not raised as a good liar. “just go up to them, im sure it’s fine.” the boy in glasses sighs, adjusting them so they don’t fall off his face.

“it’s rude to interrupt conversations, you know.” riddle frowns, crossing his arms. despite his attempts to act unbothered, his gaze would still find its way back to you. seven why must you do this to him?

maybe he should just go over there. why fight it if there’s nothing to gain but seething jealousy?

a slow song starts to play, students suddenly stopping and taking their partners to the floor. amias paused as well, looking to you with a small smile. “oh? prefect, shall we?” he holds his hand out to you, waiting for you to take it.

riddle, on the other hand, was not going to stand for that. “[MC].” riddle struts over, causing you to whip your head over in his direction. “riddle?”

“may i have this dance?” he puts a hand behind his back, bowing slightly while reaching out for you. “pardon?” amias interjects, looking to riddle then back at you. “i believe i had asked first.”

oh. taken aback by their sudden proposals, you had to take a moment to ensure this is reality and not some weird vivid dream you were apart of.

you hesitate for a moment before taking riddle’s hand. “im sorry amias..” you mumble, shooting him an apologetic look. “don’t be. maybe someday..” he trails off, watching as riddle led you to the dance floor.

“at least try to be more cautious around strangers, prefect. not all of them have good intentions.” he sighs, waltzing you around the ballroom. his movements were refined, not perfect but not imperfect either. he made sure not to step on your foot no matter how bad your dancing may be.

“oh come on, he wasn’t a bad guy. maybe you’re just jealous.” you laugh, his silence a clear enough answer for you. his cheeks were red, but it was far too endearing.

“i wouldn’t want to share this dance with anyone else, riddle.” you hold a firm grip on his hands as you spoke, unable to hide your own flustered expression in turn.

“..im happy to hear that, [MC]..”

❤️┊ACE TRAPPOLA˙∘✩

“you [MC]?”

you turn to find a short boy invading your personal space, taking a few steps back to get a clear view of him. “uhm.. yes? and you’re.?” you answer, confused. his outfit was a tad disheveled, like it was barely put together. there were wrinkles and folds in his suit, but he had an odd charm about him.

“alan. alan fletcher. upcoming star player for rsa’s basketball team.” he grins triumphantly, his expression almost cocky. “ohh, i have a friend in basketball!” you reply, making the boy flinch.

“what?! err i mean, i heard a lot about ya. popular dude from school talks about you sometimes.” he shrugs, like he was reading your mind. you were just about to ask how he knows you!

“well there’s not much to know about me.” you laugh awkwardly, fiddling with the ends of your sleeves.

“yeah right, you’re from a different world! cmon, talk about it! im curious. what’s different there?” he asks, leaning on the table. it’s been awhile since you’ve last got to talk about home. with all the chaos at nrc, you’ve almost forgotten you’re trying to look for a way back.

“i guess there are a few things.” you chuckle, causing the boys heart to flutter.

ace frowned from afar, an unfamiliar feeling of jealousy coming over him as he stared. “ACE, THATS WAY TOO MUCH PUNCH! STOP POURIN.” deuce yells, his cup overflowing and spilling onto the tablecloth.

ace looks to deuce. he was absentmindedly scooping punch into his cup without realizing it. “gah, we need napkins! professor crewel would kill us if he saw this.”

while deuce was fretting over the spill, rushing over for napkins or any cloth he can find to mask the spill, ace felt lost. has he always been this jealous over you? i mean, sure he’s given a few dudes the stink eye every now and then, but this felt different.

the song changed abruptly, everyone now finding a dance partner or stepping off the floor. alan looks at you, waiting for you to say something. you try to avoid his gaze, his stare beginning to grow unsettling.

breaking the silence, alan spoke. “hey, do you wanna—”

“yo! [MC]!” ace shouts, running over to you with a cheeky grin. “been lookin for ya. cmon, let’s dance!” he grabs your hand, pulling you towards the middle of the ballroom.

“what?! hey!” alan calls out for you, but by the time you turned around to apologize, he was already out of sight.

you frown at ace, to which he scoffs in return. “what?”

“that was a bitch move, ace.” you pinch his nose, causing him to wince in pain.

“OW! look, we can apologize later. shut up and dance for awhile!” he chuckles, spinning you around.

“thought you were gonna dance with deuce. you jealous?”

“..i said shut up dance.”

(deuce was pissed to see ace leave him with the stain but at least you’re having fun).

♠┊DEUCE SPADE∘˙✩

“are you the student with no magic?”

a boy in a tacky looking hat smiled at you, making you stare for awhile before finding his eyes. aside from his hat, his suit was quite.. eccentric. colorful, for sure. somehow it all tied together, but he would most definitely stand out in a crowd. “i am..” you nod slowly.

“the names thistle!” he grinned, holding his hand out. as you reach out to shake his hand, he pulls a rose out of his sleeve and hands it to you elegantly. somehow this guy reminds you of a certain somebody in pomefiore.. interesting.

“are you familiar with che’nya? i know he sneaks onto your campus at times.” he laughs.

“i see him at unbirthday parties. didn’t know he talked about me so often.” you chuckle, finding the thought flattering.

“he tells me you’re from another universe. care to talk about it?” he asks, resting his chin on his hand.

“hm.. to kill time i guess.”

deuce stared at you, his expression blank and empty. you were laughing and having a good time, he should be happy, right? why does his heart ache so much?

seeing you with a rose in hand and a huge smile on your face would be such a breathtaking sight if it weren’t for who was next to you.

ace took notice of deuce’s expression, or lack of thereof. he smirked and nudged him gently. “looks like the prefect is hot on the market.” Ace teased, a cocky grin on his face.

deuce shoots him a glare, suddenly frowning at his partner in crime. “shut up! they can talk to whoever they want! im not jealous.” he huffs, crossing his arms.

“i never said anything about jealousy. yeesh, lighten up.” ace holds his hands up in defense, backing away slowly. “if you’re really upset just go talk to em. im sure your presence is welcomed with open arms anyway.”

“you think so..?” deuce felt his eyes lighten up, his gaze averting back to you.

the ballroom crowded to the center, students finding their partners to dance to the slow rhythm. thistle looks at you, putting his hand out. before he can even ask, a loud shout from across the ballroom stops him in his tracks.

“[MC]!!” deuce sprints over, stopping in front of you while panting for breath.

“deuce?! where did you—”

“WOULD YOU LIKE TO DANCE WITH ME?” he asks in between breaths, eyes shimmering in a newfound confidence. realizing he sounded a little pushy, he finally regulates his breathing and asks once more.

“uhm— i meant uh.. may i have this dance.?” he holds his hand out, bowing slightly before you.

you look to thistle, he smiled and gestured for you to take deuce’s hand. before taking off, you mouth an apology before turning to deuce and bringing him to the center.

“you didn’t have to run, yknow. i would’ve turned him down anyway.” you laugh, noticing deuce’s stiff movements.

“s-sorry. i guess i was just scared.” his dancing was robotic, missing his steps constantly. he stepped on his foot, but you managed to pick up the slack.

“ah! sorry!” he mumbled an apology, to which you grin in return.

“don’t worry, we can work on your dancing together. how about next week?”

“r-really?”

“really. consider it a date.”

“A DATE?! oh, i mean— sure. sounds good!” despite deuce’s attempts to seem calm and collected, he couldn’t hide the dopey grin spread across his face.

♦┊CATER DIAMOND˙∘✩

“so it’s true! nrc does have a student without magic!”

a startling shout from your right catches you off guard, turning to meet a rabbit beastmen with a huge smile. he wasn’t really wearing a suit, more of a vest. it wasn’t buttoned up all the way, but you must say he had really nice hair. looked so smooth.. “uh, tadaa?”

“what’s your name?” he asks, looking at you intently. “what’s yours?” you asked in turn, putting a hand on your hip.

“woah, woah, i asked first didn’t i?”

“well you initiated the conversation.” you shrug.

“alright, alright. im timothy parker, and you are?”

“[MC], nice to meet you.”

“i’ve heard so much about you from a friend of mine! we should get to know each other! have you played 20 questions?” he was a quick talker, you barely had time to reply before he talked about something different.

“i think ive played before.” you recall, nodding your head. “cool! ill start then!”

cater watched you, two drinks in his hand held firmly within his grip. he wasn’t one for jealousy, but something about this guy doesn’t sit right with him. his expression was usually so well hidden, but he couldn’t hide his frown. riddle took notice of cater’s dismay and raises a brow.

“cater, the drink might spill if you hold the cup so tightly.” riddle sighs, catching the attention of the boy beside him. “whoopsies! sorry, riddle! got a little distracted, haha!” he tries laughing it off, but that only makes him less believable.

“is something bothering you?” riddle questions, crossing his arms while looking in the direction cater was staring at.

“nope! don’t worry about it, cay-cay is fine!” he gives riddle a wink before walking towards you with a smile. “[MC]! heyy!”

you turn to see cater approaching, flashing a smile before waving enthusiastically. “cater!” timothy looks over, his smile faltering slightly at the sight of a new face.

“timothy, cater, cater, timothy.” you introduce them to each other. both boys stay silent for a moment before breaking the silence with a few casual greetings and fake smiles.

“hii! names cater, [MC]’s bestie!” cater hands you a drink, to which you eagerly accept. “hello. im timothy.” he replies dryly, much different than the way he greeted you.

the conversation flowed normally, though you chose to ignore their obvious distaste for each others presence. such cheery guys choosing to hate each other instead of bond, it made you kinda sad.

the music shifts to a slow song, cater immediately looking at you with a smile. “[MC], wanna dance?” he asks before timothy could, not failing to see his frown. cater put out his hand, gesturing for you to take it.

you felt your cheeks warm up. you put your drink down to hold his hand as he takes you away from the snack bar.

“isn’t this fun!” he beams, waltzing around with you. “i should take a photo!”

“if you do, you should send it to me. we can have matching profile pics.” you laugh, twirling him around.

“that’s so cute! smile for the cam!” he holds his phone up, snapping a quick photo of you two together. he posts it quickly, putting a string of emojis on the caption before putting his phone away and spinning you both around the room.

your smile means the world to him. it always will.

he didn’t want a viral post, he just wanted to keep your smile preserved for all time.

♣️┊TREY CLOVER∘˙✩

“boo!”

you jump, turning to find a floating head beside you. that head looked familiar. “che’nya?”

“meow how’d you guess?” suddenly, in the blink of an eye his full body appeared. his outfit was definitely not up to dresscode, lots of patches stitched onto an already brightly colored vest. it does suit him, but it feels like you were flashbanged.

“just a hunch. did you need something?” you ask, only to be met with his usual catlike smile. che’nya looked somewhere, grinning mischievously before averting his attention back down at you.

“wanna see a trick?”

“uh, sure?” and with that, he pulls out a deck of cards. he gestures for you to take one before suddenly changing the deck into a full tea set.

laughing in amusement, trey couldn’t help his heart from singing. why did his damn friend need to tease him like that? he clenched his fist tightly, feeling a little embarrassed for being jealous like that.

“trey-trey, let’s take it down a notch! che’nya’s just playing!” cater reassures his friend, patting him on the shoulder. trey sighs, adjusting his glasses properly.

“i know.. i shouldn’t even be jealous. it’s not like we’re together or anything.” he laughs awkwardly, making cater tut in response.

“don’t you see the way they look at you? when they bake with you it’s more than just being a helping hand, yknow?” cater crosses his arms, causing trey to stiffen.

“huh?”

“enough chit-chattt, let’s go join their convo!” cater drags trey to the snack bar, actively ignoring his protests and obvious refusals.

the melodies of slow violin play across the ballroom, students around beginning to slow dance.

“now’s your shot! go!” cater shoved trey towards you with great force. trey nearly fell to his knees but he managed to find his balance before he embarrassed himself.

“GAH!”

che’nya smirks, pointing behind you. “what?”

“trey?!”

“[MC],” trey puts his hand out for you. “may i have this dance?” a small smile hinted at the corners of his lips, you swore butterflies began to erupt in your stomach.

“it’d be an honor.” you take his hand, leading him away to the middle of the floor.

trey was surprisingly good at slow dancing. much better than that time with the ghost bride. “taking dance lessons, clover?” you ask, laughing as he averts your eyes.

“i’d rather not humiliate myself for a second time, haha.” he chuckles, swaying you around.

“i was honestly a little jealous seeing you have a good time with che’nya.” he admits, in which you burst into laughter in return.

“whys that? im sure you know he was just playing?”

“you can never be too sure.”

“don’t worry trey, this dance was reserved for you.”

“that’s reassuring to hear..”

A/N: names for these NPCS were harder than the actual fic 💀💀💀

date published: 11/27/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

divider found here! ☆

[thingsidrawgohere]

Alright. I'm calling it done before it kills me. This is Second Head. It's an Art Book containing instances of the phrase "second head" in fanfics found on AO3. I'll explain much, MUCH more in the cut.

So when I say 'art book', I mean this is an intrinsic piece. I have no motivations aside from personal amusement and interest in outcome. A lot of money was lost/transmuted into free frustration in this project and I have no claims, obviously. I will prolly be the only person alive to read this.

THAT SAID. I have noticed in my years reading fanfic, there's a few linguistic shibboleths that arise in authors who also have experience in the mines. I think there's not a soul alive who hadn't wandered across a 'ministrations' when reading Narutos oral sexing. There's- Hold on. Here's some pix.

There's an impulse, I think, to in-group even when performing a creative act. A feeling that there are certain ways one Should go about the act, by virtue of seeing it performed that way. Especially so when 'training' at the act is often just Doing. Double Dog Especially when the act is exclusively for oneself with very little oversight. Which is to say, we make what we see and we make what we think we should make. At least, at first.

Now, I've been noticing 'grew a second head' (to insinuate surprise) in fanfic for some time. I've never seen it used Outside of fanfic. That may speak to my own bad habits but it got me curious. So a friend and myself downloaded a mirror of AO3 from July of 2024. He did some code- Stuff to scan the mirror for "second head" and of the ~13 million works, ~70k (English) results were returned. That's a rounding error, honestly, but Far FAR more than I expected.

This book is 401 such examples that I personally selected for a variety of reasons. The number itself was arbitrarily chosen. Each page is separate fic, the roughly 300 words around our key phrase.

I don't think repetition or mirroring is a negative thing. I think it's quite charming. Nor do I think it's a sign of a 'bad' artist or 'bad' art. I think it's a signifier of personhood, of belonging, of enthusiasm. Of culture shared and wishing to share. I think it's real sweet. I always smile when I catch a 'grown a second head' in a work.

And it's really fucking funny when it's John Sherlock getting a sloppy toppy. Bless.

Edit: Fixed a very VERY funny error.

