#to this day he still talks about my stories I wrote and uses the lighter hearted ones as examples sometimes

[psychoticwillgraham]

just remembered a short horror story that i wrote in 9th grade (which is unfortunately lost to time now) that my English teacher was obsessed with and tried to enter it in a statewide writing competition for me but they rejected it bc it was obviously about a lesbian couple.

basically the only restrictions were no curse words except for hell and damn and it couldn’t be extremely gory which was definitely a challenge for me bc that’s when i started writing rlly gory stuff.

basically it was about a lesbian couple (they were married even tho gay marriage wasn’t legal yet but this is fiction so.) who got separated during the zombie apocalypse. the main girl, the protag, was able to get back to their house in time to board it up but her wife was still at work and had called her to warn her about the zombies. she said she was fine and not to worry because ‘I’ll always come home, no matter what’ and when she hung up the phone, she said ‘I love you, and I’ll see you soon’ even tho the protag already knew her wife was fucked bc she couldn’t leave the workplace due to the lockdown.

so basically the protag reflects on their life together, already knowing that her wife is probably dead already and was as soon as she hung up the phone. it gets real emotional and she goes through her wife’s things to pick which stuff she’ll take with her, and starts packing.

near the end, it had to be like 2k words or less so it was short, she hears the front door creak open, and immediately grabs her gun and runs to the living room. at first, she assumes that it’s her wife and that she’s ok. then as her wife shuffles in, protag realizes it’s her and gets excited for a moment, until she sees her face. her wife had already turned and walked all that way from her job just to see her partner. the protag then loses her shit and lowers the gun, running towards her zombie wife who hasn’t made any moves to lunge at her and eat her yet, and embraces her, knowing that she’ll probably be eaten by her eventually. and even if she was going to die, she wanted to die in her wife’s arms.

her zombie wife hesitates for a moment, looking like she’s about to bite the protag, but instead hugs back, and that’s when the protag’s decision is made for her. she kisses her wife one last time, steps back, and shoots her. she drags her to their bed and tucks her in one last time, then says her prayers and kills herself right next to her wife. and in the end, her wife kept her promise.

she’d always come home, no matter what

[bethecliche]

my love mine all mine l vincent renzi x f!original character

summary: after seeing her for the first time, he just fell (deeply) in love word count: 3.7k content: female reader (no description of genitalia), mention of sex, mention of stretch marks, description of hair and eye color (but not texture or skin color), french laws and locations being misinterpreted, use of tv shows and books I didn't watch or read, non canon note: english is not my first langague! I wrote this in portuguese and then translated to english myself, there's a chance you'll find an error or something. I'm sorry sorry! I highly recommend you to listen to the song while reading.

you can check the aesthetic references for this oneshot here but take note that none of the people actual faces on this reflects on the character identity that I wrote, so don't base all of the details on the references for the characters in story.

The first time he noticed her, she was sitting on one of the wooden benches outside the courtrooms. She seemed nervous, shaking her legs and glancing restlessly between the watch on her wrist and the clock on the hallway wall, as if it made much difference. Regardless of her worried expression and furrowed brow, Vincent felt that he had never seen such an attractive woman in his life. From her brown hair to her brown boots, looked like she stepped out of one of those '70s fashion advertisements he'd seen in vintage magazines as a kid. He didn't had time to notice much more than that, as he crossed the hallway and headed to his session. At the end of the day, of course, she was no longer there.

What seemed to have been one of those street crushes that you see when crossing an avenue and never think about again, stayed in Vincent's head for a few days. Every time he passed by the corridor, he waited to see if the brunette would be there. He tried to guess what she was doing there that day and whether there was a possibility of bumping into her again, a question to which the universe answered “yes”.

Two weeks later, this time leaving work, he looked down buttoning his blue coat, distracted in his thoughts when he noticed the same brown boots a few steps in front of him. The stranger held a cigarette between her fingers and had her arms pressed against her body. Although it was snowing lightly, it was extremely cold for an autumn day. Her look was different, probably due to the weather, with a coat with a puffed collar and puffed sleeves, once again looking like she belonged to a previous decade. The wind ruffled her hair a little and the moonlight illuminated her posture, a scene Vincent believed could have come from a movie.

All his past relationships were comfortable. Someone he knew in high school, someone he knew in college, someone who was introduced by friends or someone his friends encouraged him to talk during an outing. He didn't consider himself an introvert, but he never needed to pursue someone who was interested. Things just happened for him. It wasn't his comfort zone just to approach a stranger like that, much less at the door of his work, but something that day said it was the right thing to do.

He took a cigarette out of his pocket and approached the girl asking to borrow a lighter. His sudden plan only went so far.

As soon as she turned to face him, she gave a friendly and inviting smile, taking the object out of her pocket and activating the flame in front of his face. Vincent stood still, staring into her eyes throughout the action, mesmerized by her and her sparkling brown eyes.

“Will I ever meet a lawyer who doesn’t smoke?” She asked as she extinguished the flame, placing the lighter and her free hand back in her pocket. Too cold to let it out.

His response took a few agonizing seconds, as his mind was far away and still lost in her gaze. He composed himself, running a hand through his hair and looking away.

“The day this happens, let me know. I want to be there.” Vincent laughed awkwardly, causing the girl to laugh as well. At that moment, he felt that he wanted to provoke more of this reaction, he wanted to see more of her smile and so the conversation flowed.

His first question was how she guessed he was a lawyer and not a passerby to which she replied, "You stand like a lawyer." He shared how being a lawyer was boring and tedious, but it did have its dramatic moments in court when she asked if the career was challenging like its portrait on TV. He also discovered that she was there to pay a car ticket caused by her younger brother, hence the great nervousness when he first saw her a few weeks ago.

“When my parents told me that my 20th birthday present was a baby brother, I already felt within myself that I would be the best sister in the world. That I would try to make his life as easy as possible. 18 years later, he asks to borrow my car to visit his girlfriend - which I don't hesitate to do, after all I support young love. And the little shit-head makes sure on parking in front of a fire hydrant.” The girl blew smoke to her right side, not taking her eyes off him. “Would you be my lawyer if I try to choke him?”

Vincent could only laugh at her spontaneity, easy way of talking about life and easy way of making conversation.

“Just threaten him, it will be an easier case for me to win.”

They talked about Metz and how her family decided to move to Paris when she was a teenager because they knew the city needed more beautiful people, a fact Vincent agreed with. In order not to dismiss him, in a very charming way, she praised his Parisian accent and said that such a comment did not apply to him and only God knows how Vincent felt inside after that.

The two shared their tastes, such as reading romances and watching Dix pour cent every night before bed. It was as if they knew each other much more than the 1 hour they spent together under the snow. They shared maybe two more cigarettes before realizing it was getting a little too late to chat like that on the street.

He doesn't even know how he got out of that situation alive and managed to get home with her number.

Their first date was at a local cinema on a Friday night for a re-showing of Buffet Froid, a film Anne had never seen.

He didn't remember the last time he felt butterflies in his stomach, although it was guaranteed that nothing could compare to this time. As he got ready and tried to match his best t-shirts with his beige pants (which he eventually changed out of, finding them too tacky), Vincent remained nervous thinking that she might not show up or that this would be the first and last time they would meet in this circumstance.

In the end, all the “first time” flutter went out the window when he saw her smiling and waving on the other side of the street, already with the tickets in her hand. “I'm glad you came.” She said, holding his arm as they walked through the door of the establishment.

“I wouldn't miss it.” he replied.

The two took watching films very seriously, so it was only during the ending credits, after a lot of laughter, small comments and bumping hands on the popcorn bucket, that the two kissed.

He felt the softness of her skin on his hand and her sweet scent of perfume, in addition, of course, to the hot and saccharine kiss. It was slow, serene, just as they both wanted, being able to feel each other in that moment. It was also Anne's desire to slowly run her fingers through his hair and she didn't hesitate to take advantage of the opportunity.

After throwing their trash away, the two walked out of the cinema, now closer to each other, hand in hand. The weather wasn't as cold as when they first met and they were free to enjoy the warmth of their bodies without so many layers covering them.

“For a great 70's mind, you never having watched Buffet Froid is an insult.” He pointed at her with his free hand, wanting to tease her.

Anne rolled her eyes. Even though she liked the film, she didn't want to give a taste. “Obviously you would like action movies like that. It suits you.”

“I’ll make you like it too.” He stated, trying to imply that he wanted them to meet again, to which she responded by kissing his cheek and saying, “Next time, let's watch a romcom.”

Once, twice, three, four and a few more times, all being unusual dates. Sometimes she would call during his workday and say she would pick him up for an adventure. She drove aimlessly, just the two of them talking about their days and observing the city lights. These were Vincent's favorite “dates”, as they all ended with the two of them making out like two teenagers parked in the driveway of his apartment.

The more he got to know about her, the more he wanted to constantly be a part of her life. Anne owned a clothing store downtown, something he never tired of saying was the “most suitable job her”. On the last date they had, she took him to the closed store and put on a fashion montage for him, with improvised note cards on paper left on the counter and all. But she knew that the judge had been bought when he only gave her 10s. She also took the opportunity to get Vincent to do the same, putting him once again out of his comfort zone to find out that bell bottom jeans don't really suit him.

They even got to watch a car race - something that not even Anne had done, she had just decided that it was an experience they needed to have. They both entended up hating it, but the important thing was that the company was great.

That was one of the nights Anne slept at his house.

They ate some junk food from the fridge and watched a silly but captivating show on TV while they chatted more. When she realized she could sleep at any moment, Anne got up to brush her teeth and change her clothes, putting on her uniform for whenever she was there: a Vincent t-shirt.

Vincent found it charming how she captivated his gaze regardless of what she was doing. He loved her unique and sophisticated style, but he also loved seeing her like this, casually wearing his clothes, in his home, as if she were his. And lastly, he loved seeing her with nothing on.

Every detail of her body, her birthmarks on her shoulder and that one next to her beautiful eyes or her stretch marks on her back, everything about her seemed to have been chosen down to the millimeter. When they made love, his hands went everywhere, trying to reach as much of her as he could, to feel the warmth she exuded.

And the best way to love her was by looking into her eyes, admiring her beauty, running his lips up and down her body, being grateful for the privileged position it was to be able to love her.

Mornings were like nights, with him waking up earlier and being able, once again, to admire the woman beside her.

“You are even more beautiful in the morning.”

The two walked through the streets of Paris, both tipsy, looking for an available taxi in the dead of night. With their relationship now more established and their schedules aligned, they made it a challenge to come up with these unusual date only once a month so it wouldn't lose its fun. Today had been the day to go to the opera and due to their lack of sobriety, they didn't seem to have left anywhere other than the shabbiest bar on the corner.

The event was boring as fuck and they left halfway through to drink somewhere more enjoyable. They found an open bar showing a PSG versus Marseille match. Neither of them supported the teams or understood about football rules, but this seemed like a new opportunity for them to have another different experience that day.

One laughter after another, some passionate kisses between drinks and the two were celebrating PSG's victory at the bar with some strangers whom they befriended.

“My mother wants to meet you. My brother too. I said I might have a lawyer for the next time he's up to no good. Do you think it’s too early?”

When drunk, Anne tended to speak fast and slurred, but Vincent understood perfectly. He smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing the tip of her nose. “I will love meeting your family.”

They never actually asked each other to go steady, but it was clear that they already belonged to each other at that point.

Vincent was on his cell phone writing a text to his mother about the shopping list for Christmas dinner and their desire to participate in decorating the tree (Anne's request to spend more time with her mother-in-law) while his girlfriend was lying on his lap reading his copy of Around the World in 80 Days (and she was loving it, for sure).

It was a lazy day for both of them at Vincent's place. A year into their relationship, the two of them loved sharing these moments together doing different activities.

“She said she misses you a lot and looks forward to seeing you on Christmas, but that you're banned from being near the kitchen when it is time to prepare desserts. Everything you touch that’s sweet ends up burning for some reason.”

Her smile, excited by her mother-in-law's affection, turned into a face indignant at the rule she imposed. "What?" She looked up from the book and pulled Vincent's hand to check if the message was real and it was. “This is so unfair!”

“Sorry, Anne, you’re just really bad at this.”

She lightly pushed his arm and pretended to be uncomfortable, although she knew it was true and wasn't really upset. Before she could return to her book, Vincent placed his cell phone on the table and began talking.

“One more thing, huh,” he cleared his throat, “I made one more space on the rack for you. I don't want certain clothes to get wrinkled in the drawer. I’ll make room in one more drawer too.”

Anne put the book aside and knelt on the sofa, facing her boyfriend. “Won’t it bother you? I already have space in my bedroom drawer, bathroom… In fact, there are a lot of my things scattered around the house. I don’t want to impose my space here.”

This was a subject that she had also been waiting to comment on for some time. By working her own hours at the store and having an employee to take her place wherever needed, Anne had a more flexible schedule than Vincent and it was easier to stay at his house, helping to keep everything on track and cooking for both of them. He would arrive just before dinner time and they could enjoy together without rushing to do the chores.

Because of this, the few clothes she wore just to sleep there became a drawer full, her makeup in the bathroom sink and her shoes near the door.

The gray-haired man hugged her around the waist, kissing her forehead and assuring her of his action. “You are not imposing anything, mon chéri. I want you to use this space. I want to have more and more of you here.”

For him, having her scent permeate the rooms was a gift wrapped in the best bow. Knowing that every day he would come home to see her welcoming smile and welcome kiss was the biggest work incentive.

“It feels like my home.” She whined.

“It’s your home. Our home.” He insisted.

In his favorite action, he cupped her face and looked warmly into her eyes, admiring her features trying to associate with what he was trying to say. They both smiled at each other realizing where the topic was going.

“Are you…”

“I want you to move in with me.”

The beautiful smile that filled his heart appeared on her face and Vincent, who was sure of her choice, but a little afraid of her accepting it, smiled too at her positive reaction.

In conclusion, he ended up needing to make more closet space for her countless boots, but he was happy that she could call the space her own (and she looks great in those boots, he would never complain about making room for them).

The snack table was almost empty and that made Anne happy. She might not be good at desserts, but her food was always praised and she almost never had leftovers when she cooked for her friends.

“This sandwich is delicious, aunt Anne!” Daniel stated, taking another one from the table and sitting on the sofa next to her. “Can I take some home?”

“Of course you can! There’s more stored in the kitchen, I’ll put it on the side for you to take.” She continued, now coming closer to whisper. “You can give Snoop a bite, I won’t tell your mom.”

“Hey, I’m watching you two!” Sandra said towards the back of the sofa, pointing at the two jokingly. She was talking to Vincent leaning against the wall in the hallway, looking anxious.

There was approximately 10 people spread throughout the room at this gathering. The couple chose to host a celebration for the launch of Sandra's new book, a dear friend of both, and tried to make room for everyone present. She was very delighted with the honor, although unaccustomed to the positive attention she was receiving.

Even though they weren't glued to each other at the party, Anne and Vincent always stopped for a moment to exchange a kiss and ask if everything was okay. He, even more so, couldn't stop admiring his girlfriend from afar. Parties like this always made him happy to be able to share the love he had for her and also show others that this was his girl.

It was around 6pm that they said their goodbyes and thanked their friends for being there. After closing the door, Anne took a deep breath and leaned against it with Vincent kissing her neck and hugging her waist.

“Had fun today?” He asked against her neck, kissing slowly until he reached her face. Hugging him back, she just nodded yes, pulling him into a longing and passionate kiss.

Vincent pressed his body against hers and tightened his grip, placing his free hand against the wall for support. Everything was going well, until Vincent suddenly stopped, as if he couldn't give in to temptation yet.

He also took a deep breath, with a shy smile as he looked at her.

“Is something wrong?” She asked, still leaning against the door and resting her hands on his shoulder.

"What?" He retorted.

“During the party, you kept looking at me like that, with those heart-eyes, that fool in love face of yours. And now you're doing it again. It seems... different.”

Vincent laughed awkwardly, as if he was unprepared to respond that quickly. “In my defense, I always look like a fool in love when I’m with you.”

Before anything else, Vincent took a red velvet box out of his pocket and opened it, showing a silver ring made especially for her. With the hand that was on her waist, he slipped into her hand and intertwined their fingers.

“Kneeling isn’t your style, nor are long speeches in front of our friends, but I can’t just leave the ring in your hand without saying anything. The day I saw you for the first time, I was intrigued. The second time, that feeling I had of needing to talk to you urgently, of not letting the opportunity pass, I think, somehow, I knew we were going to get to this moment right now. By the third time - I was already in love. Head over heels, worshiping the ground you pass, heart-eyes, whatever you want to call it. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't feel those butterflies in my stomach before seeing you, that I don't feel the eager to be by your side. If you do me the honor of marrying me, I can promise that you will have a man who wakes up in love with you every day. Forever.”

Anne's eyes were already full of tears as soon as she saw the box and she couldn't help but shed them when she heard the proposal.

The last 4 years of their lives were instinctive, passionate, in a way she never thought she would experience. All her last lovers didn't last long, they couldn't handle her personality or couldn't love her right, so she was left with no hope that it would change. But Vincent's speech was something that she not only believed, she felt. Every day, she felt his love, his affection and his care. Wave of action speaks louder than words and she trusted her man.

There was no other answer than yes.

The same word was repeated by the two of them at the registry office a few months later. The idea was never a big party, it didn't suit either of their personalities, but Anne always wanted a dress and a veil, so they were both there, in their wedding clothes just before lunch time in the registry office next to Vincent's work place.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!”

With that sentence, the two shared a classic wedding kiss, with Vincent holding her around the waist and Anne throwing her leg up. They could live that moment over and over again, but they needed to go out for a little celebration party with their friends before they left for their honeymoon (and Anne was more than eager to have her friends around so she could toss the bouquet).

Outside, in another snowy day, Anne reached through the car window and took a black bag from the glove compartment, handing it to her now husband.

“What is it?” He held on, swinging by the loop to feel the weight so he could find out what it could be.

“It's your wedding gift.” She cheerfully replied.

He stole one more kiss from his wife before opening the bag, already imagining what could be inside.