[softerwider]

Response: I need help. I have to think deeply and I do not know anybody who will help me. It is uncomfortable to think, and especially so when one must make oneself vulnerable to do so. But here it is: I'm trying to be vulnerable and explain myself clearly; writing my thoughts. I'm reposting this here because it gave me hope. It gave me pause. It spoke to me deeply. It is kinky--but it really carried a level of introspection about the nexus of kink and shame and power and disgust and pain and pleasure and arousal. Paperfeedee laid a finger on how these all share in a close connection to one another. Her post describes perfectly the insane network of social signifying practices and intuitions that I have, and that I always imagine other people have. Not everybody as I am. I mean to say that this post of hers was, is, and shall continue to be enlightening. I have been a part of the feedist kink scene since some time in the early 2000's. Scary to think of myself wandering all over the internet like that. But anyway, even so, all this never once thought that I have internalized fat phobia. And, just like is described in Paperfeedee's post, there are elements of my kink that I am now realizing that I might have to disentangle from that fearful place. I caught a glimpse of what that might be like. There's a complex story about why my kink is closely tied to fat phobia, and maybe I'll get to speak it someday, but I have always wanted to gain weight. I've always considered myself a feeder switch, but I've had some v e r y intense sex dreams about being fed and fattened--none have been about feeding others. And yet, for as much as I enjoy overeating, indulging in fattening foods, and the idea becoming fatter and fatter, I've never been able to do so. I've blamed my bad (very efficient) metabolism; I've blamed my inability to buy enormous quantities of fast food on the regular; I've blamed my partner for being unwilling to be my feeder. I never looked to myself. Each of these things (enjoy overeating; love fattening food; want to be fat) is also tied in significant ways to formative, stressful, and traumatic times in my life. I won't get into them now. Suffice it to say that each thing, for as desirable as it is, is also overloaded with shame, discomfort, and is incredibly connected to my libido. Here is the nitty-gritty. I do not want to demonize anybody, least of all myself, for having the particular flavor of fetish that they do. I think that shame, discomfort, and arbitrary over-significance play crucial roles in the way that I experience sexual pleasure. Fear and helplessness is singed onto the texture of my jouissance. But what I think is most salient about Paperfeedee's post here is that it makes the case for the way that identification in phobia is sustained by the fascination it makes of the object of its fear. Identification is a process whereby a relationship between more than one thing and itself is defined, sustained, and elaborated. So, when I see someone in the store buying groceries and I notice how fat they are, that they have a lot of junk food, and my mind goes racing as it is wont to do about what an unrepentant glutton this person must be (etc.), I have participated in the process of identification. Phobia is a kind of identification that places the thing that is desirable at as far a distance from the self as possible. This distant relationship is a relationship nonetheless. The "Subconscious Hint" that Paperfeedee mentions here indicates precisely the way that this distance is a relationship, and one of the most intimate kind. My most intense sex dreams (or maybe just all my sex dreams) are about getting fat. Yet I'm afraid of what people will think if I get fat; frustrated that I can't do it; worried for the consequences; don't have the right body for it; etc. SO I think that I have been afraid of getting fat. I have neglected to examine the ways that my interest in feedism and fat fetishism have sustained these fears. I have never looked at the way that these fears could sustain the fetish.

I think that I have gleaned something about how the 'subconscious hint' leads to the inversion of the phobic dynamic in my personal case. I PROMISE that I will be thinking about this post for a very long time to come. I'm sorry if you are already tired of hearing me go on and on about this shit, because I am going to be on this for...ever? But to come back to the main point of this thread: I need help. I would like to use what I've learned here in order to examine the way that I sabotage my weight gain. I may try to gain weight, I may just allow myself to identify with the fear-object in a way that is emancipatory and also erases the fear from the relation. I can let someone else be afraid of my fat ass! I can hear that shitty fat-phobic comment that someone makes about how much I am eating and feel butterflies or go find a room and jerk off about it. I have become that which I rejected. I have embraced the part of myself that I shunned. I do not want to use my fetish as an excuse to sustain fat phobia. The point is that I will need help in thinking about this. (And also maybe tell me I'm looking fatter.) Thank you, and have a good night.

back when I was still thin and had yet to discover the whole "really into making myself unrecognizably fat" fetish, I still had like, a preoccupation with fat people that usually alternated between being super judgemental and being terrified that I'd get fat, which was like, definitely some kind of subconscious hint at like, man, I'm going to find out something crazy in a couple of years, but anyway

I distinctly remember grocery shopping with one of my friends in college, and seeing a woman who was pretty fat buying like, little debbie cakes and whatnot and just like, could not stop talking about it to my friend, could not let go of it, could not stop harping on "how does a person let themselves get that fat? how can you be that fat and not be trying to lose weight? how are you not embarrassed to be that fat and be seen buying those?" Even my friend had to ask like, what is your damage with this random woman?

anyway, obviously that wasn't cool of me and I've clearly gone on my own ✨️journey✨️ with confronting internalized fatphobia since then, but like knowing now that I have fully become that woman in the grocery store is like, part self actualization, probably part karmic retribution, and all like, getting to live a peak horny fantasy for me now, and I'm so here for it

(especially since my favorite grocery store is right next door to this really big, really nice gym, so it's just me and all the Lululemon wearin ass pilates baddies at the grocery store together)

[bonezone44]

'Dirt Clouds'

Joel Miller x F!Reader wc: 1098 Summary: You and Joel talk about your age difference on the way to a barbecue. a/n: real love makes an effort. (part of @iamasaddie 's 24-hr writing challenge. )

-------

You’re not sure how many dirt roads it takes to get to this barbecue Joel’s driving you to, but each one is bumpier than the last. One of the potholes back there sent your sunglasses bouncing all the way off your nose and up onto the top of your head. Joel mumbled a quiet apology when it happened and started gripping the steering wheel a little bit tighter. But there’s only so much the man can do along these unpaved and barely maintained back roads.

Shit, it’s been ages since you’ve been this far out in the boonies. Last time you were out here you were going mud-riding with your friends on four-wheelers. Afterwards, it took two whole hours to get all the red Mississippi clay outta your hair and another two to feel like a human being again. And last time, you knew everyone. They were your best of friends. This time, you’re going out there to meet a bunch of strangers. A bunch of Joel’s friends. And for the first time ever.

Part of you feels as if you should be more nervous than you are. But being with Joel has made you face a lot of things about yourself–about what you want and what you need from life. About whose opinion matters to you and whose doesn’t. You know you don’t have to win his friends over. You don’t have to win anybody over–you don’t have to compete with anyone’s ideals but your own. You sleep very peacefully at night with Joel by your side. And you won’t let anyone tell you to want any different.

The music coming out of the truck’s radio sounds like low static compared to the creaks and thunks coming out of the truck itself.  Joel’s eyes are so dead-set on the road in front of him, you’re surprised he even noticed when you nearly lost your sunglasses. He keeps adjusting his grip on the wheel. He sees you staring at him and is quick to quiet your thoughts.

“I’m fine,” he says, flicking his hand.

You giggle. “They’re either gonna like me or they won’t. I am not worrying myself about it.”

“I’m not worried, either.” He deflects so fast that you know he’s lying.

“Joel,” you laugh and roll your eyes. “Everything is going to go just fine today.”

“I know.” His brows are terse and he side-eyes you as if he’s offended you were assuming things weren’t going to go just fine. Kinda like he’s obviously been doing the whole drive out here.

You smile and shake your head, looking out the dusty window at the wall of pine trees lining the pale yellow road. The sun is high in the sky–not a cloud to be seen. It’s hot enough outside that even in your tank top and cut-off shorts you feel your thighs sticking to the leather seat beneath you. You’re tempted to grab a beer and cool off a little, maybe hold the can against Joel’s cheek to cool him off, too, if the bead of sweat dripping down his jaw is any indicator of how he’s feeling. In the middle of your decision-making, though, the truck hits another pothole and sends you flying.

“Shit!” Joel eases the car to a stop. “Are you okay, baby?”

 Your head tapped the roof on that one and you’re not sure where your sunglasses went. “I’m fine. I’m fine.” You grin and rub your crown.

“Are you sure? We can go back home if we need to. You just tell me and-and-and we’ll go.”

You throw your head back with a laugh. “Joel!” You’re grateful he stopped. Now you two can talk face to face without him trying to hide himself. He’s so full of nerves that it’s just silly at this point. You reach out and grab his hand. It’s thick and callused and warm. “What is going on?” You try to show concern, but there’s still an amused curve to your lips.

Joel melts. The way you look at him is like a warm balm over all the sore parts of himself. He can’t hide anything from you. He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t have to. He knows that he can say what’s on his mind and you’ll listen. You’ll make an effort to understand. He just gets all up in his head about things sometimes and forgets to open the door and let you in. He grits his teeth and sighs. “I’m just worried about the guys… sayin stuff ‘s all.”

“I can take care of myself,” you say with some attitude.

He smiles. “I know that, baby. I just–” He stops. His mouth opens, but the words don’t come out. 

You already know. “It’s the age thing, isn’t it?”

His shoulders fall.

“Joel, look at me.” He does and you get real stern and in his face. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby–”

“No–I love you.” Now you’ve got both of your hands holding his one. His hands are so big that it takes both hands to cradle his one. “I know you. You have been nothing but kind and respectful and supportive of me. You have been more generous with your time and understanding than anyone in my life has ever been. And that’s a fact.” 

Joel’s chin rises. His lips tighten. His eyes soften.

“People are gonna make up all sorts of shit about us.” You shrug and shake your head. “And there’s nothing we can do about that. But these are your friends, okay? And once they see us together, it’ll all make sense.”

He sighs. “I just don’t want you gettin’ hurt.”

“If I get hurt, then I get hurt.” You shrug again. “I’ll get over it. ‘Cause I got you.” You smile. “You make me feel safe.”

“And if that ever changes, you tell me.” His lays his other hand on top of yours. “You tell me so I can fix it.”

You giggle. “I know, Joel. I know.” 

He’s more than proven himself to you over the past year of your time together. Your own flesh and blood was never as patient and dedicated as this man has been. You weren’t giving him up for anything. You inch forward and move in to kiss him and he meets you half-way. You love the poke of his facial hair around his pouty lips. You love this man.

“Now, come on. Let’s get going before the ice starts melting in those coolers.” You grin.

“Okay, baby.” He smirks. “Let’s go show ‘em.”

----------------

[sulumuns-dootah]

can I request a Paimon fic where they and MC go on a picnic date?

Paimon x gn!Reader - Chocolate covered strawberries♡

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: I haven't written anything for Paimon in so long and only now realised how much I missed it! No relationship is specified, but it is one where you two are okay with a lot of physical contact ^^

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

'Y/N~! Come quicklyyy! I'm at: ' a rather alarming message from Paimon read. The lack of emojis or any other indicator of tone or context made you worried about their safety after they sent you a location which indicates they're on the outskirts of Gehenna where angel attacks are more common.

Your fear is quickly replaced with confusion once yous tart nearing the place Paimon sent you. There are no signs of angels nor attacks. Instead, upon getting closer, you notice Paimon under one of the gorgeous, ancient Hell oaks on something that looks like pink tartan blanket.

It takes a second to shake away the adrenaline from thinking you're rushing to help a dying demon and only after the initial shock you finally realise what's actually happening.

"Pai, what is this? You almost scared me to death! I thought you were getting attacked!" you scold the adorable demon, still catching your breath from running most of the way and then having to climb the rather steep hill.

"Oh~?... I'm sorryyy, Y/N! I didn't mean tooo... It's just that I noticed that the chocolate on the straberries I made was starting to meltttt." Paimon sadly pouts, looking down at the red fruit in their hands.

Looking around you notice all the various foods and snacks alongside two full wine glasses and a bottle of your favorite drink. A... picnic?

Paimon notices your puzzled expression and giggles while getting up from the ground, handing you one fo the glasses that are now in their hands, "Well~, you did say nobody's ever invited you to a real dateeee, so I wanted to be the first oneee!"

"Aw, that's so sweet of you! Thanks!" you light up and accept the drink handed to you. Your legs slightly shake from the workout as you're sitting down while trying not to spill your drink.

"I hopeee you like what I've gotten for youuu! I asked His Majesty Satan to help me pickkk~!" Paimon takes their seat beside you and you only now realise why all of a sudden Satan liberated you of all duties for the rest of the day. He knew all along.

"Don't worry Pai, I'll like whatever you've picked for me! Sometimes you even know me better than I know myself!" you smile widely with genuine happiness.

"Aw~! Y/N~! You're so cuteee!" the demons queals and squishes their cheek against yours. A sweet smell of cotton candy and fruity bubblegum only now reaches your nose and it reminds you why you like Paimon so much. Their cheery attitude is a breath of fresh air amongst all the demons with dark auras.

The two of you sit, eat and chat for so long, the sun's gone down and the first shy stars start appearing on the darkening horizon. When you first came to Hell, you didn't expect to see stars with Heaven right above you, but as it turns out, there are visible stars, and even more beautiful than those on earth.

"Y/N~ I'm glad you're hereee. And I don't mean here as in hereee, but here in general~! You make us all so happyyy~" Paimon sighs, leaning back against a pillow next to you as you're both staring up at the millions of glowing dots.

"Aw, Pai! I'm super glad to be here too!" you giggle and lean back next to Paimon who pulls you in for cuddles.

As the night progresses, the two of you eventually fall asleep together only to be woken up in the morning by Zagan who was tasked to go look for you to make sure you're both okay.

[msunitedstatesjames]

Ranking Veilguard Companion Questlines:

This ranking is truly based off how much I enjoyed the questlines overall, not how much I like each character. I liked all the companions and overall liked their quests, but some really stood out to me more than others.

7. Neve

Neve was one of my favorite companions in terms of personality, and depending on the choices you make she can have a really interesting role in the endgame. However, her quests felt kind of bland and one note to me. Evil blood mages are kind of old hat in the DA games at this point, and Aelia just didn't really stand out from the crowd as a villain. There were some pretty gruesome moments in the final quest where Aelia is puppeting people, but overall I just didn't find these quests to be super memorable.

6. Harding

This one should probably be higher up the list just for its lore implications, but for some reason I just didn't feel all that engaged with her storyline. I guess I wanted a little more. Harding implies that she's struggling with her powers, but we're never really shown much of that, other than the fact that she has confusing dreams now. She talks about her anger in regards to the Titan revelation, but again, I think we needed more. She only really seems angry for brief moments here and there, which makes it a little hard to believe when her final choice is pretty much whether or not to hold onto her anger. She does talk about how she's kind of a people pleaser and likes to seem cheerful as a result, but if that's the case they still coild have done more with that.

5. Bellara

Going into this, I had to remind myself about some of the details of Bellara's storyline, because other than the situation with her brother I didn't immediately remember her plot. The problem I have with her story is that sometimes it feels like there are two separate issues at play, the Archive and her brother. They do end up being connected, but it feels kind of loose. Dealing with the feelings of betrayal and grief in regards to her brother did add an important emotional resonance to her story, so that helped rank her above some others. The choice you make in the end feels very meaningful in terms of the world, but we don't have the chance to see it play out in any meaningful way within the game. I would have liked to see a noticeable shift of some kind, at least in Veiljumper territory, based on Bellara's choice, but all we got is one moment in the finale where the game has to tell us we're seeing the results of her decision.

4. Lucanis

Lucanis's storyline had some pretty cool scenes. The Ossuary. Going into his own mind. Confronting Zara. But considering everything he has going on, at times his storyline seemed like it needed more fleshing out. This dude is a non-mage possessed by a demon. Is that ever really explained other than by the fact that Zara was just a freaky, evil experimenter? We've had so many characters in DA with absolutely nightmarish experiences with possession, and honestly everyone is just pretty cool with Lucanis and Spite just being a chill partnership, maybe because he's not a mage. I know there are comments about how people probably aren't actually cool with it, Lucanis says as much about the Crows in the end, but we don't really get to see that. It might have been interesting for there to be more tangible tension between Lucanis and those around him based on his demonic possession.