“It has our initials and today’s date on it,” she pointed to the bottom where the details were, “so no other girl coming out of court will need to offer you the lighter.”

Vincent took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lit it with his newest gift, but without inhaling, just lighting it for the sake of it.

“No one will have my love. Only you, mon chéri."

[deandoesthingstome]

Haunted Fantasy

Pairing: Ghost!Mike x Reader

Summary: Just a little fun.

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: 18+, NO MINORS, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), p in v (doggy style), monster fucking (right?).

A/N: This is about half as short as the others, but I still love it and I hope you do, too. This is my first time writing for Mike as main and I hope I did him justice for those of you who live for this guy.

A/N 2: For those of you who picked a different character for this visit, just know, you weren't entirely wrong. He's coming.

A/N 3: And finally, at one point I had imagined these chapters could all stand alone. Walter feels differently, so maybe check out the masterlist if you're new here.

Fantasy Hotel Masterlist

August was a hit just like you knew he would be. Maybe your best writing yet. Something about the experience with him just brought it out of you and the story flowed from your fingertips to the keyboard as soon as you stepped into your apartment the next morning. 

Yes, you had sprung for an actual overnight. And though he didn’t sleep with you, he was there when you fell asleep and woke again the next day. Apologizing, if you could believe it. He felt he hadn’t truly given you the strict dom experience you had asked for and wondered if he could talk you into a do-over. Maybe even throw in an add-on for free.

You were flattered, but assured him the night had been wonderful and you’d definitely felt satiated this morning. You did want to ask about the…sounds you’d heard the night before, but something told you it wouldn’t be received well so you just thanked him again, enjoyed a little morning coffee while you showered and changed, then headed home. 

Where the story practically wrote itself and was up on the site by the evening.

MNstrluvr: what do you mean? sendmeanangel: it was like someone knew I was in there with August MNstrluvr: so you DO think it was him sendmeanangel: idk. Probably just wishful thinking darkgothnightengale: you have it so bad for him don’t you? sendmeanangel: it’s ridiculous. He must have seen dozens of women in a month or two. I don’t know why i would think he’d be thinking of me ever darkgothnightengale: because August said as much. And Sy too for that matter MNstrluvr: yeah, didn’t Sy tell you Walter rarely uses his gifts during visits? And August said he’d see you at the window. He has it bad for you, too, no doubt sendmeanangel: it doesn't matter anyway. I don’t even know his last name. And i haven’t been able to find any available bookings for him for weeks.   darkgothnightengale: well, are you at least going back? sendmeanangel: if i do, i need something lighter. The room, the bite, August…it was all so intense.  MNstrluvr: so the ghost? sendmeanangel: the ghost

When you closed the door to room 7-743, you found yourself in what looked like the living room of every house on every sitcom you'd ever seen. TV. Couch. Dad's recliner. Coffee table. End tables. A few bookshelves. A fireplace. Standard middle-class scenery. Nothing ornate or fancy. But also, no bed.

You wondered if the door across from the entry led to a bathroom, or another room, similar to the suite you'd found yourself in with August. Before you could step to the other side of the room to find out, a chill passed through the air around you and just as suddenly, as if to counter the effect, a roaring fire eased to life in the fireplace.

"That's better."

"Hello?" you called out in response to the voice, that was both a whisper and a warm tenor in your ear. "Is anyone there?"

Nothing. No answer. Despite the fire next to you, you felt goosebumps and crossed your arms to rub your hands over your skin.

Another deep breath before you continued across the room, determined to see what was behind the other door. Before you made it, an end table lamp switched on.

"Who's there?" You turned in place, looking for any form in the room that could have turned the light on. You were starting to wonder if this was not the haunting you’d signed up for. As you turned again, you felt a cool breeze drift across your chest, and while it felt nice, it also felt a little invasive. “This isn’t funny.”

“Easy, sweet cheeks. It’s just me.” A not-totally opaque figure appeared right in front of you, wide-eyed and with an apologetic smile. “I probably took that introduction too far. I’m Mike.”

You reached your hand for his and grasped nothing but air while he grinned like a fool at you.

“Cute,” you smiled back, even while wondering if you’d ever get to place your hands on something solid this evening.

“Why, thank you,” he took a small bow as you reached to smack his shoulder and found your hand drifting through air again.

“I wasn’t talking about you,” you laughed.

“Oh? You don’t find me pleasant to look at?” Mike grabbed at his chest and stumbled back as if deeply wounded, and for a moment you thought you really had hurt his feelings. “That’s alright. I have a feeling I can change your mind.” Mike stood tall and wiggled his eyebrows at you. Yeah, he definitely had the height you’d come to desire. You wondered about the rest.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to imply… I was just talking about the…” you waved your hand through the air to indicate his less-than-corporeal state and threw a worried look on your face to match your concern that you’d flubbed this meeting already.

Mike let out a full body laugh. “Don’t worry. I’m only joking. You’re free to like whatever looks you like. Wanna sit?” He swept a transparent arm toward the couch as an invitation. You sat on one side, while he drifted down to the other. “You did know you booked the ghost room, right?”

“I did. I don’t know what I was expecting. Not that, obviously. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize, but I should ask. Do you want me to stay in this form?”

“You mean this form that I can’t actually feel?” you teased.

Again as if floating, Mike sidled over the length of the couch and right on next to you. You still couldn’t feel a physical connection, no matter how close to you he appeared to be, though the shiver that ran through your body was certainly not due to his cool temperature. He really was cute, no matter what little word games you’d started to play with him.

“It’s that much of a bummer, huh?”

“I mean…”

“Okay, look. I can do one, or the other, or both.”

“Both?” You were intrigued.

“Yeah, but honestly. This can be good and I’d love to show you. Doesn’t have to be now, though. We can start solid.” Mike raised an eyebrow at you and waited for your nod.

“I think for the storyline, it makes more sense, yeah?”

“Oh, fuck!” he exclaimed, suddenly off the couch as if embarrassed. “I totally spaced that! Yeah, yeah, of course. The scene.”

You laughed out loud. This guy was honestly a trip already and you weren’t even naked. In the next moment, you could suddenly no longer glimpse the room through his translucent form and you stood and took another moment to take it in fully.

Black Chucks, dark-washed blue jeans almost too tight around the thighs and definitely supporting a package that appeared to match his predecessors, plain white tee, and a black leather motorcycle jacket. The perfect delinquent boyfriend planning to sneak into the house once the kids you were watching were sound asleep, their parents still several hours away from returning for the evening. To be fair, you weren't sure how you expected a solid form host to deliver the ghost fantasy, but thankfully it sounded like Mike had a plan. And that had to be plenty of time for some fun.

“I’ll step out for a minute. Reset the scene, okay?” he tilted his adorable head full of somewhat unruly curls at you, gave a ridiculous wink and exited the room. 

You settled back down on the couch, grabbed the random book sitting on the end table and started to thumb through the pages, as if just settling down after putting the kids to bed. The passage you flipped to caught your attention and you barely even noticed that you’d read through several pages before a loud bump sounded on the ceiling above you, followed by the sound of chains dragging before the window behind you started rattling.

“Jesus! What the fuck!” you exclaimed, already forgetting the story you’d put yourself in. You set your book down and stood, ear tilted up waiting for more noise before you stepped to the window, placing a palm against the glass to still the shaking. You checked the lock and found it holding, so imagined yourself safe again.

You sat back down, picked up the book, flipped a few more pages before you decided to turn on the TV, first glancing at your watch to check the time. He’s got to be close now, you thought. This was the time I told him to come. The kids are out like lights.

The TV sprang to life with a scary movie already in progress. You recognized it and wished Mike were here, already. If you knew the time marker, you were about to be scared out of your wits. The imagery always made you jump, no matter how many times you saw it. Almost on queue, a heavy knock sounded at the door, just as the jump scare presented on screen, and you could swear you heard the chains rattling again.

At your shriek, the door burst open and Mike had you in his arms.

“You okay, sweet cheeks? I heard a scream just as I got here. Sorry I was late.”

“Mike! There’s something in the house. Plus this godforsaken movie.” You clung to your temporary boyfriend, trembling in his arms.

“Whoa, whoa, something in the house?” he inquired with concern. “Want me to take a look?”

“NO! Stay here with me,” you implored him. “Please, Mike.”

“Okay, okay. Come on, let’s sit. But if we hear something else, I’m checking it out, okay?”

You agreed and took a spot on the couch, waiting for Mike to take off his jacket and sit down as well. You cuddled up next to him, curling your knees under you and leaning against his side. You draped a hand over his chest and could hardly stifle a small smile as you felt his firm body beside you. His arm wrapped around your shoulder and his hand and fingers caressed your upper arm. 

The movie only got a few more moments of your eyes before Mike’s hand began to wander further and further from your upper arm to instead drape down the front of your collarbone and onto your breast. At your soft moan, Mike gave a small squeeze as if testing the waters further and your response gave him permission to begin to knead in earnest as he bent his head to capture your lips with his.

His kiss was hungry and erratic, a little messy partly due to the orientation of your bodies, which Mike took upon himself to remedy. As deftly as anyone had ever been, he simultaneously withdrew his arm from around your shoulder, turned and pushed you eagerly to your back while he scooped your legs straight to stretch you out beneath him.

He slotted a leg between your thighs and pressed into your tender core as he bent to kiss you again. It was then that you realized the hungry, messy style had nothing to do with body positioning. His tongue swiped over your lips and into your open waiting mouth and you gasped as a hand roamed all over your body, but paid special attention to your breasts.

“Mmm, Mike, that feels so nice,” you moaned.

“I’ll gladly give these amazing tits more attention,” he smirked, pulling the v-neck of your loose t-shirt to give his mouth room to move. You didn’t think about how you would never get the shape back and the shirt was basically ruined, but honestly it wasn’t the most comfortable feeling so you pushed him back a bit to give you space to cross your arms and grab the hem. 

As soon as he saw the motion, he was grappling with your body and the fabric around it with the same frenzy he used to kiss you. It wasn’t exactly a help, but together you removed your shirt and bra, tossing them to the floor as you reclined back to receive him over you again. More kisses, with his lips burning yours and your hands running up his back and neck to grip into his luscious brown wavy hair and hold his face to yours. More grinding of your hips up into his where the growing bulge in his pants pushed into your belly. 

“Fuck, you feel good,” he groaned into your ear before nipping his way down your neck and back onto your chest. Wet, sloppy kisses trailed down the swell of your breast before he wrapped his kissable lips around your ever-hardening bud, licking and nipping and sucking several moans from you before giving the other nipple the same attention.

At the same time you felt fingers trailing down your tummy and into your jeans, where they slipped between the fabric of your underwear and the slick already seeping from you.

“Holy pussy, you are wet!” Mike exclaimed and you giggled, relishing the lightness of the evening. This was simply a little fun, with a bit of strapping young fluff and you were grateful for the time already.

“It’s all for you, baby. I get so wet for you. Can’t wait to feel you.”

Mike dove for your lips again, pressing his tongue into your mouth and his fingers into your burning core. He was driving you crazy and you never wanted it to stop. Mike withdrew his fingers only long enough to pop the button and pull the zipper down on your jeans, allowing more space for his hand to snake behind your panties and curl into your aching cunt.

With what felt like very practiced ease, he stroked and nudged your walls, pushing in and pulling out while he pressed a thumb against your tender pearl. With every new moan of pleasure, Mike slid his fingers a little deeper and crooked them a little more until he found a spot that clearly made you scream in a way that was so completely unlike the one he heard when he re-entered the room that he had to crack a wide grin, knowing he was making you come undone. He kissed the last of your gasps away, still stroking slow and lazily around your soaked folds.

You let him place one last deep kiss on your lips before you gathered your wits and pressed him back, moving up and over to straddle his lap. It was your turn now to kiss him deep while your fingers curled around an article of his clothing and you urged him to lift his arms so you could remove his shirt. With the break of the kiss he found time to ask a quick question.

“Are you sure they won’t be back soon?” he asked, still playing along with the fantasy that you had made up for the room.

“Mike, since when have you cared if you get caught fucking the babysitter?” you teased. 

“You’re right, I don’t. But I think you do, so we have time, right?”

God he was so sweet. “Yeah, baby. We have all the time we need. Now sit back and let me make you feel good.”

You pressed up to standing so you could step your legs inside his and kneel in front of him. Once you’d pulled off his shoes and unbuttoned his jeans, he helped you drag them down with a press of his hips up off the couch. God, you wanted to feel that press into you.

You licked your lips to get ready as you pulled them all the way off, along with his underwear. You were positively salivating. From your spot on the floor, you took him into your mouth and began to bob, slowly at first, building up saliva to lubricate your movements before you started to really go for it.

When he put his hand on the back of your head, the moan you let go reverberated through your body. As you peered up at him through your eyelashes, you saw him toss his head back as he pushed one last time into your throat before he stilled both his hips and your head and held you there, telling you how he was "about to come in that pretty little mouth of yours, just gimme a minute cause I don’t want to finish just yet, and oh fuck!" the moment you wiggled your tongue in your mouth and sent him over the edge.

He had just pulled you back up into his lap, pressing your chest against his and kissing you again, completely unfazed by any lingering come he might encounter as he dipped his tongue into your mouth, when the noise returned.

You jumped right off his lap, grabbing for any shirt you could reach and holding it over your chest.

“Jesus, sweet cheeks. You weren’t joking,” Mike said, bending to grab his pants. “I’m checking it out. Stay here.”

You looked around the room, trying to identify the safest place to huddle up. Why you decided standing with your back against the door was it, you couldn’t really say. Mike stepped back to the door on the opposite side of the room. The one you’d never had a chance to open. You had no idea where he was going.

Or how long he’d be gone.

It had to be two hours later, when you woke up to find yourself curled up on the couch, Mike’s shirt all the way on, your feet freezing. Had you really fallen asleep waiting for Mike to come back? Had you bothered to call anyone? What had happened? 

You heard a door open and shut and sat up quickly, expecting to see Mike returned from wherever but instead you saw nothing. No one was there.

You felt a chill near you for a brief moment before it started to warm against the skin on your back, and you felt the breath on your nape. 

“I told you. I’m gonna take real good care of you,” the voice whispered in your ear while invisible fingertips slipped the shirt from your body, pausing for a moment to appreciate that you hadn’t put your bra back on. You arched into the squeeze and wished that when you lifted your arms behind your head, you’d have been able to grab onto the back of his head as he continued to nuzzle into your neck.

Instead you felt a gentle pull and push that had you backed up against the back of the couch, slouched low so that your jeans came off easily enough. Funnily, you hadn’t bothered to re-zip or button them before you fell asleep apparently.

You didn’t have time to think about that any longer because suddenly, the most amazing, ethereal touch was drifting up one thigh and then the other before settling back inside your pussy. And for a few moments, it felt so familiar and you trusted Mike to get you where you needed to go now, the same way he did then.

But he didn’t. What he did instead was put his ghostly mouth right on your flower, slipping the feeling of a tongue deep in your core as if he were a bee seeking the nectar. There was nothing for you to do but enjoy it. There was no head to clasp onto, no hands to reach for, no face to caress. There was only the exquisite feeling of having your pussy eaten, with licks and sucks in the exact right combination to keep you moaning and begging for mercy even though he knew you could take more.

You were right there, almost there, you could feel it and then it was suddenly gone and your eyes sprung open when you heard the voice in your ear.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I could do that all night, but fuck what I really want right now is to bend you over and fuck you. Can I do that? I’ll go back down if that’s what you want, but I would love to make you come all over my cock. Wrapped of course.”

You were dumb-struck, trying to swim back to shore. You’d been so close and you thought it was over, but every word that dripped out of his mouth made you clench around nothing and you wanted to be clenching around something. 

“Fuck yes, Mike. Fuck. Please fuck me,’ you pleaded. 

And you were well rewarded. A gentle, but urgent force shifting you to bend over, knees on the edge of the couch, hands braced against the back. Sounds of crinkly wrapper. Faint rubbery squeaks as he struggled to fit the condom over his erection. Pop of top and cool liquid rubbed into your heat. Tip pressed in, head popped through, length dragging along your insides. In and out and for all you knew there was an actual body behind you, fucking you into the back of this couch like there was no tomorrow. A body you were bucking back against as well.

When you twisted your head back, to try to get a glimpse, to try to see what this guy looked like fucking into you with wild abandon, angling to reach all the good spots, you saw nothing. It was like you were just going through the motions in some kind of fever dream, but it felt so fucking real. 

And it sounded real, too. Because for as many moans and gasps and ohs and fuck yeahs that come out of your mouth, the same number of sensual and mind melting sounds came from him somehow too,

“Fuck, yeah, sweet cheeks. Fuck back onto my cock. Just like that.”

“God Mike, I’m gonna come again.”

“Yeah you are. You’re gonna come all over this cock. Just like that.”

And with that he managed to speed up just enough to send himself careening over the edge, widening and pulsing inside you, so that you, too, got to join him on the trip back to the bottom. From the highest of the highs. You felt like you were floating.

When you woke up again, you were back in Mike’s shirt, a blanket over your lap, and Mike’s arm around you as you rested your head in his lap. Him. Solid Mike. Jeans and socks. Nothing else.

“There you are, sweet cheeks. Have a good nap?’ he grinned down at you.

“I don’t think I had any other choice but to try to recoup some energy after you completely and totally fucked me into the void. I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Mike replied in a tone you could tell was meant to dispel your concern. “Sweet cheeks, we have as long as you need.”

It took you a moment, but you finally realized what he was saying.

“Do you have the same gift Walt, uh, the werewolf, has?” you asked, hoping Mike didn’t hear your slip.

“Yeah, sweet cheeks, Marshall and me have the same gift.”

Well, no luck. Wait a minute…

“Who’s Marshall?” you asked.

“Walter. Walter Marshall. Our werewolf,” Mike answered. “Well, former werewolf.”

It was like a record scratch. You knew now why finding a slot with him had proven so hard lately. And you knew his last name.