3. Taash

I really struggled with where to place Taash's questline, as some aspects felt quite weak and others felt deeply meaningful. In the end, I surprised myself by ranking them so high. When I immediately look back on their questlines, there doesn't seem to be a lot there. Taash hunts around for some dragons, has dinner with their mom, and finally in the end fights the Dragon King. Taash's story is perhaps less related to the overall plot of Veilguard than any other character but Emmrich, which didn't necessarily help. And though I find Taash's quest for identity to be an important one, it doesn't lend itself to the same kind of excitement as some of the others. Still, emotionally this series of quests ends up doing a lot of heavy lifting. Specifically, I found Taash's relationship with Shathann to lend a lot to their story. Even if you can't relate to Taash's struggles with gender or identity, almost everyone can relate to the struggle between a parent and a child. I was never quite sure what to think of Shathann. And I think that's very real. When I look at the parents of my friends and loved ones I often see the duality of everything they've done out of love for their children and everything they've done that has harmed them. At times I found Shathann to be caring and protective, at other times to be borderline abusive and too desiring of control over Taash's life. And though this situtaion might be extreme compared to many people's experiences with their parents, there's an almost innate toxicity to all parent child relationships at one point or another, as a child tries to grow in one direction that might not be what the parent wants or hopes. And I think these quests walk that thin line we all tread at one point or another in our lives, where you have someone that you love even when you feel that they don't deserve your love or deserve you, but you still can't help but care about them anyway. But in the end Taash does love their mother, and when Shathann dies Taash's rage feels very real, as does their entire relationship dynamic throughout the game.

2. Davrin

Davrin's story benefits from being perhaps more closely tied in to the world and the story of Veilguard than any other. The Grey Wardens and the Blight have always been central to DA, and only Origins has made them more central than Veilguard did. But Davrin and Assan really did steal my heart. At first, I didn't find Davrin to be especially exciting. He seemed like just another stoic warrior type. But the more time you spent with he and Assan and the other Wardens, the more you came to love him. The Gloom Howler storyline, along with the return of the griffons, was fascinating and the stakes felt extremely high. The stakes felt so high in fact that I often wondered how Davrin remained so calm as Rook paraded around the Necropolis Gardens or Arlathan while the Gloom Howler was off somewhere doing who knew what to the world's only family of griffons. The choice you made about the griffons was honestly the hardest in the game for me. Many of the other choices felt obvious from a typical heroic video game character sense of morality, where the game designers seem to want you to pick the happy, cheerful, forgiving route over any other. But the griffon choice had no obvious answer to a question I didn't even expect to be asked, and I stared at the screen for a while before I made it. My one problem with this is that it felt bizarre for Rook to even be making such a choice. And the other good thing about this quest is that at least you get to visit with the griffons a few times after the choice to get a little taste of how your choice is panning out. The interesting thing will be to see if this choice plays into any future DA stories and games.

1.Emmrich

All right, I can't even pretend to be unbiased here. If you scroll through my blog you will see countless Emmrich posts. This dude was my unexpected romance choice and my unexpected favorite companion in the game. He has interesting commentary in most situations, his voice acting is delightful, and he stands out as a fresh and unique character among many wonderful DA companions over the years. But this is supposed to be about his questline, not just how much I adore him. I've written extensively about my love for these quests elsewhere on my blog, but I'll restate the basics here. His questline had one major thing going for it from the very beginning, that being that we've heard much about the Mourn Watch and the Necropolis, but have never had the chance to experience any of it. I was immediately intrigued to learn more about them. I very much expect a certain dark and spooky vibe from Necromancers, but in many ways the Necromancers in this questline defy expectations. Yeah, they're still kind of weirdos who love everything to do with the dead, but Emmrich is a kind, compassionate weirdo and Hezenkoss is, despite being the villain, kind of just a dorky chick. And yet, somehow this makes her the best villain in the game. She's evil. She tortures souls. She wants to embody a giant skeleton and rule over Nevarra City as a giant, immortal skeleton queen. She wants to commit murders because her peers are too dull, too stupid, or have committed plagirism. She has weird little gestures she does as she discusses her evil plan. She uses overdramatic, stereotypical villain language like calling everyone "fools" and complaining about Emmrich's "sanctimonius bleating." She completely believes that Emmrich is the main character in this story, he must be because she believes herself to be the main villain. She's just as much of a nerd as Emmrich and equally as skilled, and in fact reflects quite poignantly the atrocities Emmrich could have committed if he wasn't so deeply compassionate. She's an extremely memorable villain compared to others in the companion quests (and even the main quest), and she's all the better because she helps define Emmrich that much more clearly, which is exactly the job of a good companion quest and a good villain. She's so good that she's even brought back to bicker with Emmrich from beyond death for the rest of the game. All that, and I haven't even touched on Emmrich's big choice. The lich choice is so effective because it forces Emmrich to confront his very clearly stated worst fear, death, which is doubly interesting considering his occupation. It's also such a good choice because it presents you with an immediate and tangible effect, unlike many other quests. Either you save Manfred and Emmrich remains mortal, or you lose Manfred and Emmrich transforms into an immortal skeleton. Either way, you're bound to notice and feel the difference. Even without a major main quest connection, this storyline was just so well done.

[halfmouse]

I watched a video about this once. It’s your nasal cycle. Not everyone has one. Some people have equally open nostrils at all times. But lots of people, myself included, have a nasal cycle.

Most of the time, or at least most of the time for most of us (this doesn’t include me for reasons I will get to in a moment), don’t usually notice that one nostril will be narrower than the other and that they switch which one it is periodically.

However. If you are congested from a cold or allergies or other things like that, you absolutely will notice because the one partially blocked nostril will be fully blocked by mucus and inflammation, so you won’t have any air going in or out of that nostril at all.

And me? Ha, I have allergies to things that exist everywhere, and I have non-allergic rhinitis to boot! So I’m always at least a little congested! Some days are better than others of course. Right now, despite the fact that I’m at the tail end of having a sinus infection on top of my usual junk, my left nostril, despite having noticeable levels of congestion, still lets a tiny bit of air in, at the top. But on days where grass pollen is high or there’s air quality issues or there’s more dust mites and alternaría mold than usual or I’m in the thick of an illness or whatever, I can sometimes have one nostril entirely blocked and the other with just a little pinhole gap to let air in and out.

It’s great it’s great it’s fine it’s okay everything is good /s

Colds be like:

One nostril: works perfectly

The other: they have taken the bridge and the second hall. We have barred the gate but can not hold them for long. The ground shakes, drums… drums in the deep. We can not get out… they are coming.

[evilvvithin]

FOR THE COLLECTION

pairing: asa emory x f!reader warnings: stalking, violence, description of blood and gore, Asa is cute few times that's a warning in it's own, smut but faintly words: 4,421 summary: When he first saw you, Asa thought you'd make a nice piece for collection, but not exactly in the way as other unfortunate victims - you'd be his perfect final piece.

notes: One shot fic but could be turned into multiple chapters later. I made multiple time jumps in this without specifically describing it but i like the story telling it creates. I really just wanted some Asa so started writing and writing and.. :) AO3 link || masterlist (pls don't read my old fics i am not proud of them)

It was finally the day - the day when a huge art gallery opens in your city. You were eager to go as you loved art and everything around it, not even caring all your friend turned you down on the invite at the last second. Despite them all coming up with various reasons as to why they can't make it, you knew they just didn't want to come - it was boring to them. They didn't appreciate the art. It wasn't disappointing though, you expected to go alone, again.

Losing yourself in the paitings for what seemed like hours, inspecting every single brush stroke and techniques, you were so lost in yourself and the art you didn't notice a man constantly following behind you. You've noticed him in the gallery before, but nothing really stood out about him - he looked very ordinary, but well groomed and kept overall, dressed in a simple black suit. 

He loved the way you stood in front of each display for long, making sure you saw every detail in it. The perfect imperfections. The perfections. You looked so peaceful standing there alone - the world around you disappeared. You tend to do it a lot, but he already knew that as it wasn't the first time he saw you at grand opening like this one.

“Fascinating, isn't it?” He nonchalantly said right behind your ear. 

You jumped, heart raced a little, looking at the man observing the painting now standing right behind you. 

“How they created such masterpieces without all the modern technology. Masterpieces that live forever. They were geniuses. All the years and no one could beat them to it.”

You smiled at the man, nodding. “I agree. I just can't get enough of it despite seeing the art so many times. It feels different every time you look at it.” 

“This one especially is my personal favorite.”

“Oh, same!”

The two of you looked at each other, excitement pouring out of you. You were here alone, mesmerized by the art - so was he. He was quite attractive now that you focused on it - casually looking but clean. Simple, attractive man with smooth yet sharp facial features. 

His phone beeped and after checking it quickly, he sighed annoyingly. “Have to go.. but would love to chat with you about art more.” 

You felt the heat running to your cheeks. His straight forwardness took you by surprise. 

“I-me too. Yes.” You mumbled out hoping he doesn't notice your awkwardness and reddish cheeks.

He himself felt a little awkward despite presenting himself so confidently - his way of getting girls usually didn't include talking to them trying to impress them or invite them out. 

“Can I have your number, then?” He smiled and handed you his phone in which you typed it. 

“People usually exchange socials and stuff,” you said and returned his smile.

“Oh, yeah. I myself find phone numbers more.. intimate. People don't hand these out publicly like their socials.” He let out a chuckle as he saved the number you gave him. The chemistry between you two was almost visible in the air. “See you later.”

“See you!”

What. An. Interaction.

Watching him disappear around the corner your heart pounded as if you just realized what happened, but you were definitely going to give it a shot and meet him. If he actually called you later as he said that was it. While you hoped he would actually invite you out, you couldn't shake the feeling it was just another fail. Maybe you were too awkward and he was going to rethink his choices later or it was one of those guys just collecting numbers anywhere they go. 

Oh, you were so wrong.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to ignore all that happened and focused on the art again. 

Later that day just when you got out of the shower and were ready to sleep, your phone vibrated on the nightstand. Your eyes widened in excitement as you saw an unknown number on the screen - must've been him. It was a text message, short and simple, inviting you for dinner at a nearby restaurant, with a wish of good night to you at the end. 

Maybe this could work out. Maybe good things were finally happening to you. 

Looking forward to it. Good night - you replied and giggled. 

The date went so good you refused to believe that it was actually real. 

He brought you flowers, somehow knowing exactly which ones you liked and what color. The food was delicious, the atmosphere magical, the tension between you only growing and more exciting. 

Not only the first date, all the other dates you two had were unbelievably good and enjoyable. Asa Emory, as he introduced himself, was smart and talkative once you get to know each other more. He felt comfortable with you and enjoyed his time, making him almost unable to stop talking. He was a professor - his way of talking sold it out before he even told you. He knew how to capture attention and what to say at all times. You could talk about anything for days and never get tired or run out of topics. It felt like match made in heaven.

You learned he was an entomologist later, right before you two started to date officially. You had an idea he had something to do with bugs when you saw his van, at which he had “Deratization” logo. Sometimes when he had time he went around and cleaned people’s houses from the bugs he liked so much. He restrained from telling you, scared you'd back away and feel disgusted, but the more he got to know you the more he knew you weren't so easily squeamish. Your love of horror and terrifying stuff in general might've been weird and off putting to many, but he loved that. You had that morbid curiosity in you, it just needed to grow to its full potential like when a cocoon turns into a butterfly. Though you weren't fond of bugs, you didn't completely despise them either. He thought maybe over time he could get you into the beauty and fascinating world of those little things. 

You also loved his dogs, German shepherds; he had a great taste in everything. Anyone loving animals as much as he did was a good person in and out. Asa used to be so childish around his dogs but at the same getting little annoyed when you spotted him.

“I like moths,” you told him once at a night ride through the city and he laughed for so long. 

Everyone loved butterflies if anything, but moths? Not so common. 

Oh, you were perfect.

Moths, the creatures of the dark and death, yet so fragile and beautiful. 

He was intrigued by you whole. In his eyes deep down you were just twisted as him, but unlike him you didn't let your creativity go free - yet. 

Despite all the tension and strong chemistry between you two since the very beginning, you didn't get physical till later on into dating. It meant way more to both of you, more intimate. Almost like you wanted to just fully enjoy the growing lust, enjoy every single bit of the act itself later. You've never felt so naked infront of anyone before like before Asa. It was so sensual, wild, but also incredibly sweet and romantic. He made you feel like you would crumble into pieces, your whole body shaking as he took care of you - in and out. He felt like exploding every time you touched him, the way you wanted him and lusted for his touch like no one ever did. The feeling that you needed him. 

You visited him at the college often, sneaking into his office room having fun often. Both his room and his house were full of colorful exotic insects, framed carefully behind a thick glass. It made you feel uneasy at first, especially all the giant spiders, which he found funny, but you got used to it pretty quick. They were quite fascinating after all, you had to admit. 

One day you decided to surprise him at his house. Knowing he was teaching till the evening, you timed it so you'd arrive at his place shortly before he would. Buying some snacks and wine on your way, it was unusually cold that evening especially as it was getting darker. You just hoped he wouldn't be late. 

Of course he was. 

You regretted not asking about his work that day even though it would ruin the surprise. With your ice cold hands turning white and purple ish, you checked the time again. Either you go home or use his spare key he told you about. Despite you being together and treating each other's houses as your own, it didn't feel quite right to you to just enter without him knowing. The dogs knew you already of course, not barking or growling, just tipping their little beans on the floor behind the door eager to greet you, their tails aggressively wagging. You waited a little longer anyway, but not seeing any sign of him and your legs starting to shake from the cold, you reached to the plant pot and dug up the key. 

A weird smell immediately filled your nose upon entering, making you gag and cover your face. A mixture of chlorine and alcohol that sat in the house as no windows were opened the whole day. You never smelled anything like that there and while thinking it was weird, you simply brushed it off. It must've been his etymology thing - sometimes he prepped his own display or cut them open to study them. After giving attention to the puppies, you prepared the snacks and wine on the table in his living room, still unable to get rid of the chlorine smell despite opening the windows for a while and decided to investigate. The density of it was stronger upstairs and near the basement. 

When will you be home?

You texted him and immediately received a response.

Work's busy today, it might take a while. Why?

I have a surprise for you.

I'll come as soon as I can. 

Asa squinted his eyes at the screen thinking about what surprise you had in mind. It didn't take him long to realize the reason you asked when he was about to be home was because you were waiting for him there - it was the most logical reason in his head.

“Fuck.” He let out through gritted teeth, jaws clenching together.

You just had to choose this exact day to come over. This exact day when he was working on his collection. He planned to show you his little hobby eventually, with your consent or without it - didn't matter. He was nearly certain you'd do it all willingly and be on his side, help him create the collection. He didn't even plan on actually falling for you when he saw you for the first time, but now that he wanted you to be part of his collection? Part of his journey? His life? 

Sitting in his van all in black with a custom balaclava mask on, a muffled screaming echoed from the back as he punched the wheel. Screams of a young woman stuck inside a little box - a second piece for his collection that week. The first box was already in his house, hidden in the basement with thickened walls in case anything went wrong. Asa did some work on the unfortunate man earlier that day after telling you he's at work. The guy made some mess and he had to clean it up, now wondering if the smell inside the house dissolved already. He turned his head to the back of the car and hissed loudly, making the muffled screams stop. 

Tonight was going to end only in two ways. He cursed silently and started the engine. 

When he arrived at the house and tires screeching cut the silence in the neighborhood, he saw a very faint warm light coming through the windows. Taking his mask off and running his hand over his eyes in an attempt to get rid of the black coloring, he rushed inside the house not thinking twice. The black around his eyes now smeared but still there and squeezing the mask in his fist, he looked like a maniac. Inside his house was quiet, nearly uncomfortably quiet. The table in the living room decorated with wine glasses, bowls of snacks and candles, giving the entire room the faded warm light he saw from outside. 

But where were you?

Your shoes were left right next to the door so you must've been still inside. The dogs didn't rush to the door to greet him - yes, they adored you, sometimes he was jealous. Asa stood still for a few minutes, carefully listening to any noise you or the dogs could make. His patience shortly after rewarded, he heard some faint rustling down below his feet as if a heavy object was being pushed around.