Bonus Edit: Absolutely GORGEOUS headers made for me by my wonderful friend in fic @geralts-yenn:

Everything HC Taglist: (as always, let me know if you want on or off)

@sillyrabbit81 @mayloma @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @fvckinghenrycavill @kebabgirl67 @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @just-chirpin @thesaucynomad @valacirca @henryownsme @summersong69 @foxyjwls007 @peyton-warren @irishavengersassemble

Special tag: @kittenofdoomage (cause sometimes you love my stuff and this one's another monster fucker lol!)

Tags from Werewolf!walter (if you commented):

@ellethespaceunicorn @juliaorpll78 @martha-oi @cardierreh15 @cinnamoroll-things @caramariehurst @zombicupcake3 @openup-yourmind @shellyshellshell @nickfowlerrr @greensleeves888 @misshinson @thelastsock @princessaxoo @augustsprincess @justjulie1105 @minimin1993 if you asked and aren't here, Tumblr won’t let me tag you. Sorry!

[impala1967dwinchester]

Sam Winchester: Fate

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pov: Reader/Sam

Warnings: Monsters as usual (Dijnn), depression, pregnancy, fighting

Summary: With Y/n on the run, Sam's depression can't help but get the best of him while the fate of his relationship and child hangs in the balance.

WC- 2.677k

A/n- @firefly-graphics for dividers, This is a part 2 of something I wrote nearly a year ago. "Sam Winchester: Running Away" I

Main Master List // Sam W. Master List

It's weird hiding from the Winchester boys. Weirdly, people are so much nicer to me now. The summer sun in Texas is hot on my back as I walk out of the grocery store. I tried my best to settle down and got a small job at a travel agency. I'm renting a small apartment from an old lady who helped me when I first got off the bus in Bay City.

In the past few months, my body has changed in many ways. I have a larger belly and more cravings than I've ever experienced. I talk to my belly almost every night after I calm down from work. I tell them stories about Sam and Dean. I tell them how their father is a hero, how he's saved the world, and how he has taken my heart with his bright, kind smile.

Like clockwork, every night, there's a message from Sam asking me if I'm doing alright, or begging me if I can just respond. It breaks my heart, but no matter what, I can't bring myself to type back a message. It didn't take long after I walked out of the bunker to know that I was walking away from the person that I love and that my home was disappearing into the background of the Kansas sunset.

Yet I couldn't bear to walk back into the bunker; somewhere in my twisted mind, it told me I had to go. I had to leave it all behind because I wasn't worth it. I wasn't worth the stress, the worry, or anything I might bring down on the Winchester boys.

I thought I had gotten away from it all—the grueling monsters, the death at every corner. I guess I was wrong because one second, I was shopping in a local baby store, and the next, I was somewhere completely different. Some places had air that felt lighter, and some places had my hopes and dreams feel like reality.

There's a warm hand wrapping around my middle. "Good morning, sweetheart." It's a voice I know, a voice I haven't heard in such a long time. One that makes my heart soothe from the racing it's currently doing in my chest. Then, I realize we aren't in the bunker but in a rather nice-looking bedroom. The sound of smaller feet pounding on the ground brings me to look at the doorway. "Anna must be up," Sam says in a whisper, his soft words brushing against my ear and giving me a round of shivers.

Anna comes busting into the bedroom, uncaring to knock on the bedroom door. You think you care but don't after you look at her. Hair as dark as Sams but eyes like yours. A gigantic smile on her chubby cheeks. "MOmmY!" She shouts as she climbs up the bed to get onto your body. You can see Sam out of the corner of your eye. It's a smile you only ever see reserved for you, and you don't know how you managed to be back in his arms and a kid you share together. You're lost in how you got from the store alone pregnant to here in his arms, in bed together with your family.

The feeling stays with you as the day starts, and you watch Sam shift from sweats and a white t-shirt to a pair of shorts and a hawwin shirt. "Aren't you gonna get dressed, baby?" He asks as he catches you staring at him from the bed still. "I… Where are we going?" You ask him, unsure still by the normality of this odd life. "Don't tell me you forgot about the barbecue that Dean invited us to?" He says, a knit-in his brow. You lick your lips and try to think, but there's nothing there, just white clouds that fog your thoughts.

"It's alright if you forgot, babe, just get dressed. It's warm out, so wear that pretty little sun dress you bought a few weeks ago." Sam says as he comes over, planting a kiss on your forehead. "I'm going to get Anna ready, I love you." You stare at the door for a few moments longer, waiting until he's left, and you can hear Sam and Anna talking down the hall. You get up feeling the carpet under your feet and the warmth that radiates through the window.

You do get dressed in the sun dress Sam mentioned. It still had the price tag on it, so you assumed it was the one he was talking about. It fits you perfectly, curved around your hips with ease, and giving everyone who might look at you a perfect display of your breasts. You find a nice pair of sandals and make your way towards the echos of voices.

"There she is," Sam says, happiness and warmth seeping from the kitchen. Anna turns around whipping her head in your direction, she too is dressed in a sundress pinks and purples mixed together with her hair up in braids. "You look good, Mommy," Anna says as she comes over, hugging your leg. You breathe it all in, getting deeper and deeper into it. You aren't sure still unsure how you managed to get here, but you can't say you're mad about it.

The ride to Deans is off, but everything is off for you. Sam can sense it; one hand from the wheel comes to the rest of your exposed knee. "You doin' alright, honey?" he asks, worry laced in his words. You shake your head, giving him more to worry about, but you don't know. All you can think of is the tiny giggles coming from the back seat.

Anna is watching something on a tablet, and her smile glows from whatever she's watching. "Come on, honey. You can talk to me about anything," Sam says, trying to trigger the conversation to continue. "I know, Sam. I'm just trying to be in the moment." You say, and that's the reality of it. Because this moment and the one this morning had been everything you were dreaming about.

"Dean, I just know something is wrong!" I say to my brother as I continue to stare at my phone. The text messages aren't even being read anymore. At least when Y/n was reading them, I knew she was safe; I knew that she was doing alright. I can hear the sigh of frustration fall from my lips as I put the phone back down the library table. "Sam, we can't do anything if she doesn't want us to," Dean says, trying to support both of us.

I lift my head, staring angrily at my brother. "I don't give a shit anymore. I don't care why she ran away. I don't care at all. I just want her back in my life. Now I'm pretty sure Charlie can figure out where she is." I huff out. With a grunt and shake of his head, he's got his phone beside his ear, calling our good friend Charlie.

I can hear the slight argument between Dean and Charlie as I sit, waiting for a quick answer. "I know, but can you just help us. Y/n hasn't been reading." Dean says, looking over at me. "She hasn't been looking at Sam's messages. Can you just give us a location so we can restart this?" Dean finishes. There's mumbling on the other side of the phone, but then I see Dean hidden. "Okay, text that to me, Charlie. Thank you," he says and then drops the phone from his cheek.

ASnxeity has set in when we get to where Y/n has been staying for the past few months. Her car is there, but the door to her apartment is cracked open; my blood runs cold, and just like that, I'm set on finding her. Dean tries to calm me and reminds me that not everything is terrible. She might just be doing something, like taking out the trash.

I glare at him and bring my gun from my hip to sweep through her apartment. Baby books and a few baby clothes are in the living room. Her bedroom is perfect as if she had never made it home. "Is she just taking out the trash now, Dean?" I snark at him, "I was trying to help. So… we have to work this like a case now?" Dean questions, I nod, and just like that, I'm searching for Y/n all over again.

Dean is wearing a Hawaiian shirt, and the kids run all over the house. His wife easily kisses his cheek, and he holds her close to his side. "Uncle De!" Anna screams, and Dean smiles broader and brighter than you've ever seen him. "Hey, kiddo," Dean says warmly as he picks her up and puts her on his hip. "You guys made it." Dean's wife says, and she comes over to give you a hug.

"What about us, baby girl?" a stranger asks. When I turn, I'm struck by the Winchesters' parents—happy, healthy, and very much alive. "Hey, Dad," Sam says happily, hugging his father and wrapping his mother tightly. You watch as the day goes on with absolute ease. Dean talks about adding a new portion to the Winchester auto shop; John lights up with joy at the idea of more business and growth for the business he's known since he was a young adult.

Sam holds you close to his chest as you two dance in the yard, the sky turning purple and orange. You rest your head on his chest and let the movement of your feet guide you into contentment. "You know I love you, right?" Sam asks you as his large hands hold your waist and back. You hum, but you are not willing to open your closed eyes. "And you know you are everything I've ever wanted, right? No matter what happens between the two of us, I'll always want you." Sam says you can feel the tears brimming in your lashes.

"I know Sam." Your voice cracks and gives away the way tears are threatening to fall. "I love you too." As you lift onto your tiptoes in the cool grass, you mutter back and press a needy kiss to his lips. You two are sadly interrupted by John. "Anna is sleeping; if you wanna, you guys can come to pick her up tomorrow." John offers, and Sam pulls me closer. "Thanks, Dad." He tells his dad, then turns to me, "Let's go home." You nod and take his hand in yours.