The box.

Rushing down to the basement stairs through the doors you left open before, he found you there exactly as he thought he would - trying to move the box around to open it. 

“Oh, you're here.. Do you smell it?” You said and inhaled the chlorine air again coming strong from the box. 

“I had to clean some mess in the morning. Thought it'd be gone by now,” Asa replied and laughed nervously. “Rather unfortunate the smell is still present. Can't just leave my windows opened while I'm gone.”

“It's horrible, I couldn't even get it out by opening the damn windows - arhh it's so heavy!” You finally let go of the box and looked up on him. “Oh wha- what's all that on your face?” 

He smeared his eyes again with his hands making them similarly black. You couldn't hold your laughter when you imagined it's one of those non washable body make-up and he would have to go to work with the black around his eyes. He laughed too, it must've looked comical without the mask on. 

“What's that?” You pointed at the balaclava in his hand.

“Ah -  nothing. Just a mask. Why don't we go upstairs and have a great night? As you planned?”

While that was your initial idea and the reason you came here, now that you discovered the smelly box you were dying to see what's the source of the awful stink. And why did he have a damn mask on top of all that?

“Yeah we'll go,” you nodded. “After I check the box.”

Reaching down towards the lock his hand flew to your arm to stop you, pulling you harshly backwards. He stood between you and the box now, walking towards you making you back off till your back was pressed against the wall. You let out a moan as the air got pushed out of your lungs. 

“Or how about we have a great time right now right here?” Asa's voice all low and whispery. 

“How about you put that mask on?” You smirked, not fighting him at all.

He grinned - of course you'd ask something like that, you fucked up little thing.

You felt how wet you were getting just from the way he held you locked in one place, his weight pressed against your hips. He placed his knee between your legs and brushed against your core, making you whine and already almost beg for more. Now with the mask on and the black paint covering any skin that'd be visible otherwise, he looked quite sinister - at the same time so hot. You didn't care about the chlorine smell anymore, you didn't care about the wine or snacks, you didn't care why even he was dressed like that with a balaclava. 

There was nothing else except you and him at that moment.

The whole set up and weirdness of the entire evening made the act between you two only stronger - you've never felt so eager to feel him before, not even the first time. To fill you up. There was something fishy about it all, but with each thrust of his - hitting your pelvic - the thoughts were disappearing; soon your mind just blank and your eyes unable to focus on anything. A chill running down your spine feeling his hot breath at your neck, his hands gripping you harder and harder with each sound you moaned out. He felt you slipping under him, his own legs getting shakey as he was close to finishing while you moaned yout his name.

God, you drove him crazy. 

He was so happy when you just passed out on the couch - time to finish his business silently. Couple glasses of wine should make sure you sleep deep. It was even colder outside now; his sweaty skin and clothes from before only made it worse. The second he opened the back of his van, the box shaked as the woman inside kicked around helplessly; yet she was silent other than that. A dose of narcotics made her body go fully limp. Asa chuckled to himself - her vocal cords were probably dead by this point. No one could hear her outside the van, as long as the cloth was deep down her throat; and he made sure it was. Yet, some people still tried to scream not realizing it's to no effect. He found it amusing, fascinating even. The lengths the human beings go when faced with pure survival. He wanted his subjects to obey, but not give up. 

Shuffling the box inside the house, he found you in the same position as he left you with your shallow, relaxed breathing. Tucking it right next to the other box in the basement, he locked the doors carefully, saving the key in his pocket. Tonight ended up differently than he planned at first, but it still met one of the scenarios he expected - you just not finding out anything.

You never asked him about that night, about the face paint, the mask, the boxes. The next day when you woke up they were all gone together with the smell. Asa himself never mentioned anything himself. Obviously. In his head, it didn't matter if you asked or not because eventually you'd knew about it all. When? Didn't really matter. He felt you were already ready nevertheless, but he was still waiting for the right moment. 

Days, weeks, months went by. 

When there was a chance, you two spent all your time visiting galleries or at his place. Sometimes you wondered if he gave up his hobbies except teaching since he had so much free time for you - not like you minded, you enjoyed every single minute of it. During that time, numerous TV news stations reported a serial killer on the loose as some missing people were found dead, again. He always laughed and said you were safe with him, nothing would ever happen to you when he's with you so why pay attention to the news? You didn't pay much attention to it at that time when it came on the news.

Not until the police knocked on your own apartment asking about Asa. 

“He was with me, yes. All the time.”

“Are you sure?”

“Excuse me?”

“It is known you two are in a relationship, ma'am. Don't cover for him.”

“I am not covering up for anyone. I'm telling you he was with me at that time. We were at the grand opening.”

“And what about here?”

“That was our date at the restaurant.”

“Alright.”

“What's going on? Why are you asking all these questions?”

“We can't share much details while the investigation is still going on.”

“Is it connected to the murders?”

“We can't -”

“So it is. You think Asa did it?!”

“Well, he is one of many suspects in this case. Anyway, that'll be all. Thank you for your time ma'am.”

Your mind circling back to that one night where you discovered the box, the chlorine smell. Asa with his mask dressed all in black, black paint around his eyes. The random times he had so much work and then almost none. The latex gloves you found in the trash later but didn't think twice about them. Grabbing the phone you were about to text him, but thought it'd be safer to just meet him face to face. The police could've been monitoring phone activity of both of you. You didn't even bat an eye at all the weird connections and the police coming to you - all you needed was to talk to Asa first.

Standing in front of his front doors, it took a while before he pulled up with his van. He gave you a confused look at why you were outside in the cold. Without a single word you just got in, taking the passenger seat and motioning to him to drive - and so he did. You didn't care where you were going. After a while you sighed and asked: “Did police contact you?”

He didn't seem surprised or anything. “No, why?” He replied casually as if you talked about the weather.

“They came to my apartment a few hours ago. Asking about you. Asking about where you've been on specific days and times.”

He was silent, focusing on driving. 

“Did you do something?” 

He clicked his tongue at the question as if he was annoyed. So that was it - the time he shares everything with you.

“They said you are one of possible suspects for the disappearances and murders,” you continued, gaze fixated on his unmoved side profile. 

He turned the wheel and stopped in front of a huge abandoned warehouse, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Loud barking started, echoing sharply through the silence of the night. The entire place was like a ruin, the building itself half destroyed. The barking got louder and louder and you saw two german shepherds running towards you, recognizing them immediately. 

“What are they doing here?” You asked and got out of the car to greet them. 

“I bring them with me when I'm working.”

You paused for a moment, your fingers buried within the dog’s fur. “Working?”

That uneasy feeling creeped up on you, realizing you might not know Asa as much as you thought you did. 

“Please-”

“Wanna see my collection?” Asa said suddenly and reached his hand out, which you took without hesitation. 

“I'm confused, you know.” You sighed and followed him, his dogs running around causally familiar with everything. It was their second home.

Despite everything, you trusted Asa. You loved him and always stood by his side and you didn't plan on changing that. Approaching a rusty metal door, you saw like 6 locks hanging at the frame - what could possibly be inside that it needed to be so safe? The dogs squeezed in and ran into the distance, disappearing down the hallway; they were certainly familiar with everything; so was Asa. Following the dog's path, the familiar chlorine smell hit your nose. It wasn't strong at first, but the deeper into the building you got, the stronger it smelled. 

“Is that blood?” You looked down on the floor. 

He remained silent, holding your hand tighter. The uneasy feeling shot through you again like a wave; putting the pieces of the puzzle together you started to think his hobby wasn't only etymology and art. Entering a well lit room, you felt like you walked into an ongoing mortuary. The room looked like a morgue, even having the freezer boxes in the wall. A bloody mess of what seemed like a woman before was spread across the silver table in the middle of the room. Your stomach didn't twist, nor did you jump. You just stood there with an emotionless face, observing. The longer you looked at the mashed redness the more you doubted it was actually a woman. 

Asa on the other hand observed you, his whole body tense and ready if you tried to do anything stupid. He was pleasantly surprised seeing you not panic or scream at the scene in front of you. Leading you to the shelves on the side, you were met with a bunch of live tarantulas inside glass jars. You shivered a little seeing the 8-legged freaks crawl inside and Asa couldn't help himself but laugh. 

“That's what gets you?” He kept laughing. 

Next to the spiders were more jars but filled with various body parts in a liquid. From eyes, tongues to fingers - you name it. Your heartbeat raised once your sight landed on a jar with a woman's head inside, more likely belonging to the bloody mess you've seen just a few seconds ago on the table.

Asa still waited, still doubted you were so nonchalant about everything - maybe you were only playing it. “So?” He whispered, not letting his eyes off you. 

You didn't say a word - you were speechless, as if in a tranz. Letting him lead you further into the warehouse, you were surprised how well maintained it actually was on the inside. He clearly spent a lot of time here. Finally you entered a big hall, followed by the dogs wagging their tails happily. The entire room had a blue tint, every bit of it filled with giant fish tanks full of - something.

“The Collection.” Asa said proudly and his hand flew across the tanks showcasing his artwork.

You had to admit - there was beauty in the morbidity. The creativity and sense of detail that went into every single corpse was phenomenal. There you were once again - losing yourself in art, forgetting the world around you existed, just like the day Asa laid his eyes on you. Torsos sewed together with 4 pairs of arms or more. Two headed legs. Half skinned people with their ribs decorated. You went from one tank to another. Some of the faces - if they had one - you even recognized from the news. 

“Beautiful,” you whispered, making him smile in delight.

He knew you were the one. Since the beginning.

Asa was never really touchy or cuddle type, but now he hugged you tightly and held you for so long, not wanting to let go. You were his masterpiece, the final piece to the collection that didn't need to be any modified to be perfect - just as you were. His collection was far from being finished though, but with you by his side? 

He felt like the collection was already whole.

[ghouljams]

how does one become free of insecurity? i’m already doing therapy but i feel i’ve only moved away from hating myself so much i want to d*e into just thinking everyone’s better than me

It's a long journey, but well worth it.

I don't think anyone is ever truly free of insecurity, but I think there's also a lot that is unpacked simply through the language we use to describe ourselves and the jokes we allow other people to make at our expense.

Therapy is great at helping you deal with the big feelings, but sometimes little things get caught in your head and it's hard to shake them. Here are some things that I do to keep myself feeling good, and also some things that I'm working on:

No suicide jokes. I make it a point never to joke about "oh I'll just kill myself" or anything like that because ultimately it just makes me feel worse and nobody finds it funny. It's also a good way to change your thinking and direct your solution brain away from "I'll just end things when shit gets hard." This one is a constant battle.

I compliment myself whenever I have the chance. I take every compliment someone gives me. I pretend to be vapid and self-absorbed. I make kissy faces at myself in the mirror. I tell other people how pretty I am, and I don't fucking care if they think I'm a stupid bimbo because I'm trying to love myself and that's more important.

Being kinder to my younger self. This one feels weird but I found myself being mean to little Ghoul when I was really sad. It feels easy to take out your anger on a kid that didn't know any better, and it doesn't guilt you because that's you that you're hating. But look. You were just a kid. You weren't stupid or ugly or unlovable or evil, you were a kid. I just caught myself calling my teenage self ugly the other day on my way to visit my mom and I had to stop and go "why am I saying this? I was just a kid." And it made me cry a li'l bit ngl, but if felt... idk it felt good in a way.

Don't let fucking anyone tell you, you're not worth it. Does your friend make jokes about how dumb you are? Or how you're so cringey? Or so embarrassing or bad at something or forgetful or WHATEVER? Yeah, fuck that noise. Tell them to stop doing that. Tell them it hurts your feelings and if they still don't stop they aren't your friend, they're your bully. I fucking hate bullies. Don't let anyone talk down to you, I don't care if it was a joke at first, it's not funny anymore. Fuck them.

This is something I'm working on, but when you start fixing one insecurity another will probably pop up. I've been working for a long time on liking how I look, and it's gone really well. But now I'm insecure about my intelligence. So I have to stop myself from calling myself stupid or not answering questions. I just fucking rocked my work trivia party, and Mr. Ghoul thinks I'm smart, so I just gotta keep track of my wins. Sometimes you realize that making yourself secure in one thing makes you insecure about another, but that's ok! There's a learning curve to all of this.

Everyone thinks everyone else is better than them. You don't have to be the best at everything, you don't even have to be the best at one thing! What's important is that you're doing your best. People notice when you're working hard, even if you're not churning out the best product because it means you care about it. Which brings me to

Done is better than perfect. Sure it would be great if you were God's most specialist soldier, but think about how much work that would be! Ok so you're not the world's best knitter, but the scarf you made your friend is their favorite scarf anyway because you made it. So you're not a world class writer, but you had a story in your head and you wrote it down. That's better than it never being written at all. Also just because you think it's bad doesn't mean other people won't think it's a masterpiece. Hell, half of the fics I wrote when I first started this blog I could write better now but that doesn't make them bad, it just means I've gotten better.

We as humans are constantly improving and evolving. Don't let who you are no stop you from striving towards who you'll be in the future. Taking one step down the path towards loving yourself is better than giving up and hating yourself forever. It's slow going, but man I've been doing this shit for a decade and I'm so much happier than I was at 18.

You might think that the more you improve the harder and faller you'll fall back to the bottom, but the lows don't get that low again. You're doing great. I'm proud of you.

[eowynstwin]

I've come to the last thing I'd like to talk about, and unlike the rest it's something I've already made progress working through. I want to try keep this subject brief, because 1) it's taken a LOT out of me to get through all this and 2) even so, it's helped, and I'm ready to move on. I just don't want to leave anything important to me unaddressed.

So, I mentioned that when I returned to this blog, it felt like everyone had moved on from the Myka issue. I didn't see the same kind of support when I came back as I did when I left—and maybe it seems presumptive of me, but I had been expecting it. There was precedent, after all.

And I'll be honest—it took pretty much all the wind out of my sails. It kind of felt like it didn't matter if I was here or not—like, outside of the Myka issue, I hadn't actually made enough of an impression on anyone, with my own work or my support for others', for them to really care if I came back. Which, considering how many people were there for me when I left, I believed I had. That belief felt pretty misplaced after that. And to put it mildly, that did not feel good.

At the same time—and I've already talked about this in the past, so I don't want to retread old ground too much—I noticed a drop in engagement with the new work I posted. I understand now that that involved a lot of factors—my long absence, the change in my url, general fandom trends—but because it happened around the same time as my return, it compounded that feeling of my irrelevance.

So as I’ve been writing this whole time, and posting, I’ve lived with this undercurrent of god I hope this is good enough for them to care about me again. I felt like I had never actually been good enough for anyone to think of me outside of the Myka incident. I couldn't enjoy my own work without thinking none of this was ever good enough. I got to the point where I couldn't enjoy other people's work without thinking everyone likes them, but they don't like me.

Now, obviously this is unhealthy. It's also patently untrue, as demonstrated by the support I and my work have been given in the months following my return.

A part of me kind of cringes to discuss this at all, because it feels unfair to the people who've offered that support—I don't want anyone to feel like I haven't appreciated it, because I have. But I lay all this out to lead to the conclusion I've come to, which I want to share, because it feels like the gateway into finally leaving Myka, and all of these things I've been feeling, behind for good.

I've talked to friends since then, gotten context, and I've evaluated my tenure as a whole in this community in effort to understand.

The thing at the core of this issue is that my confidence was shaken. Both by the incident itself, and everything that followed it.

While it was happening, I was under a microscope, and found inadequate. I couldn't talk about it, because that would only make things worse for me. When I came back, I felt like I was still under the microscope, and I still couldn't talk about it—and in addition, it seemed like I had earn my place here again.

Feeling like that has made it really, really hard to enjoy being here. But I know that feeling isn't entirely rational. And if I don't want to feel that way anymore, I have to let myself say the things I need to say and make the things I want to make, and I have to let myself enjoy doing it.

I want to be here. Despite everything, I still belong here, even if I don't feel like I do. I've been so afraid to talk about Myka all this time, really, because I didn't think any of you wanted to hear about it. I thought it would drive you away.

But I've talked about it now. And you've all listened. So that means I'm allowed feel confident about everything else.

Thank you.

[arixella]

A Day Under the Sun

pairing: Luffy x reader

a/n: none

wc: 500

contains: fluff

The sun is warm on my skin, and the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the Going Merry fills the air. It’s a perfect day. Not a cloud in the sky, a gentle breeze rustling through the sails, and the crew is scattered about the deck, doing their usual thing. But I’m not paying much attention to them. My eyes are focused on one person, and that person is sitting on the edge of the ship, legs dangling off the side, gazing out at the horizon with that wide, carefree grin of his.

Luffy.

I can’t help but smile to myself. He’s always like this, always full of energy, always finding joy in the simplest things. Even on a lazy day like today, he manages to make everything feel like an adventure.

“Hey, Y/N!” Luffy’s voice cuts through my thoughts, and I look up to see him waving me over, his smile growing even wider. I can tell he’s been waiting for me to come join him.

Without hesitating, I walk over and sit next to him, letting my legs swing over the edge of the ship too. The breeze feels good against my face, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of just being here with him.

“Whatcha doing?” I ask, glancing over at him.

“Nothing!” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Just looking at the ocean. It’s so big, Y/N. I wanna see all of it someday, all the way to the end of the Grand Line!” His eyes light up at the thought, and I can’t help but laugh.

“You’re always thinking about adventure, huh?”

“Of course!” he says, puffing out his chest with that proud, goofy expression. “That’s what pirates do! We go on adventures!”

I chuckle, nudging his shoulder lightly. “And what about right now? Don’t you want to enjoy the moment, too?”

Luffy tilts his head as if the idea of enjoying the moment is a bit foreign to him, but then he flashes that big, bright grin and shrugs. “Sure, why not? The moment is fun too! But it’d be better if I had meat,” he adds, looking around like he’s hoping a giant roast chicken will magically appear.

“You’re always thinking about food too.”

“Yep!” Luffy laughs, unfazed, and then his grin softens a little, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “But being here with you is good too.”

I blink, a little surprised by his words. For a second, he’s not the goofy, always-hungry pirate captain. He’s just Luffy, sitting beside me, and the warmth in his gaze makes my heart do this strange little flip. I try not to let it show too much, but I can feel my face turning a little pink.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” I say, my voice quiet.

Luffy doesn’t seem to notice the sudden change in my mood. He’s already back to grinning, jumping to his feet, and striking a dramatic pose. “So! Let’s go have a competition to see who can eat the most meat at dinner tonight! I’m gonna win!”

I laugh, shaking my head at his boundless energy. “You’re on. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you’re the one who’s stuffed.”

He sticks his tongue out at me, then grabs my hand, pulling me to my feet. “C’mon! We’ve got a lot of meat to eat, and I’m not gonna let you beat me!”

I let him drag me across the deck, laughing all the way. Even if I didn’t know it at first, I realize now: being here with Luffy, in this moment, is an adventure in its own right.

[pubes-xxx3]

i haven't written fanfics in forever but this came to me in a dream after seing more and more Tom Taylor/Cregan content.

i'm not a native speaker and i'm not willing to go to length to write proper english, so this is all i can offer.

this fic is loosely inspired by my own backpacking trip where i was stuck in a train somewhere in austria and things would've been so much better if they ended up like this:

A Game of UNO

everybody has had a crush on a stranger on public transport, right? this is a story about how briefly meeting one of the most handsome men ever has turned your life upside down (always wanted to use that cringe sentence somehow lol)

warnings: a bit of smut, fingering, cunnilingus, handjob, blowjob, semi-public 'sex'

words: ~8.5k

this is set in the modern world, somewhereon the tracks of eastern europe.

also loosely inspied by this story from toms insta because if that man was sitting in front of me in a train, i would forget myself

https://x.com/tomtaylorfiles/status/1832120778034237528?s=19

you struggled as you tried to squeeze past multiple other patrons trying to find an empty seat, your backpack getting caught on door handles or in tight spaces as you tried to be as little of a nuisance as possible.

it was only your second week of backpacking, yet you already had enough of it. currently traveling from croatia to slovenia, you were already struggling with the scorching august heat.

it was hot.

you felt sticky.

your travel-buddy injured himself and had to cut your backpacking trip short.

the last thing the universe could grant you was a decent seat near an open window, preferably without anyone getting into close proximity to you.

just as you finished that thought you reached the end of the train wagon.

an annoyed sigh left your lips as you tried to shimmy around, your backpack trapping you once again in the narrow hallway leading past the secluded compartments of the train.

once you managed to make a 180° you were met with blue eyes from the other end of the hallway.

most people managed to find some place to sit, so you were able to get a clear view of the tall brunette smiling at you.

“no seats?” he asked, and you shake your head. “nothing available i fear…” you said as he approached you, double checking the seating-situation through the glass doors of the compartments on his way over to you.

“i guess we’ll have to take the floor then” he said as he hauled his own backpack off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with a thump loud enough to make you fear he put a hole in the floor of the old train.

you eye him carefully as he opens one of the many zippers of the backpack to pull out some random cardgame “you know how to play?”

by now it’s obvious that he does not plan on enjoying the train ride separately, so much for nobody getting into close proximity.

you shake your head.

“i only know mau mau…” you admit ashamed.

his confused eyes met yours as he was about to settle on the floor, his lips pulling into a smirk.

“what, like a cat’s noise?”

you sigh again as you struggle to take your backpack off, “no… I mean it does sound like it, but it's a lot like UNO. just with different cards.”

as you finally managed to let your bag fall to the floor, you let out an annoyed huff before you dropped to the floor yourself, propping your back against your tightly packed luggage.

“i would show you how to play but my brother took the deck of cards with him”

“where is your brother?” the strange man asks as he sits down as well, and you couldn’t help but notice how his muscular thighs bulged under his linen shorts.

“had to take a plane home.” you tell him

“we wanted to backpack through the EU together to celebrate his graduation but the idiot broke his foot on a hike not even a week after we left home.” you keep on rambling.

while you were talking the guy in front of you started to dig through his backpack without lifting his gaze from yours.

“well, i’m sorry to hear that. hope he’s having a quick recovery.”

you can only nod as you watch random stuff from his bag fall in his lap as he’s going deeper into it.

“i’m y/n by the way, sorry for blubbering around.”

“it’s fine. i’m cregan” he answers as he triumphantly pulls another cardgames’ box from gis luggage before placing it between you on the floor “nice to meet you!”

as you realized what he’d searched his bag for you couldn’t help but smile “i thought since you knew a game like UNO, might as well try the real thing.”

nodding and smiling at him, you grab the deck and start shuffling the cards while he stuffs the few stray items back into his backpack.

“may i ask where you’re from? i’m guessing the UK but i’m not sure… i’m not that great with accents” you say as you lay out the cards for each of you.

“well, i guess its not that hard to tell in my case” he laughs “i’m from northern england”

“so scottish?”

“not that far up north”

he smirks at you and you can’t help but laugh, his eyes wandering over your frame as you’re distracted with sorting your cards. he does the same, laying down a red 7 on the foundation card.

“your turn”

“IN WHAT UNIVERSE ARE YOU ALLOWED TO PUT TWO BLACK CARDS ON TOP OF EACH OTHER?”

his loud voice erupts through the train. it’s not the first time either, so at this point a few other travelers peak through the glassdoors to glare at you.

“what do you mean?” you laugh, acting innocent as he rambles about rules of the game you “clearly didn’t know or at least didn’t care about”

by now you were at the sixth round of the game and you had multiple disagreements about certain rules. the first few times were accidental, as you really did play a bit different than him, but by now it was out of principle.

the way his eyebrows carved into a deep frown each time, his hands frantically flapping around as he explains how fundamentally wrong you are with no real vigor to it: it was endearing to watch.

“i’m sorry cregan, but that's how i was taught to play” you shrug “it’s just like last time”

his lips are pressed into a tight line as he looks up at you again “it’s alright” he sighs as he puts down his last card “because i would’ve won anyways”

your mouth falls open as he snickers to himself, collecting the cards from the floor and plucking your remaining stack from your hands.

“one more round? i have to get off in two stops” he asks as he shuffles the deck once again

“sure” you smile, even though you would prefer it if he stayed.

the next stop comes and multiple people get off, as this is the last stop before crossing the border to slovenia.

a frown forms on your face as the first fat drops of rain hit the windows and the sky darkens considerably.

the rails snaked themselves through the scenic mountains of the balkans for quite some time now, but the sudden change of weather made the rocky slopes loom over you scarily, as if the sky was trapping you in and crushing you in the valley of two mountains.

the rain got heavier as you left the last town behind and it took only a few minutes before the first thunder erupted from the skies.

UNO was the last thing on your mind right now and cregan seemed to notice your change of mood.

“hey, it’s just a bit stormy. no need to worry.” he smiles at you as he reaches over to reassuringly grab your hand, squeezing it lightly to get your attention.

as your eyes met, the train came to an abrupt halt in its tracks.

the lights flickered for a moment and you held onto his hand tightly as you waited for someone to tell you what was going on.

soon enough the train attendant came by and tried to explain what was going on, the only thing you understood was that there was some rubble covering the tracks and that you had to wait.

great.

cregan reassured you that it would be fine and probably just take a little time, but after almost an hour passed you started to grow restless.

“listen, i know you are worried right now, but maybe we should try and get your mind off of this.”

as he spoke, he rose to his feet and offered you his hand once again. a blush crept up your neck and covered your cheeks at the suggestive tone in his voice.

you grab his hand quickly, letting him pull you up and standing a bit closer to him than really necessary.

“what do you have in mind?”

“you not hungry?” he asks through his mouth full of soup.

your eyebrow twitches as you sip your tea from a flimsy plastic cup “no, thanks for the drink tho”

apparently his idea of getting your mind of a thunderstorm rocking the still train was a lot different than yours.

as he pulled you to your feet in the hallway of the train wagon, you had realized how most of the compartments were empty by now. he had taken your backpacks, hauled them into the luggage racks of one of them before turning around smiling.

a chill went down your spine as he stepped closer, taking your hand in his once again before shooing you out the door again.

“let's get something to warm you up. your hands are freezing.” with that he started to lead the way towards the dining car.

you can’t help but feel a bit disappointed.

was it like you to just fuck a random stranger on the train? no.

did the last two hours of playing and laughing with cregan convince you that you actually liked that strange british guy? absolutely.

the way he talked to you, his laugh vibrating in your chest every time you used a proverb the wrong way while trying to seem savvy, his gaze always holding yours but scanning over you every time you looked away.

it made you crazy about him.

you also couldn’t help but notice that his thick thighs weren’t the only enticing thing about him. his choppy brown hair and stubble framing his face nicely, his shirt tightening around his chest every time he straightened his back and shoulders, and most importantly: the way he listened to everything you had to say with a look of genuine interest while staring you down.

it made you tingly all over again, thinking about the intense eye contact you held with him (something you usually struggled with).

your thoughts were disrupted by the noise of cregan's plastic spoon scraping up the rest of his suspicious looking soup.

you watched as he liked the spoon clean before tossing it away with the rest of your disposable cutlery, as you were also finished with your tea.

“can i do you for another one?” he offers, considering he had paid for your first drink already you just shook your head.

“thank you though. i think we should get back to the compartment, i don’t wanna leave the luggage alone for too long”

“fine, you can go ahead. i’ll get something for myself and then i’m right behind you”

by now almost two hours had passed since the train stopped. two hours you spent with the sweetest young man, telling you about his family and his travels.

you can’t help but sigh again as you reach the compartment, trying to think of the least awkward way to ask him for his number.

the inside of the train had cooled down considerably over the past few hours and you shiver as a draft brushes over your bare shoulders. trying to reach your bag to cover up was to no avail, as cregans considerably larger backpack was blocking yours.

you struggle as you try to free your sweatshirt from the bag one more time as the door slides open.

“need any help with that?” cregan asks as he shimmies past you to place a glass bottle down on the little desk below the window.

“yes please… it’s freezing and i can’t turn down the AC in here.” “here let me…”

he reaches past you and you duck, shying away last minute as his chest brushes your back.

he throws you a dark gray bundle rather than handing you your luggage. you frown at first before realizing he gave you a piece of his clothing to cover up.

you don’t comment on it, just pulling the soft half zip sweater over your head to not draw any further attention to your very prominent blush.

your nose is flooded with his smell, a nice combination of pine-scented deodorant and his personal musk. the soft wool of the sweater warms your skin quickly and you smile as your hand brushes over the small wolf emblem resting over your left pectoral.

“thank you…”

you smile down at him where he sat down next to the window, but before he could reply you frown at the beverage he brought with him from the dining car.

“is that… red wine?” you ask bewildered “what, were they out of any hard liquor?” you mockingly ask him as he takes the bottle to unscrew the cap.

“no, well… the train attendant came in as you left and informed us that because of the thunderstorm they can’t do any work on the railway. we’re gonna be here for a while so i thought we might as well get cozy” he smiles at you sheepishly.

you can’t help but roll your eyes at the news as you plop yourself in the seat next to his “maybe you should’ve started with that” you sigh before reaching over to grab the bottle from his hands

“it’s a nice idea though, let’s get comfy…” you smile at him as you take a swig from the bottle, the sour taste of cheap wine flooding your tongue.

“cheers!”

the compartment is filled with giggles and laughs as you finished half the bottle together, passing it back and forth between you.

“so, wait… you’re telling me you realized it was a musical after you had to audition for it with a musical number?” you spurt out as you wipe a tear from the corner of your eye.

apparently, cregan stark was a theatre kid. you also learned that his last name was stark, and that he comes from a family of gifted sportsmen, him being an aspiring ice hockey protege apart from his gift for theatre productions at his university.

“it wasn’t supposed to be a musical when i first got the script, i swear!!” he laughs as he takes another swig “who would expect a pop-musical production of King Lear?”

you shrug as you take the bottle from him again “i don’t know man, but still…” trying to remember what witty remark your drunk brain had prepared for him you look past him out the window, watching the rain pour down and forming small streams down the rocky side of the mountain.

“what was your favorite play? like, were you ever the lead or something?” your eyes find his again as you try to keep the conversation going, hazily reminding yourself that there was still something you wanted to ask of him.

“i was romeo once, in freshman year” he smiles shyly “don’t even know why i got the part, i was to nervous to remember any lines”

“they probably just wanted a handsome face for their lead” you giggle “the story wouldn’t make any sense if romeo wasn’t smoking hot”

“that's not true…” he says before taking another swig.

“yes it is, i mean come on… they were super young, they were basically told that they could be with anyone but the other, and they had to be super hot to find it enticing to run off with each other instead of just carrying on with their families rivalry”

you ramble along, remembering the lecture you held about this english class back in highschool

he looks confused as you carry on with your lecturing before putting a hand on your arm to pause you “no, that makes total sense and stuff, but i meant the part about my cast.”

now it’s your turn to look confused, partially because you couldn’t follow him but mostly because the warmth of his hand seeping through his sweatshirt was a welcome distraction

“i wasn’t cast because i was handsome”

“are you fishing for compliments now?”