"What did I fucking tell you!?" I knew she was in trouble; I knew something was wrong. To be the cherry on top, she's pregnant, and she's been taken for whatever fucking reason. "It's just a dinner. We've dealt with enough of them to know the deal," Dean says. I slam the trunk of the baby shut, my molars grinding as I look at the depleted cave that's currently holding my girl and baby prisoner in a fake world.

Of her own imagination.

The silver blade drips all over the ground as I enter the cave. The dark walls hold secrets and horror that I hope and wish Y/n would never experience. It's all a blank somewhere between entering the cave and getting to Y/n. The only thing I feel is the splatter of blood onto my face and my eyes searching for that beautiful face.

She doesn't look like she's been there for too long, but her arms hang above her head, her belly prodding out. I'm stuck standing still over the djinn. Dripping its own blood back onto the dead man, Dean is quick to get over to Y/n, pulling the attachments out of her arm and pulling her down gently.

"Sam, get your ass over here. We… we are gonna have to take her to the hospital." Dean says, and somewhere in my frozen mind, my legs move to get a closer look at her. Her cheeks are a little sunken, but her face is still full of color. I know why Dean said we would have to take her to the hospital.

It's not too long before the large white building in Texas appears in the Impala's view. "I'm going to stop by the emergency doors to help your girl and that baby get some help. I nod and wait for the red letters to appear. A nurse is already waiting for us, and she takes a view of Y/n. "What happened?" the nurse asks, and for a moment, I think of telling the truth, but something else comes out. Something like, "She went for a walk a few hours ago, and then I didn't hear anything back from her." I say, my voice wanting to crack. The nurse nods, and I follow them for as long as possible.

Y/n is stuck in the cold hospital room for way too long. Fluids and IV being run into her system, the baby had been pretty much okay. Besides needing extra fluids, everything was fine, according to the doctors. They allowed me to stay in the room with her. The ICU has too many beeping machines, and there's constantly a team over Y/n making sure her and the baby's vitals are alright.

"Sam," A small voice calls out. "Y/n," I say, alerting half of the ICU floor that she's awake. She smiles slightly and then looks around her surroundings. "Where… why am I here, Sam?" She asks me. The happiness that was once there filters out and hits the bottom of my stomach. "You… Dean and I took care of what caught you," I answer her. "What caught me?" The heart machine starts to pick up speed. "Calm down, baby, please. I need you to breathe slowly and out before I tell you." I say to Y/n. She takes a few breaths and then squeezes my hand, wanting me to continue.

"You were caught by a djinn," I say, swallowing hard. It took Dean and me about three days to find you and another two beforehand to figure out something was wrong." There's silence from Y/n, and then she looks up at me with tears. "What about our baby?" she asks. I nod. The baby is fine; I did all sorts of tests to ensure everything was good," I tell her.

The silence continues until Y/n brings her attention up from her belly. "I saw a few things." "Did you?" I ask, wondering if she's going to explain. "I saw us, Dean, and your parents. I saw a life I so desperately wanted with you but thought I wasn't allowed to have with you because of our life." She says with a heavy sadness in her voice. "I thought I had to leave to take that burden away from you and Dean. I thought…" She hiccups, and tears roll down her cheeks.

"Baby, you will never be a burden to me, nor will our kid. I want nothing more than for you to come home so I can keep both of you safe and protected. I worried about you every single minute of every single day. It was hard to know that you thought you would be better off elsewhere." I say to her, wrapping her tightly in a much-needed hug.

"How'd you know where I was?" She asks when I release her from the hug. "I had Dean call Charlie," I say without a single ounce of regret. She giggles a little, "It wasn't funny; I'm pretty sure the next time we see the girl, she's gonna slap me across my face." Dean says, making us both look up at him.

"Thank you." Y/n says, "Of course, you're family, after all." Dean says from his spot in the doorway. When can I go home?" She asks, "Let me go get the nurse, and we will figure it out, baby." I say, letting go of her hand before pressing a kiss on her temple and running out to get a nurse.

Completed on: 03/15/24

Posted on: 03/15/24

[catt-leya]

Hi! You can use this as a pretext to write a fic that has been on ur mind or post something that is in ur drafts :)

I absolutely love your writing, it lights up my day when u post! Thank you for sharing a piece of ur imagination with us :)

<3

Seduction Pt.2 (18+++) || Rick Grimes

First of all I would like to thank you for your sweet words 💞 It means so much to me when there are people I can make happy with my fics 💗 and massages like that light up MY day 💗👉🏼👈🏼

Writing is fun, but hearing that others enjoy reading my fantasies and daydreams or have new ideas about my stories is why I post my fics in the first place 💗💗💗

To be honest, I don't really know what to say about the story, except that I've probably never written anything so filthy and dirty 👉🏼👈🏼

But that's what we're here for, right? 👀

(And yes I admit that I'm totally into what I wrote there hihi)

Trigger: Breeding, How much dirty talk do you want? YES.

You notice that your sleep is getting lighter and lighter and you dig your face deeper into the source of warmth that lies beneath you.

The floor is hard and uncomfortable, but your head is softly bedded and you sigh softly. You haven't lain so well in a long time and you don't want to open your eyes at all, but when you feel a hand dangerously low on your back, you immediately startle.

With your eyes wide open, you stare at the man next to you, who only grunts slightly and otherwise hardly notices that you are no longer abusing him as a living pillow with integrated heat function.

Hectically, you look around, but it seems to be so early that everyone is still asleep and only Daryl is missing, who is surely making his rounds.

Slowly your heart calms down as well and you look again at the man next to you.

Rick's chest rises and falls with deep breaths and you can't help but stare at him. In sleep, all tension leaves his features and he looks so much younger.

As he lies there so vulnerable you can't even imagine him as the dominant leader who would cross many boundaries.

His dark curls stand out wildly in all directions and you can't help but grin. This man is perfect from head to toe and because you fell asleep before him last night, it can only mean that he wanted to sleep next to you.

Your eyes slide over his long lashes and then to his beard, where you could count more gray hairs every day, that's when the hand behind you moves and pushes you back onto his chest more forcefully than you expected.

You bite your tongue to keep from making a sound and he murmurs sleepily, "I feel you staring at me."

His voice sounds like he's swallowed a rubbing iron, and that alone makes you wet again.

Still his eyes are closed and you whisper softly, "I'm sorry."

Your chin is resting on his chest and because he surprisingly pulled you back against him, you had to intercept yourself with your hand on his shoulder, which now allows you to place your hand just below his neck and gently tug on his beard.

He growls softly and you take it as a statement that he likes it. Apparently, he seems to like it so much that he lets his hand wander from your back to your butt. It's such a male gesture that you giggle softly and he opens his eyes sleepily as he presses your butt against his hip, "What's so funny?"

Your thigh brushes a spot more awake than Rick's head at that and you're about to answer when you hear some movement come to your companions and you shake your head, "Nothing. Shall we go?"

Rick looks like he's about to protest, but then lets go of you and straightens up with you.

It takes some time for everyone to get ready to continue on their way with no real destination.

Out of habit, you continue on in your group with Glenn at your side, so in your mind you don't keep looking at Rick for once. Glenn has to address you twice before you even realize he's talking to you, "Sorry, I wasn't listening. What did you say?"

It's amazing where he gets his positive energy from as he nudges you in the side, " I was just asking how you slept tonight."

Immediately you look to Rick, who is again walking at the front of the group, wondering if Glenn is hinting at something, but knowing him, he wouldn't just ask you, he'd go right for it.

While you formulate a rather clumsy answer for Glenn, without telling about the thing between you and Rick, your gaze rests on Rick the whole time and once again he senses it.

But, instead of ignoring it as usual, he now looks over his shoulder directly into your eyes and you stumble over your own feet for a moment before catching yourself.

Already this morning, he's noticed that something's wrong with you and you're acting strangely, so he calls out to you, "Come over here."

At first you don't respond, but Glenn gives you a not-so-gentle nudge, "Come on. Don't miss it."

Not wanting to make a fool of yourself, you take quick steps toward the man of your dreams.

You realize Glenn is watching you closely and already want to ask Rick what he needs from you, but as soon as you're within his reach, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you to his side without slowing his stride.

A quiet "Oh" slips from your lips and you look up at him, "Rick?"

Briefly he looks down at you and his hand slides from your waist to your hip, "Huh?"

A slight panic rolls over you knowing that many if not all of you can see exactly where Rick's hand is and really you should be pleased that he's standing by you, but still you mumble, "You wanted to see me?"

Rick looks ahead again and as his hand slides into your back pants pocket in teenage fashion, you flinch and he replies, "Relax. I can guess why you're being weird today."

All you're thinking right now is Rick's hand is on my ass and everyone can see it AND it doesn't bother you.

Your whole left side is pressed against his right and he's walking a little slower so you can keep up with him.

With each step you relax a little more and he squeezes your ass briefly before saying harshly, "You know, I had reservations at first too. That's why I never tried anything. But what do you care what the others think? The world is cruel, and shouldn't you take any happiness you can get?"

Your mouth goes dry, "Those…are wise words."

Again he looks at you and winks arrogantly, "I know."

Your muscles loosen more and more and you can no longer suppress a girlish giggle.