“what? no!” he frowns at you “i looked like an egg back then, had a buzzcut and all that…”

he leans back in his seat comfortably as he holds the bottle out for you “but thanks for saying i’m hot anyways” a grin spread over his lips at your flustered expression.

“you really are” you tell him as you reach for the bottle, cregans fingers brushing yours. instead of pulling away he holds the bottle between you, nudging his fingers against yours and squeezing your arm where his hand still layed.

his eyes scanned over your face before he spoke again “you would make a nice juliet yourself” “are you calling me pretty?”

he scoffs “now you’re the one fishing for compliments” “i’m not! i just wanna hear you say it” you laugh, leaning a bit closer.

cregan leans in as well, and you’re sure he can smell the cheap wine on your breath

“you’re very pretty” he mutters as his gaze flickers to your lips, “especially with the wine staining your pretty lips”

you lick your lips out of reflex before you meet his gaze again.

“can i kiss you?” he asks at the same time as you, resulting in a snort from both of you

“i’m taking that as a yes” his lips met yours, his hand leaving your arm to cup your cheek delicately.

he pulled away almost as quickly as he pressed the kiss onto your lips, which left you confused

“that was only a peck… you gotta kiss me!”

before you could complain any further he came onto you again and this time, it felt like a real kiss.

his hand on your cheek guided you towards him and your lips met again, at first only moving carefully to try and find a comfortable rhythm until you slotted against each other perfectly.

he kept pulling away just to reconnect your lips quickly, only taking a second to breathe before filling your body with warmth again.

you don’t remember who incorporated tongue first, you just know that he had the most delicious taste to him.

the more heated the kiss got, the closer you tried to get to him. the bottle of wine was long forgotten on the floor of the compartment as you finally took a leap and broke the kiss for a moment to climb into his lap.

you barely manage to straddle his thighs in the narrow seat, so cregan quickly flips up the armrest to make some room for you.

considering how hesitant you were earlier to even play cards with him, you certainly changed your biases quickly as you scoot up in his lap until your chest grazes his.

he looks up at you through his lashes as his hands find their place on your jeans clad thighs “is this okay?” you ask him nervously as you push some of his hair back

“i can get off if i’m to heavy, i just thought-” he cuts you off by pulling you even closer, his chest now pressed to yours and his hands wandering up to grab your hips.

“you’ll stay right where you are, understood?” you can merely nod before cregan pushes another kiss to your lips, this time there's no hesitation to push his tongue into your mouth. the faint taste of cheap red wine making you dizzy.

your hand pushes into his hair once again, this time to grab it as your other finds its way to his waist, ghosting over the hem of his shirt before dipping your fingers underneath to feel his hot skin.

you can feel him shiver beneath you as you push yourself even closer, your nails skimming up and down his side. his hands started wandering as well, first lighty massaging your upper thigh before he resorted to plainly grope your ass.

it was a welcome surprise to feel his fingers indentations on your flesh even through the thick fabric of your jorts, his initial roughness soon turning into soft guidance of your hips against his pelvis.

as the kiss you share turns more and more desperate, whimpers and grunts being swallowed by the others mouth, your hands keep wandering all over his upper body. you couldn‘t decide whether you wanted to map out his entire body with your fingertips or just hold him impossibly close.

at some point, cregans left hand had slipped underneath your (his) sweater to hold you even closer by your lower back, your core being held in place while his right continued to guide your hips in a leisurely paced grind over his hardening length.

feeling the compartment heating up, sweat forming beneath his broad palm pressed to your skin, the desperation on his tongue being thrust into your mouth, you decide you need to take a breather before things get on to well to quickly.

reluctantly, you pull your head back and with that, leave cregan to desperately pant into the crook of your neck where he rests his head. you look up to the luggage rack above you, trying to focus on anything but the delicious burning sensation the drag of cregans hardened cock against your vulva has left in your lower belly.

your regained focus is ripped from you almost immediately as cregan slowly pulls down the zipper of the half zip to latch onto your pulsepoint.

a hand quickly shoots to his disheveled hair, grabbing the brown strands tightly. the whimper passing his lips is almost pathetic, his eyes closing tightly at the pull of his hair.

it took all your willpower to actually hold him back by the hair on his nape instead of just crashing your lips on his again, his mouth reddened and shimmering with the remainder of your combined saliva.

cregans eyes meet yours, glossy and pupils blown wide from excitement.

“i think…“ you whisper „i think i need a moment“ at this point your hips have stilled completely, yet cregan still held you tightly by your lower back and arse

“alright sweetheart…“ he pauses for a moment, trying not to focus on the throb coming from both his hair being pulled and your thighs tightly trapping his hips in place underneath them

„i didn‘t push it to far, did i?“

„no, you actually pushed it just right, probably a bit to well…“ you chortle as you loosen the grip on his roots, having calmed your breathing just enough to settle comfortably an cregans lap without feeling the need to restrain his burning touch.

a big smile stretches over his lips at your words and almost immediately, his hands start to wander again. you roll your eyes as he tries to shake your regained composure from you. with a smile on your own lips you lay your hands on top of his.

cregan hesitates for a moment, thinking you‘re asking him to pause his movements again. to his surprise, you do the opposite:

you slowly guide his hands to the slope where your thighs meet your hip, his fingers spreading over your hipbone and his thumbs resting comfortably on your lower stomach, perfectly framing your little pouch beneath your bleach washed jorts.

“i think we can take it a bit further now… only if you want to of course, i don‘t wanna pressure you to do it if you don‘t feel like it!“

you start to ramble again, nervous to ask for such intimacy from someone you met mere hours ago. cregans thumbs slowly start to caress where they can reach, inching closer to the zipper of your pants, wiping any doubt from your mind as your eyes meet once again.

“stop worrying so much“ he tells you, the sweetest tone to his voice „i want this just as much as you do, so please…“ his hands grip your hips tightly as he easily maneuvers you off his lap to sit on the seat next to his „do me a favor and take of your pants.“

he says it so matter-of-factly, you almost feel stupid for not starting to undress on your own accord. worry clouds your mind for a moment as you glance towards the glass door to your compartment, but as if he had read your mind cregan was already on it, closing the blinds and lowering the curtains of the small windows next to the ‚isle-seats‘ facing the hallway of the train.

you quickly loosen the button and pull down the zipper of your pants, wiggling out of the thick fabric and purposefully ignoring the damp stain on the inside of your pants‘ crotch-area as well as the wetness tracing between your thighs.

cregan also takes notice of your newly revealed skin, watching hungrily as you nervously press your knees together. technically, you want nothing more but to get the buff man in front of you between your legs.

practically, you can‘t help but think about how dirty the seats must be and how little contact you want your bare skin to have with the dusty upholstery.

“why don‘t you sit down?“

too embarrassed to admit your squeamishness concerning the hygiene of public textiles, you spew out the next best excuse that comes to mind

“i don‘t wanna leave a stain“

cregan snorts as he watches the deep blush creep up your neck and cheeks, hands clasped tightly in front of you

“don‘t worry about that“ he says as he pulls his shirt over his head to place it over the middle seat for you to sit down on.

as he stretches his arms upwards to free himself from the fabric you can feel the flame in your lower belly rekindle. you knew what to expect from the way his clothes hugged his bulging muscles, yet you didn‘t imagine him to be this beefy. his muscles laid bedded underneath soft fat, yet could still be made out clearly whenever he moved. a trail of coarse dark brown hair spread over his pectorals and down to his navel, the soft happy trail disappearing under the band of his boxers peeking from his shorts.

the sight of him made you salivate a little, trying not to think too intensely about what it might feel like to have his front rut against yours.

as if he was trying to stop your train of thoughts, cregan guided you backwards slowly until you sat down atop his discarded shirt. you could feel the remaining warmth of his body heat through the thin fabric of your slip, the gusset most certainly soaked through with your arousal and leaving a moist print on the fabric.

practically vibrating with excitement you followed his every move with your eyes as he slowly knelt in front of you, his hands reassuringly rubbing up and down your plush thighs to coax them to open up to him.

you did as instructed, slowly spreading your legs only to draw in a sharp breath as he slips between them, his waist nestling neatly between them to keep them spread.

“i want to try something… do you trust me?“ he asks, his breath ghosting over your face, drawing you in to lean closer

„yes“

lips are pressed against each other once again, desperately clinging to another as if kissing was their only purpose.

carefully, your hands start to explore his now naked upper body, enthusiastically roaming his back only to rake down through the thin layer of hair towards his navel, not missing the opportunity to grace over his nipples to cast gooseflesh over his body and draw a breathy moan from him.

the thought of cregan being so sensitive to your touch filled you with excitement, slowly starting to inch your waist closer to the edge of the seat to connect with his pelvis again, your core desperately clenching around nothing.

cregan didn‘t keep you waiting much longer, slowly trailing his lips from yours towards your neck, continuing to suck a dark mark into the same spot he tried to claim not to long ago.

this time, your hands found their way into his hair to try and bring him impossibly closer. the welcome throb of his hair being pulled send thrills down his spine, only spurring him on to let his lips wander and map out the skin of your neck, marking every sensitive spot with a loving bite as well as an apologetic lick over the forming bruise.

you don‘t know how much time passes until he detaches from your neck completely, your mind hazy with the way his touch seemingly has left permanent marks on your skin.

without a doubt, you could still feel his lips trailing your neck, his hands going from massaging your thighs to ghost over the hem of your knickers before finding your chest, his palms perfectly resting on the swell of your tits with an occasional flick of your nipples with his thumbs.

cregans previous touches were all but forgotten when he pressed one last peck to your lips before leaning down between your legs, now resting on his hunches.

he eyed the wet spot between your legs with a soft glimmer in his eyes, now on the same level as your soaking cunt as he was leaning down. his broad shoulders nudged your legs apart even further, his arms circling them from underneath to gain further control as well as softly caressing the outside of her thighs soothingly.

slowly getting the idea of what he wanted to try so desperately, your breath grows quicker.

his eyes found yours again as he started to trail stray kisses along the insides of your thighs, nipping at certain spots just as he did on your neck. you try to clench your legs to chase the friction you try to chase so desperately, but he restrains you from doing so.

his shoulders keep your legs propped open as he finally lowers his head to press his open mouth to your covered vulva. an excited gasp leaves your mouth as his tongue pushes forward to add to the wetness of the fabric stretched over your middle, tasting your arousal through the cotton.

„fuck“ is the only thing you manage to utter as he laps on you over the fabric once again, this time accompanied by a pleased hum.

„can i take them off? please…“ his desperate eyes seek your gaze again, pleading to finally expose yourself fully.

the thought was tempting, but the little voice of reason in the back of your head did not want to shut up. this was already a far more intimate situation than you ever thought yourself capable of, but you couldn‘t seem to fully let go.

you slowly shake your head, worry clouding your mind about how he might react to the rejection. „can i keep them on please?“ you don’t even know why you were asking, it was your decision after all. yet you still felt relieved when he nodded in agreement.

“totally fine by me. is it okay if i keep going?“ he asks with his cheek rested on your thigh, his hands stroking your calves soothingly.

“yeah, please keep going“ you basically repeat after him

it doesn‘t take cregan long to get back into his previous position, his hand coming up between your legs to assist his mouth by you pulling the gusset of your panties to the side before diving back in.

the first contact between his hot tongue and your glistening lips was electrifying. he started of with a broad lick right through the middle, parting your lips with it as well as gathering your sticky wetness on his tongue.

“you taste so fucking good“ he mumbles as he closes his eyes for a second, letting your flavor melt on his tongue before diving back in and tracing his tongue upwards again, slightly gracing your clit before closing his lips around it.

you hold onto the armrest for dear life as he starts suckling on your engorged bud, swiping his tongue over it in a harsh rhythm that soon becomes too much too quickly, forcing you to stretch out your hand, grabbing his hair once again.

“careful!“ you tell him „i‘m- haa… a little sensitive“

as you push his head back a little he mumbles an apology before placing a parting kiss on your clit. cregan lays his tongue flat against your hole, the new sensation making you gasp his name aloud.

picking up on the signals your body gives him, the shiver running up your spine as well as the gooseflesh covering your legs, he starts prodding his wet muscle into you slowly, careful not to overwhelm you.

pushing himself into you with slow, languid moves while the crooked bridge of his nose softly nudges your clit is what really sets you off. you can‘t help but grind your pelvis upwards slowly, matching the slow strokes of his tongue against your inner walls.

your breath shudders with every swipe and press, his hands found their place between your thighs once again as he uses his left to keep your slip out of the way and his right to carefully assist his tongue.

as the knuckle of his pointer finger breaches your hole you yelp loudly, as you were not used to the sensation. you faintly remember asking your ex to perform cunnilingus, only for him to laugh and explain how dirty women were down there (obviously complete bullshit).

cregan didn‘t seem to think you were dirty in any way. his movements got bolder and more intense, chasing after your pleasure just as intensely as you were doing yourself.

an occasional moan , often followed by some slurping sounds, passed his lips as he eagerly swallowed each wave of wetness gushing out of you.

his tongue was soon joined by a second finger, and as cregan kept pressing against your g-spot while slowly scissoring you open your legs came up to press against his ears, locking his head in a shaky hold as your moans grew louder by the second

“you have to keep quiet” he whispered, momentarily parting from your pussy

his fingers kept prodding against the rough spot inside of you while he looked up at you, watching as you nod slowly.

“i’ll try…”

cregan smiles and gives your mound an awarding peck before he dives in again. his tongue laps at your clit once again and you’re back in your throes of pleasure, pressing your thighs together again to keep him there.

he picks up on the hint immediately, matching the strokes of his tongue with the pumping of his fingers.

your eyes roll back as you bring your hand to your mouth, trying to keep yourself from moaning out loud again, reducing your pleas for him to finally have mercy on you to muffled whimpers

the air grew tense with your approaching climax, with cregans tongue drawing continuous whimpers from you.

he must’ve felt you growing more tense by the second and before you could protest again, he went from one broad lick over your clit to sucking it between his lips gently.

it was enough to finally push you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you hard as you felt the familiar warmth rushing down your spine, pulsating between your legs. you kept your legs closed tightly around his head, fingers trembling in his hair as you spurred him on to keep sucking, your pelvis grinding against his face roughly in order to ride out your orgasm as best as you could.

cregan complied gladly, keeping his lips closed around your bud as well as his fingers pressed to your g-spot. he was breathless, with his nose pressed tightly into your mound and his mouth still occupied.

he enjoyed himself, the noises of the occuring thunderstorm being muffled by your luscious thighs and your juices coating his palm, slowly trailing down his arm.

the constant pressure slowly became to much for you to handle and your hips stilled, your hand pushing cregans head back from where he was still latched to your core.

the moment your eyes met, you couldn’t help but smile at his flushed state.

cregans stubble was sticky with your arousal, his lips swollen and puckered as he breathed heavily.

“was it good?” he asked teasingly, his cheeks bright red from the heat.

“the best” you reply, still a little breathless. “you did so good baby” you tell him, his shoulders tensing at the praise while a soft hand brushes back his hair.

“keep calling me that…” cregan says as he slowly pulls his fingers from you, licking them clean as he raises to sit next to you once again.

you weren’t sure whether it was the slight buzz from the red wine, or the pleading look in his eyes that encouraged you to straddle his lap again, but you did so swiftly.

your lips crashed against his instantly, giving you a taste of your own arrousal as his tongue immediately found yours.

without a second thought you brushed over his prominent bulge with your knuckles, earning yourself a whimper from the brunette.

“can i touch you baby?” you whisper against his lips, your fingers teasingly slipping under the waistband of his shorts

“hmm… fuck, yes…” cregan answers breathless, your hands immediately fussing with his pants to pull them down enough to finally get your hands on him.

the desperation in his voice only spurred you on as he was pleading for you to touch him, whimpering loudly as you freed him from his confines and took him in your hand carefully. “please…” he croaked as your cool fingers sent electrifying shocks down his length, but you were too occupied with the sight between the two of you to decipher what he wanted, needed.

as expect from a guy his size, he was big. not neccesarily the longest, but definitely girthier than you were used to with a beautiful pink tint to the weeping tip.

dreamily, you brush a thump over his slit, smearing the precum he already leaked and earning another low moan from cregan.

you started to stroke him, the soft skin moving under your fingertips as you mindlessly wondered how beautiful his color would look on your lips, glossed up with makeup in the same way his tip glimmered with cum

“so pretty…” you whispered as he throbbed in your palm, urging you to speed up your movements while adding a little flick of the wrist to it.

as his moans grew louder you shut him up with a kiss, lips and tongues sloppily crashing together as cregan started to thrust into your fist, your hand barely able to close around his dick.

he was gripping your hips tightly, pulling you closer again until he could feel the bottom of his tip pressing against your mound, a beautiful hot sensation of thrusting up into your closed palm while grinding against your pubic bone, his moans resonating in your throat as he kept your lips on his by the back of the neck.

despite his efforts you pulled away slightly while keeping your ministrations on his dick up.

“do you wanna cum baby?” you ask softly, his eyes never leaving yours as you could feel him throb again, precum trailing down your fingers with how much he was leaking

“yes, please..!” he urged you on, his hands gripping your sides as he pressed another messy kiss to your lips “can i come in your mouth? please sweetheart, please put your mouth on me”

you couldn’t help but coo at his begs, adding some speed to the movement over his length.

his pleas were answered by actions, not words as you pressed a parting kiss to the corner of his mouth before you climbed off his lap, his hips straining from his efforts to hold back his thrusts into your fist.

your chest tightens as you look up at him, his cheeks are flushed red with his chest raising and falling rapidly.

you give him a few more strokes until he looks ready to cum, his skin tensing beneath your touch and his moans of your name growing louder with each stroke.

“look at me baby” you tell him, and his eyes find yours in an instant.

slowly sticking out your tongue, you press it to his throbbing tip accompanied by a delighted moan as the taste of him spreads over yout tastebuds.

his face contorts with pleasure as you carefully wrap your lips around his dick, gliding down until your lips meet your hand.

your mouth stretches over his girth and it takes a few attempts for you to comfortably start bobbing your head, the prominent vein running down his underside pulsating against the press of your tongue.

his hands find your head and reluctantly prepare to get your face pushed further into his lap. instead you find yourself delighted by the gentle caress of cregans fingers on your temple, his knuckles brushing some loose strands from your forehead before he runs his fingers through your hair.

as you look up at him through your lashes, sight slightly hazy with the remaining tears of your orgasm, you find him staring at you.

the intensity of his gaze as well as the comforting weight of his palm resting reassuringly in your hair elicits a low moan from you.

cregans eyes widen with surprise as you moan around his cock, the low vibrations in combination with your tongue gliding over his tip once again send familiar shocks through his lower abdomen, he feels his lower back tingling as he realizes his release is approaching rather rapidly.

„hold on-“ he tries to warn you, but with the way you hollow your cheeks and make an effort to swallow his dick completely, there is no way he can manage to form a coherent sentence.

you feel your pussy clenching with excitement at the sound of cregans pathetic moans, a new wave of arousal slowly dripping down between your thighs as you close your eyes again. concentrating on not gagging, you give it your best to take all of him in, imagining the way he would feel inside your cunt as his tip hits the back of your throat at the same time your nose burrows itself in his stomach.

his happy trail tickles your nose as you swallow him down completely with a delighted moan, cregans grip in your hair tightening slightly as he closes his eyes with a loud moan.

his orgasm crashes down on him and without a chance of holding back he softly grinds upwards into your mouth as his cum spurts down your throat. your hands hold onto his thighs tightly as you meet his shallow thrusts with the bop of your head, eyes closed with concentration as you try to drag this out for him as much as you can.

it doesn’t take long for him to slowly guide your face away from his dick, his chest rising and falling quickly with heavy breaths.

“guess you really wanted to return that favor, huh?“ he teases as your eyes meet once again, your chin glistening with the remains of your spit and the bit of cum you didn‘t manage to swallow.

„i did…“ you whisper quietly, voice hoarse from the strain on your throat „did you like that baby? did you like eating me out so much for you to cum this quickly?“ you tease as you slowly get up again, pushing yourself up by holding onto his thighs to stand in front of him.

the blush on his face darkens as you use that nickname again, seemingly having a rather intense effect on him

„thank you“ he whispers, his hands coming up to rest on the back of your thighs. you step closer to cregan, your knees pressing against the seat between his legs as you brush his hair out of his sweaty forehead.

you as you look down on him, your eyes scanning over his still-sticky face, his big eyes glistening with remaining tears of pleasure, his chest still darkened by a deep blush, the weight of reality starts to set in with you.

did you really just do that, get down on you knees in front of a stranger after he ate you out like a man starved?

but he wasn’t really a stranger to you, was he? after how much you talked, laughed and played around together?

cregan seemed to notice the panic settling into your stomach, his eyebrows drawing together with worry as your eyes dart around the compartment.

“what’s wrong sweetheart?” his hands reassuringly rub the sides of your legs, trying to calm you down as he tries to meet your gaze

“i’m just…” you bite your tongue as you think about it for a second “i think i’m just a bit overwhelmed is all… we just did this in public, and without protection-”

“i’m clean if thats what you’re worried about”

“it’s not, but thanks for letting me know”

cregan looks a bit helpless as you keep brushing your fingers through his hair to calm your nerves.

“i’m not the type to do something like this out of the blue, which probably sounds super cheesy but i’ve truly never done something like this, and i never thought i would do it with some stranger on the train”

nodding slowly as he tries to follow your train of thoughts, cregan leans to the side to kiss your wrist without breaking eye contact

“do you regret it? i didn’t want to pressure you, i swear! i just thought that we got along so well and then we made out-” you stop him by pressing a kiss to his hairline

“i never said i regretted it, it was great!” a smile stretches across your face “i’m just a bit surprised by this whole situation, thats all. i really enjoyed this…”

“i’m glad to hear it” he sighs as he leans back in his seat, tucking himself in and closing his pants before reaching his hand out

“now- why don’t you get dressed and come sit down again? i think we’ve still got some wine left, and you still need to finish that story about your theater play in highschool” you smile brightly at cregans words as you gather your pants and the one shoe that came loose throughout your snogging session and put them back on while he stuffs the soiled shirt from the seat into his backpack to exchange it with a clean one.

you’re glued to his side immediately as he sits back down, one leg thrown over his and your arms hugging his tightly.

cregan laughs at the sight of you, slowly caressing your leg while you rest your head on his shoulder, looking up at him through your lashes.

the evening goes by faster than you had anticipated, but with your laughter filling the compartment, neither of you realized how quickly time flew by.

you were in the middle of another make out break, cregan slotted between your legs as you tussle his hair some more, when the train suddenly recoiled. his head shot up immediately, trying to see anything out the window despite the darkness limiting his sight.

as the train suddenly jerked forward and started taking up tempo, you realized that the rain had stopped. the sky outside the window was as clear as ever and with a heavy sigh, your eyes met cregans.

“you’re getting off at the next stop?”

“yes…”

“oh… you should get ready then, it can’t be that long until we’re there” you mumble, trying to force a smile as you push yourself up and cregan out of your lap.

the realization hits you that this whole afternoon, the idea of you two being so intimate with each other and possibly forming more than a physical bond was over now.

cregan raises from his seat reluctantly, avoiding your gaze as his bubble was burst well.

“i think i’ll go to the bathroom, be back in a second…” he sort of tells himself before leaving you behind in the compartment.

it feels cold to be left behind like this, even though he hasn’t even gotten off the train yet. as cregan returns to you you start taking of his woolen hoodie, only to be stopped by his hands resting on your shoulders.

“keep it. please.”

he looks down on you sternly and before you can protest, an announcement over the speakers tells you that the next stop is coming up.

you tear up immediately and press yourself face first into cregans chest, hugging him tightly around the waist while his arms wrap around your shoulders.

“thank you for today” you say, muffled by his pectorals.

“no, thank you sweetheart. i had the best time with you today.” he whispers into your hair before pressing a kiss to your forehead, the train slowly coming to a halt.

“i guess i’ll see you around?” cregan asks hopefully.

“maybe… goodbye cregan.”

“goodbye…” as the train fully stops you sway lightly in his embrace.

you let him go without hesitation and step aside so he can take his backpack, with one last look over his shoulder he waves at you before squeezing out the department and towards the exit of the train.

you close your eyes for a second taking a deep breath while trying to calm yourself down.

this is so stupid you think to yourself as you gaze around the empty department, until a flash of color catches your eye:

cregan hat forgotten his UNO deck.

in a second, you scurry to find a pen and hastily scribble something on the cardboard box.

you can hear the doors opening and before you know it, you push open the window and lean out on the platform, scanning the crowd for the tall man.

“CREGAN!” you yell out as you spot him, cigarette and lighter in hand, his nose and eyes suspiciously red.

he scans the platform for a second before he strides towards you quickly, the doors already closing after the waiting passengers boarded the train.

before he can catch his breath or ask any questions, wasting the little time you had left, you pull him towards you by the neck and press a quick peck to his lips.

the two of you part with a smack as the train picks up speed and you toss over the little red pack of cards, which he catches against his chest.

you simply grin at him as his confused figure gets smaller and smaller in the distance, slowly backing away into the confines of the train, smilling as you let yourself fall into your seat.

cregan stands at the platform, looking after the train as it passes by and slowly disappears into the night.

confusion is clear on his face as he looks down on the little cardboard box in his hand, turning it in his palm.

“fucking hell…” he laughs out as he stuffs it into his backpack, finally lighting up his cigarette as he makes his way towards the exit of the platform, smiling ear to ear at the message you messily scribbled down.

call for a rematch :) xxx-xxxx-xxxx

will there be a rematch one day? who knows. but i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did while writing it.

love ya

[aidansplaguewind]

Hi @andreabaideas ! We don't know each other but I follow @mzannthropy and I just wanted to say I agree with everything you said about expressing one's opinions and not caring what others think of it. And yes, especially women. I'm a very opinionated woman and as a result I've been called so many awful things by men. I just don't understand why they can't handle us having a voice. I don't understand what's going on in the US right now and why men are so offended by women in power. I mean, don't get me wrong, I can explain it in ways like they're deeply insecure and their masculinity is incredibly fragile, and they're afraid women no longer need men for anything (including sex) and that, especially, terrifies them. But even knowing all of that, I still just don't understand it. So what if a woman doesn't need you, isn't it enough that one WANTS you? But I think the problem lies there. It means they actually have to TRY to get a woman to want them because the days of women having to get married to survive are mostly gone. And now they have to try to be better people, they have to try to hold an intelligent conversation, they have to try to have varied interests and hobbies etc. And frankly I think most men are lazy when you look at that way and they don't want to put forth the effort to earn our interest and desire.

Anywho...

@mzannthropy I think we discussed this before, about how when I first got into Sam earlier this year I noticed immediately that there was a lot of appreciation and attention on his roles on The Hunger Games, Daisy Jones, and ME Before You. I'm wondering though if these are, in fact, people that I would consider fairweather fans. Not used by exact definition but its the closest I can think of to describe it. It's people who only like a celebrity for like one or two roles and are more in love with the character than the actor. Usually those fans don't stick around once the fixation on said character wears off.

I admit, I'm not as huge a fan of Sam as you or @jesstasticvoyage are, because my heart will always belong to Aidan Gillen, but I do consider myself a genuine fan. I just enjoy watching Sam work. He's extremely talented, unbelievably so. I will also admit that he's a far better actor than Aidan. I can't really put into words what he brings to the screen. A passion for what he does, obviously, but more than that. He's simply fantastic. One of my favorite performances of his is Oswald Mosley in Peaky Blinders. He's despicable but Sam is such a pleasure to watch in that performance. As good looking as he is, he did so well, I still hated his guts as Oswald.

Billy Dunne is also a favorite, even though I know you have a lot of not great opinions on DJATS. I didn't read the book so I have nothing to compare it to, so I did enjoy it very much. I was just baffled at what all he did to achieve that performance. The weight loss, yes, and learning to play an instrument, learning to SING well, recording an entire album. That's dedication. And when he's on screen I 100% believe he is Billy Dunne.

I also really liked him in Their Finest. Devastated by the ending but I loved watching it. His performance in The Corrupted is notable as well because that character just seems so not like real life Sam but he pulled it off completely.

Anyway, I'm getting off my point, which was that I personally think if you only like an actor in one role, you can't really say you're a REAL fan of that actor. A fan of the character, sure, but how can one be a fan of the actor if they only like them in one thing? Or even just two things? Especially if you look at the characters in question. They're these McDreamy type characters written and cast to get the attention of young women and teenage girls. I don't want to sound like a gatekeeper but if you only like one role then you're a fan of the character.

Omg, I just made this post so long. Imma shut up now. I really do have too many opinions sometimes 😅

Sam Claflin and Holliday Grainger in ‘Any Human Heart’ (2010)  

[weeping-statue]

Hi, can I get a scenario with yandere Chrollo and kidnapped afab reader where Chrollo overheard reader’s secret 18+ thoughts about him

Ofc<3 I hope you enjoy! Request are open!

“I wasn’t supposed to hear that, but I think deep down you wanted me too.”

-Nsfw- minors dni

———————————————————————

Chrollo was a.. simple man.

As long as you were behaving and kind, you could have your bit of freedom.

Meaning, walking around without supervision, sleeping next to him, feeding yourself, and maybe visits to the outdoor garden that he installed just for you.

But when you had your outbursts, he couldn’t just be lenient. No, cause then you’d get more ballsy, there might even be belief you could walk all over him. And as much as he loved you, he couldn’t have that.

There were places and roles you had to abide by. But you’d learn it one way or another, either by trial and error, or by brute force.

He had been denying you the outdoors, his time, and touch, for too long, which ended up making you stir crazy. Of course you knew your captor was an incredibly evil man, that had a lot of things to do. But if he was going to hide you away from the world until you both took your last breath, at least make it enjoyable.

You lay in your shared bed, hand softly rubbing circles on your clit as you thought of him. Oh how you missed him. The times he used to rub your thighs, softly trailing up to the place you desperately needed him.

A part of you started to worry he didn’t want you anymore, that maybe he found a new woman to focus his attention on and this was his subtle way of telling you it’s over.

But the sparks of pleasure from where you were touching began to overwhelm your worry with a new feeling. Gentle whimpers grew louder, the more wet you became. Moaning out his name as a finger plunged into your tight hole. “Chrollo- I need you so badly, please just fuck me, I promise I’ll be good-”

Eyes screwed shut, feeling the pleasure build. You didn’t even notice Chrollo silently listening in through the crack of your door. A hand slowly reaching his pants to palm his growing erection with a hint of shame.

How disgusting does he have to be to do this outside where any of his members could see. Such an act, is an extremely private matter, that nobody should even know about.

But he can’t help it, not when you’re moaning out for him. It just stirs up something inside of Chrollo that makes his brain go numb.

Fingers find their way to his belt, slowly relieving himself of the tight confines of his pants. The dull ache of his drooling member suddenly becomes too much, and his hand gathers up the precum, using it as lube.

His free hand wraps around his mouth in case anything slips from them. Ears focused on your sweet voice to spur him on, as a growing Shlick sound echos from the hallway.