Your laughter makes Rick's heart skip a beat and he presses you even closer to his side. Your little body is made to be held by him and your butt is so good in his hand that he's not even ashamed that it's such a youthful touch and his cock is responding to it as well.

In comfortable silence you walk side by side and you even forget that you don't have a roof over your head and you should probably be much more worried.

The longer you walk, the later and cooler it gets and you notice goosebumps covering your arms.

Rick notices it, too, and lowers his head to whisper in your ear, "You can have my jacket."

As soon as he talks about his brown leather jacket with the fur collar, you groan softly.

You want to take him up on his offer, but you realize you won't be hiking much longer and you don't want to hold up the group for the last few yards before camp, so you shake your head, "It's okay. Once we make camp."

The cold makes your nipples stick out painfully and Rick can't help but look. You don't even seem to notice that he's no longer looking ahead, but is watching your breasts, which bob along slightly with each step and are now clearly visible under the thin fabric of your top.

They are crying out to be taken in his mouth and as you lift your arm to brush some strands on your face and you push your breasts a little further forward, it also presses in his pants and he raises his voice hoarsely, "That's enough for today. We'll set up camp here."

He feels your surprised look on him, but just pushes you ahead of him as he calls out to the others, "We're going to find wood."

You catch a brief glimpse of Glenn, grinning from ear to ear, before you're pushed into the woods by Rick.

With both hands on your hips, he carries you deeper and deeper into the woods, and you mutter nervously, "You don't want to collect wood, do you?"

Raucously he laughs against your ear, "Fuck no."

Still pushing you forward, he slides one hand from your hip to your breast and pinches your nipple. Surprised, you gasp, "Rick?"

You look up at him over your shoulder and he finally stops, "I can't take it anymore."

Completely confused, you try to push his hand off your chest, but fail miserably, "What?"

He takes a step toward you and presses his hard cock against your ass, "Not being inside you."

His words hit you right where they belong and you let go of his hand on your chest, "Rick."

His head falls forward and he laughs softly, "You speak in monosyllables."

In fact, you really can't get much else past your lips and let Rick lead you to a tree. He takes your hands and places them on the trunk, "Brace yourself."

You just focus on breathing as he unzips your pants and they fall to your ankles along with your panties.

The cool air hits your wet center and you look over your shoulder at Rick, who has a few strands falling down his face and he doesn't bother to brush them away.

You don't dare make a sound and then he growls in a low voice, "Let's see how badly your pussy needs me."

Your heart and center throbs as he gets down on his knees behind you and looks right between your legs.

His warm breath brushes your thighs and you are almost ashamed of how wet you are by now, even though he barely touches you.

You don't see what he's doing and wince as his finger long since passes through your slit and your head falls forward, "Oh God."

Rick's shoulder presses against your leg and you're about to beg when he spreads your pussy lips and your reaction to him is ridiculously strong that your knees buckle and he catches you just in time to tease, "No resistance from you at all? You're just going to let me play with your pussy twitching because you want my cock inside you?"

His filthy words finish you off and you whimper pitifully, "Yes."

He presses a wet kiss to your ass and growls, "Good. So you know that your pussy is only there to be fucked by me? That you'll always spread your legs for me so I can slide my hard cock into your wet and begging little pussy?"

Your hands slide off the tree and you breathe, "Yes, Rick."

Supporting you, he stands up, knowing he might need it even more than you do, but thinking even more clearly, so he grabs your chin and forces you to look him in the eye as he says, "Once I start, I can't stop."

You press your ass against his boner and with arousal his southern accent that you love so much about him gets wider than it usually is, "Fuck, I want to cum inside you. Do you understand?"

Slowly it penetrates your fogged brain that you don't have condoms or other protection and you roll over in your head when you last had your period.

Of course, it's anything but safe and responsible, but you gasp softly, "Okay."

The moan you get in response is reward enough for you, and the sound of his belt buckle undoing makes you shiver with anticipation.

Swinging, he spins you around in his arms so you can look at him and he kisses you hard on the lips.

The pure power he radiates makes you moan and he presses your back against the tree. The fact that you can barely move doesn't matter to you at all, because with every move he makes you feel how much he wants you and he can barely hold back.

Hectically, Rick tugs his pants just far enough over his hips so that his cock is free and he can press it against your lower belly.

It's been years since he fucked a woman, let alone ever wanted to fuck anyone even remotely as much as he wants to fuck you.

When he's had a free and undisturbed minute, he's jerked off thinking about you before, and now being so close to his goal almost makes him lose it.

Your hands dig into his longer hair and he lifts you a little so you're standing on your tiptoes and he grabs his cock with one hand, "I want you to beg me to fuck you."

You barely recognize his voice and look at him with wide eyes as he strokes your entrance with his tip without penetrating you.

Whimpering, you squirm and curl your fingers into his upper arms, "Please."

Again he strokes through your swollen pussy and you try to lower yourself onto him, but he's stronger, giving you no other chance than to pant frantically, "Please, I'm so ready for you. Fuck, please show me how hard you can fuck me. What my pussy is good for."

Briefly, his eyes flutter shut before he looks back at you and penetrates you agonizingly slowly.

Inch by inch he stretches you for his cock, and your muscles are already contracting again and again, pulling him deeper inside you, making him mumble hoarsely, "I knew you were tight yesterday, but fuck you're amazing."

You're about to let a man fuck you against a tree in the woods, and you can't bring yourself to speak anything but inarticulate stammering and whimpering. But even with Rick, the vein on his neck comes out clearly as he pulls himself together to not come already without being completely inside you.

You feel so incredibly good that he can't help but sink the last of his cock deep inside you and force his tongue into your mouth.

Just as you wanted him as deep inside you as possible before, you now try to avoid him by standing even further on your toes because he's so deep inside you, but Rick pushes you back down and you howl, "Too much."

Growling, he circles his hips and you fight back another time, but he growls against your lips, "No. You can do this. We both know that."

You try to shake your head, but he grabs your chin and gasps, "Your pussy is made to let my cock in completely."

His tip pushes into you like you've never felt anything inside you before, and your body starts to give out.

As soon as you let go, Rick pulls back, only to thrust into you again, imitating his thrusts in your mouth with his tongue, rendering you completely will-less in his arms, and you moan muffled, "Yes, yes, yes."

His whole body quivers with power and you grip even tighter into his upper arms, straining to the utmost, and gasp, "I can't take much more."

Because of the angle he has in you, each thrust is like a catapult into heaven and he reaches for your nipple saying, "Come whenever you want. Make me proud."

And with the thrust, your whole body tenses.

Your pussy contracts hard and Rick feels like you're pulling him even further into you with each wave so that he can't slide out of you.

As controlled as his thrusts have been before, they are messy now as he himself is about to come inside you while you helplessly and blindly moan his name over and over with satisfaction.

The thought of fucking you raw and cuming inside you gives him the last straw and he presses his face into the crook of your neck as he comes in several spurts inside your sore pussy.

Hoarsely he gasps against your throat, "Take it all."

And you do.

For some time you remain in this exact position, but you realize that at some point you'll have to return to the others and can't stay in your little bubble forever.

So Rick disengages from you and takes a step back from you.

He looks at your flushed face and then looks down your body more and more before his gaze gets stuck between your legs.

You know exactly what Rick is staring at: your pussy from which his cum is dripping.

It runs down your legs and you can't hide how much you like it.

As if in slow motion, Rick takes another step towards you and puts some fingers on your thigh, collecting some of your mixed fluids.

With his hand he follows the trail down to between your legs, looking you firmly in the eyes again as he slides his fingers back between your swollen pussy lips and then back inside you.

Pressed, he groans out, "This belongs inside you."

Your legs threaten to give way and you're not sure you'd survive even one more night with him without dying of heart failure.

@hail-yourselves @bean-is-reading @chanlvr2 @criminalwalkingsupernatural @sunshinevirus @toxic-ink

[bylrlve]

i believe there is happiness in our history (we always walked a very thin line)*

The Last Time ft. Gary Lightbody - this is the last time i’m asking you this: put my name at the top of your list

exile ft. Bon Iver - never learned to read your mind (never learned to read my mind), couldn’t turn things around (never turned things around), you never gave a warning sign (i gave so many signs)

mad woman - every time you call me angry i get more angry

closure - i don’t need your closure

Better Man (Taylor’s Version) - i know the bravest thing i ever did was run

Should’ve Said No - you should’ve known that word of what you did with (him) would get back to me

Tell Me Why - and i know that you see what you’re doing to me; tell me why?

White Horse - this is a small town, it’s too late for you and your white horse to come around

We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together - i remember when we broke up (the first time)

Cold As You - never been anywhere cold as you

When Love Breaks Down - the things we do to stop the truth from hurting you… the lies we tell, they only serve to fool ourselves

Back to December - how you held me in your arms that september night the first time you ever saw me cry

Labour - you make me do too much labour

Son of Nyx

All Too Well - i forget about you long enough to forget why i needed to

Who We Are - you only feel it when it’s lost

Another Love - i brought you daffodils on a pretty string, but they won’t flower like they did last spring… all my tears have been used up on another love

The Story of Us - now i’m standing alone in a crowded room and we’re not speaking

Now That We Don’t Talk (Taylor’s Version) - remind myself: the more i gave, you’d want me less

I Knew You Were Trouble - and he’s long gone when he’s next to me

driver’s license - red lights, stop signs, i still see your face… guess you didn’t mean what you wrote in that song about me…

I’ Carrion (Icarian) - i feel lighter than i have in so much time

Say Don’t Go (Taylor’s Version) - should’ve known it from the very start - we’re a shot in the darkest dark

You’re Losing Me - you say ‘i don’t understand’ and i say ‘i know you don’t’… do we throw out everything we built or keep it?