The tip has become a pretty pink, as his palm speeds up. The friction only causing him to make the smallest sounds. It wasn’t enough, he needed you too. Only carefully and haphazardly pulling up his underwear along with his pants did he barge into the room, panting.

“Sorry, for startling you. But- Mhm, I can’t help myself anymore.” He spoke quickly. Walking up to the bed you were lying in, and pulling his shirt off. Not truly caring.

Your heart was beating quickly, mainly cause he scared the fuck out of you, but also because you were getting what you so desperately wanted.

His thighs were in between yours as the slightly wet hands glide up to your knees, leaving gentle kisses to your collarbone.

Mumbling,

“I wasn’t supposed to hear that, but I think deep down you wanted me too. Now let me make it up to you for eavesdropping, my dear.”

———————————————————————

I suck at writing smut or anything 18+

[fragileinthemaking]

hii, i hope youre doing well today and i was curious about some things about your ed (possible tw later?). I've been in your situation (somewhat, not to this extent) and am currently bul1mic with exercise as the form of purging/slowly healing idk. I wanted to know first of all how do you manage to burn more than 1k calories in a day because that is literally INSANE, I never thought that its possibls so I'm really really curious about your methods.

I also wanted to know your opinion on healing and the ed itself. Do you wish you never had one, do you hate counting c@ls, do you miss your life before the ed? Did it help you in any way (did you notice physical changes)? Are you experiencing any health problems because of it, are you dizzy or yellowish, have you ever fainted? Do you feel proud when skipping meals or anybody points out something ab the ed? Do you wish to heal but don't have the courage/will to, are you forced into healing, are you comfortable in the ed and want to continue and not start a healing process? How do you feel when you overeat or can't exercise the c@ls out? How do you feel about the future, do you wish to continue like so, do you wish to heal or neither of them?

I know it's A LOT of questions actually and I'm really sorry about it, I will explain now. When I was deep in my ed I never actually thought about it and what is going on with my life and I'm genuinely curious as to how it sounds and how my perspective was, I'm really trying not to offend you right now so please don't answer to anything if I'm offending you in any way!!

Hii I'm fine with any questions but damn that's alot (not in a negative way just alot of words and im bad at reading large groups of text)

First of all tw for ed stuff anyone that doesnt want to see this

with the burning 1k c4ls. my (almost) daily exercise typically burns around 500-700. secondly im a minor, im in school, pe is a legal requirement and that burns between 300-900 depending on what we do so combining those i can burn up to 1600 a day or if i do my normal stuff for twice as long that can also reach 1000 which i sometimes do on weekends when i have more time.

healing is something which if you want i highly encourage you get. i wish i had never gotten one, i wish i had never started counting c4ls, i wish i had spoken to someone before it got worse. i no longer feel like im able to get help and ive gotten myself to deep in the rabbit hole to get my mindset out so if you want help and its never to late then do it. get the help you need ill support you all the way.

i hate counting c4ls. i only eat in public when i have to and i always have to secretly look at the c4ls and hope nobody sees. ive written them on my hand afew times when theyre really random numbers and have been questioned about it so just had to lie to my friends which i hate doing. life before an ed fells like it would be so much more free and i would be more careless and do whatever i want without wondering how many c4ls in burning/gaining from that activity. if i could go back to when i started having an ed i absolutely would and change whatever i can to not end up like this.

the only physical symptom ive had is my stomach getting smaller but im waiting for the day my thighs / ass (idk what a more appropriate name would be) get smaller as they make me insecure. im not sure if its from having an ed but im almost always dizzy espescially when i stand up to fast. ive never fainted or been yellowed.

when i skip i dont feel proud more like im doing something correct and nobodys ever pointed out an ed but if they did i would deny it but secretly be proud someone noticed. i dont want to heal. i might have in the past but currently i have no plan to. i want to continue my ed without help. (my mindset is just 'if its a problem its your job to fix it' and i dont want to fix it). ive been put in counselling which has 6(i think) sessions left but if they think im really bad then i might be put in actual therapy. ive hinted about an ed with things like 'i often skip meals' and 'i just forget' or 'i dont have an appetite' and secretly hope they might catch on and get me help.

when i overeat or cant burn the c4ls i just feel sick and like im a failure. theres not really anything else i just feel bad and like i failed at having an ed. for the future my main goal is to reach my ugw and stay there getting lower if possible but not higher unless i really want help.

That was alot of questions but i feel like this is a place where i can talk about whatever(especially my ed) without anyone judging me or knowing who i am. im glad i could think about my ed on a deeper level other than just 'hmm weight be gone pls' so like thanks?? idk i hope i answered everything i might have missed a question. im always open to any question anyone has i just like talking to people and getting to know them.

[annaphoenix1994]

Whiskey Fever

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

»»-------¤-------««

The next morning, I woke up with a terrible - and usual - night terrors that were unfortunately too familiar with me. I can't remember the last time I actually had a decent sleep, even with melatonin, but I could say that I felt better. My heart raced when I realized that I woke up after the sun came up, my room beaming with natural light, which was another thing I wasn't used to. The smell of coffee caught my attention, bringing me back to the realization that I wasn't in the barracks. Not a base, not on a mission, but in a home.

I couldn't help but be hesitant with every move I made, slowly opening the bedroom door to investigate the enticing smell of freshly brewed coffee, the smell alone making my mouth salivate. Once I opened the door, I noticed a small black bag that sat on the floor. Out of habit, I was resentful to even touch it, but I ended up tapping it with my foot to ensure that it wasn't an explosive. Snap out of it, Simon.

Taking the bag and setting it on my freshly made bed, I opened it to see that it was full of basic necessities that I was coincidentally running low on: toothpaste, deodorant, aftershave, and Kiera's iPod. I didn't wonder why she left it for me because I knew that she knew I secretly liked the music she listened to. That, and looking at her photos. Then, I set up my new necessities in the bathroom I call to call mine for a while until I returned to the field, my mind relaxing when I saw a handwritten note inside: 

Now refreshed from a quick shower, I changed into new clothes before I exited the bedroom, following the smell of hot coffee, seeing a fresh pot of coffee that had enough left over for me, and I looked around the area to find a mug for myself, drinking it black - just like my soul.

I soon found my way to the back patio, eager to look at the mountain range that I had my eyes on ever since I landed in Wyoming. Opening the glass door once I saw a chair in my line of sight, I immediately stopped in my tracks when I realized that Kiera was sitting in another chair that sat at the patio table, a laptop in front of her and a blanket draping around her shoulders. "Morning, Simon," She smiled at me. "Care to join me for coffee?"

I cleared my throat, "I don't want to intrude. Looks like you're working."

"I'm always working, Simon, but you'll never intrude," She assured me. "I know this isn't our usual kitchen nook coffee time, but it'll do."

"That it will. Better view this time." I chuckled, taking a seat at the open chair, finally fixating my sight on the mountain range ahead of me, thinking about how I realized that I felt more vulnerable around her now that we weren't working. It was a nice feeling, but I didn't like feeling vulnerable in general, but yet I wanted to feel this way around her - to let my guard down.

And let her in.

"Never gets old, that's for sure," She hummed. "Your Captain sent me an email - he was wondering how you were doing."

I scoffed, "He knows how I'm doing."

"Well, apparently going on leave with one of your comrades isn't common with you." She shrugged.

"I take it you and Price talk a lot, then?"

"Usually when we're on a job, but this was a social call. He seemed genuinely curious."

"The old man knows better."

"Can't help him being curious. Obviously, this is new information for him." She giggled.

"Surprised you're still working when you said yourself that we're on leave."

"No rest for the wicked, Lieutenant. I finally have time to send my reports to Kate, and I just hope that we have enough time to enjoy Thanksgiving because I'll be damned if I die without having to experience another Thanksgiving dinner in my belly first."

"Don't talk like that." I huffed.

"It's true," She scoffed. "I can't afford to make one wrong move. If I do, it's my hide and others on the line. A lot of pressure to deal with, but part of the job I guess."

"Want to talk about it?"

"I shouldn't," She shook her head, returning her attention to her laptop. "I deal with a lot of classified information.

"Understood." I nodded, relaxing in my chair before taking a drink of my coffee.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, the sound of Kiera's typing drowning out the welcoming silence between us before she finally spoke again, "You still up for a whiskey?"

"Always."

"Would you rather go out and have a whiskey or stay in?"

"I'm fine with whichever you choose, love."

"I always prefer to go to the bar, but I'm not sure if you're comfortable with that."

"No problem for me," I shrugged. "I'd like to go."

»»-------¤-------««

Kiera's diesel whistled with acceleration on our way into town. I sat next to her in the passenger seat with her two wranglers in the back seat. Lawson was a young wrangler that had been working for the ranch for going on two years, but he was still obnoxious and hot-headed in my opinion. The other was Frankie, Kiera's cousin, who was also her go-to man if she needed something done fast and right. By what she told me, he was a head wrangler with a lifetime of experience under his belt. There were two other trucks behind us on the way to the bar - the rest of them full of wranglers eager to have a night out and a few drinks. It reminded me of a military convoy, but Kiera assured me that it was due to the reason that the entire band of wranglers didn't have the chance to go into town often unless it was for errands or hauling livestock, so every trip to the local bar was something to be looked forward to.

Kiera walked in front of me after I opened the door for her as well as ensuring that she was safe by letting her walk in front of me. A band was playing live on stage, and I vaguely remember this song on one of Kiera's playlists. Upon further observation, I concluded that the live band was Whiskey Myers playing Frogman. Although the music was nostalgic to me, it still didn't mask the feeling of anxiety that washed over me due to the thick crowd of people scattered throughout the bar. I had been used to things taking a turn fast, and my primary concern was Kiera and keeping her in my sights just in case something happened.

I let her gently grasp my forearm as I carved our path through the crowd and towards the bar, letting her walk in front of me and sit down as I stayed standing up, yet I mentally beat myself when I took the opportunity to look her over. Those jeans hugged her hips perfectly, the Wrangler patch on her right rear pocket sending me into overdrive, but I couldn't help but hate myself that I took the chance to look at her - to sexualize her. I was no better than any other man, and that pissed me off. She deserved my undivided attention in a loving and protective way, not in a sexual one within every waking second. I was sure she had gone through that enough, and I was the last person I wanted her to experience it with.

She didn't deserve that.

I continued to stand close to her as she sat down on the bar stool, keeping her purse between me and her as a subconscious way to ensure it wouldn't be stolen from. "Kiera! Nice to see you back!" The bartender smiled at her. He was an older man who looked to be the same age as her father, and it was clear that he was a dear friend of hers.

"Likewise, Frank! Can I get a glass of Wild Turkey, please?" She smiled at him before turning to look up at me. "What type of whiskey do you want?"

"I'm not picky. Whiskey is whiskey, love." I shrugged.

"Amen, brother!" Frank nodded, setting two glasses of Wild Turkey in front of us. I wasted no time in taking the swig I had been itching to have. It tasted better, smoother than what I was used to back home.

"Damn, you weren't kidding about that shot of whiskey!" Kiera laughed before downing hers, nodding at Frank for another.

"I never kid."

"Mhm, you gotta learn to loosen up a little. It'll do you some good, Simon!"

"If you say so, love."

We casually downed three glasses of whiskey each, and I could tell that Kiera was beginning to experience the early effect of being drunk, but she was doing her best to hide it from me, but I saw right through her. I knew she was on the brink of being tipsy, judging by the red blotches on her neck, dilated pupils, silly behavior, and slightly slurred words. I knew I'd have to babysit her tonight, and I was secretly looking forward to it because I would have the chance to care for her, not for what some men would expect it to be.

After her fourth glass, she licked her lips before telling me that he had to go to the bathroom, so I looked around for the neon light before reaching for her hand, escorting her myself towards the back of the bar. "C-Can you hold my purse and drink?" She slurred, leaning up against the wall as she removed her cross-body strap from over her shoulders after I had taken her drink from her, which was a drastic change from her preferred whiskey and to what she called "bitch beer" - a fruit cocktail that she could sip on to prevent her from drinking more.

"Of course, love." I nodded, happily accepting my mission of guarding her purse and drink while she was in the bathroom.

"Thank you. I won't be gone long."

"Well, I'll come looking for you if I think you've fallen in."

She giggled, "Okay."

Fortunately for her, I didn't have to enter the bathroom to find her. She exited with nearly stumbled steps before reaching for her drink, and I couldn't help but chuckle at her. I knew that she was still aware of her surroundings, but it was likely that she was prone to suffering a headache and a moderate hangover tomorrow morning. "Have you thought about how we're going to get home?" I asked her when I gave her back her purse, standing close to her to prevent her from wandering off, knowing it was bound to happen.

She downed the rest of her cocktail, licking her lips before shaking her head, "Not exactly. Did you drink the rest of my drink?"

"No. That's all you, sweetheart."

"Well, I'm going to get me a beer. Want one?"

"No thanks." 

"Fine then. I, however, am getting another beer." She giggled, and before I could protest, she began walking back towards the bar, Frank giving her a glass bottle that she and a lot of Wyoming locals referred to as a "stubby": Coors beer.

I stood with my hands in my pockets while Kiera sat at the bar, sipping on her beer while I still made sure that her purse was between me and her, ensuring it was secure as well as keeping her in my line of sight. She was vulnerable now, and I was going to make sure that nothing was going to happen.

She was my mission, and I wasn't going to fail.

The lighting dimmed in the bar, and the lights were directed toward the band on stage. "Alright, ladies and gentlemen, we're gonna play a soft ballad for you here tonight."

I couldn't help but grow uncomfortable when the lights dimmed within an entire bar of people, and I became more uneasy due to my masked social anxiety. "Oh, my God! This is my favorite song of theirs!" She gasped quietly, finishing her beer before leaving it on the counter and carefully standing to her feet, grasping my hand as she asked me to follow her.

Even if I was blind, I'd follow her wherever she wanted me to. Fuck, she was enticing.

That feeling of it being just the both of us in this world came over me again when I took her hand. I was so enticed by her that I didn't realize she had led me onto the dancefloor until she turned to face me. "Hope you don't have two left feet." She giggled up at me.

"I don't know what that means." I replied, unaware of what I had agreed to.

"It means I hope you know how to dance."

"Well, I don't."

"Well, you better learn quickly because everyone will start breakdancing here in a minute."

She has to be joking, but judging by her serious expression, I couldn't help but question her.

"I'm just kidding," She smiled. "All you have do is trust me."

"That's a scary thought."

She playfully pinched my arm, her eyes sparkling when she realized that I was only joking with her. I had to give it to her, though, she knew how to put me on the spot, but she knew my boundaries.

♪Well, the night is my companion; and the highway's my home; got me seeking for one last beacon; every single place I roam; they say Jesus was a poor man; I guess I wish I had a little more him in me; Make it easier to go on living; Heartache and misery...♪

She slowly wrapped her arms around my shoulders, and my arms gently wrapped around her waist, and I wasn't surprised when it felt natural to do it - like I had been doing this with her for so long.

"I never imagined you doing this." She admitted, her head pressing against my shoulder.

"Me either, but it's nice."

♪Sweet, sweet heart of mine, I'm going to break again a million times; Or is this too far gone? Or have you turned to stone? ♪

I listened to the lyrics of the song, taking the meaning as if it were about a future relationship after a heartbreak. Kiera knew the song by heart as I felt her humming along with it as the vibrations ricocheted off of my chest. It wasn't long before I felt the familiar burning of the whiskey rising in my stomach - it was a good burn, something I needed to distract myself from my emotions that I wasn't so eager of keeping inside of me much longer. She was taking a huge toll on me, and I wanted nothing more.