Dynasty - all i gave you is gone, crumbled like it was stone

Rolling in the Deep - finally, i can see you crystal-clear

Happier - you look happier, you do

ballad of a homeschooled girl - talked to this hot guy, swore i was his type (guess he was making out with boys, like, the whole night), everything i do is tragic, every guy i like is gay

loml - you and i going from one kiss to getting married, still alive, killing time at the cemetery, never quite buried

hoax - my twisted knife, my sleepless night, my winless fight; this has frozen my ground

Set Fire to the Rain: but there’s a side to you that i never knew… the things you’d say, they were never true… and the games you’d play, you would always win… so i set fire to the rain (watched it fall as i touched your face)

stranger- ‘cause i was half-myself without you; now i feel so complete

imgonnagetyouback - even if it’s handcuffed, i’m leaving here with you

California Dreamin’ - if i didn’t tell her, i could leave today

right where you left me: friends break up, friends get married… i could feel the mascara run, you told me that you met someone, you left me (no choice but to stay here forever)

Last Kiss - all that i know is i don’t know how to be something you miss

So Long, London - you say that you loved me but where were the clues? i died on the altar waiting for the proof

Getaway Car - i wanted to leave (her), i needed a reason

I Don’t Wanna Live Forever - i’m sitting eyes wide open and i got one thing stuck in my mind, wondering if i dodged a bullet or just lost the love of my life… i feel crazy, up all night, all night and every day, i gave you something, but you gave me nothing

Don’t You Want Me - you know, i don’t believe you when you say that you don’t need me

I Did Something Bad - i let (him) think (he) saved me; (he) never see(s) it coming, what i do next, this is how the world works: you gotta leave before you get left

Send My Love (To Your New Lover) - we’ve gotta let go of all of our ghosts (we both know we ain’t kids no more)

champagne problems- i couldn’t give a reason… how evergreen our group of friends, don’t think we’ll say that word again… one for the money, two for the show, i never was ready so i watch you go (sometimes you just don’t know the answer ‘til someone’s on their knees and asks you)… “what a shame (he’s) fucked in the head”, but you’ll find the real thing instead, she’ll patch up your tapestry that i shred

Cold as Ice - you’re willing to sacrifice our love

Bejewelled - when i meet the band, they ask ‘do you have a man?’ i can still say ‘i don’t remember’

tolerate it - what if i break free and leave us in ruins? took this dagger in me and removed it? gain the weight of you then lose it? believe me, i could do it

When We Were Young - my god, this reminds me of when we were young

Impossible - and now, when all is done, there is nothing to say

Rumour Has It - rumour has it, he’s the one i’m leaving you for

In The Air Tonight - well, i was there and i saw what you did, i saw it with my own two eyes, so you can wipe off that grin, i know where you've been, it's all been a pack of lies

my tears ricochet - and i can go anywhere i want, anywhere i want (just not home), and you can aim for my heart, go for blood

High Infidelity - storm comin’, good husband, bad omen, dragged my feet right down the aisle, at the house lonely, good money, i’d pay if you just know me, seemed like the right thing at the time… do i really have to tell you how he brought me back to life?

Fresh Out The Slammer - fresh out the slammer, i know who my first call will be to, another summer, takin’ cover, rollin’ thunder, (s)he don’t understand me

Hold Me While You Wait - i’m missing my same old us before we learned our truth too late… i wish that i was good enough

it’s time to go: that moment again, he’s insisting again that friends look at each other like that… trying to stay for the kids when keeping it how it us will only break their hearts worse… sometimes walking out is the one thing that will find you the right thing… the snaps from the same little breaks in your soul, you know when it’s time to go, i gave him my all, he gave me nothing at all (then wondered why i left)

King - we argue in the kitchen about whether to have children, the world ending, and the scale of my ambition

No Light, No Light - a revelation in the light of day, you can’t choose what fades and what stays away, and i’d do anything to make you stay… you want a revelation, you wanna get right, but that’s a conversation i just can’t have tonight

Unknown/Nth - funny how true colours shine in darkness and in secrecy… do you know i could break beneath the weight of the goodness, love, i still carry for ya? that i’d walk so far just to take the injury of finally knowing ya?… there are some people, love, who are better unknown

Daylight (Slowed + Reverb) - oh, i love it and i hate it at the same time; you and i drink the poison from the same vine

evermore (feat. Bon Iver) - oh, can we just get a pause, to be certain that we’ll be tall again… it was real enough to get me through, and i swear you were there (… and i couldn’t be sure, i had a feeling so peculiar this pain wouldn’t be for evermore)

Rolling in the Deep - there’s a fire starting in my heart… finally, i can see you crystal clear… the scars of your love remind me of us, they keep me thinking that we almost had it all… gonna wish you never had met me (the scars of your love, they leave me breathless, I can’t help feeling that we could’ve had it all)

Someone You Loved - i let my guard down, and then you pulled the rug

Someone Like You - you know how the time flies; only yesterday was the time of our lives

First Time - some part of me must have died the final time you called me baby… but some part of me came alive the final time you called me baby

All Things End - last time i felt your weight on my chest, you said ‘we didn’t get it right but, love: we did our best, and we will again’

the 1 - but we were something, don’t you think so?

Smalltown Boy - the love that you need will never be found at home

happiness - no one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you (and you know you hurt him, too)… across our great divide, there is a glorious sunrise

Abstract (Psychopomp) - the memory hurts, but does me no harm (your hand in my pocket to keep us both warm)… i remember the view, street lights in the dark blue, the moment i knew: i’d no choice but to love you

First Light: you wake, turning, shoot a silver bullet point blank range… the colour erupts, you filling my cup, the sun coming up, like i lived my whole life before the first light (…after this i’m never gonna be the same, and i am never going back, again)

* (Aka the m*leven failmarriage/ s5 acrimonious breakup playlist)

[aurorafables]

From the Grey, Chapter 2.

First of all, thank you for the likes and reblogging 😊 you just made my day when I saw any activity on my post. The story will be more than 20 chapters, so it's time for the second part. Enjoy! 😉

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Nicholas Ruffilo

Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Angst, Past character death, Suicidal thoughts

Tags: M/M, Slow burn, Childhood friends, Friends to lovers, Family drama, Band fic

Word Count: 3.7k

Cross-posted: AO3

2.

All four of us hated interviews, and no matter how much we tried to take some of the burden off Noah's shoulders, as the main lyricist and music writer, as well as the lead singer of the band, most of the time it fell to him to answer the questions. Over the years, he got better at it, and he took the hurdles more easily from interview to interview. He could dissolve in a few minutes, and if asked about the process of creation, he could talk for hours.

We were in one of our label's offices between two concerts. Noah was called from a magazine, and they were talking on video call, and I, out of the picture, stretched out in the mustard yellow faux leather armchair with my cell phone. I was only half paying attention to the conversation, but sometimes I got lost in Noah's soothing voice while I was replying to my girlfriend's messages. When the possible connection between his lyrics and his experiences came up, I looked at him a little worried. I could only half see his face from behind his laptop screen, but I waited with bated breath for an answer. Noah thought for a moment, then revealed as much as he could, but gave as vague an answer as possible. “ … I'm trying to find the limit so that everyone can relate to what they’re going through, at least for the most part. And I also think it’s kind of corny sometimes to be like too specific and… it takes out the fun of it, the whole thing loses its effect and its poetry. In addition, I don't like to express my life and personal experiences too much through the lyrics. I want them to talk about my music, not me.” I was damn proud of him, and I think it was written on my face, because he glanced over at me and gave me a thumbs up under the table where only I could see. I was afraid that he would be put in an uncomfortable situation, that things he didn't want to talk about would be taken out of him, but he solved it professionally and then steered the conversation to slightly lighter topics. I remembered the moment when he was afraid and pushed the little notebook in front of me that hid the pieces of his soul.

We were both at the tattoo parlor trying to pass the time until closing time. Noah had finished a nice bathroom cleaning that I had done when I was a newbie, and was sitting on the corner sofa, holding a notebook that I've seen him carry a lot lately. I looked up from my sketch and watched him bite his lip as he wrote something down. Then he drew out a line, brushed a strand of hair that hung in his face behind his ear, and resumed writing. It was always good to spend time together, even if we were just sitting in the same room and lost in our own things. The silence was also pleasant with him. I really realized this when Noah spent the night with someone else a few days earlier. I had a hard time falling asleep, and even when I did, I woke up an hour later. It was five in the morning when I checked my phone for the umpteenth time and put it back on the windowsill in frustration because he hadn't texted me. I mentally forbade myself to ask him if he was okay, but it cost me to wake up the next morning as a zombie and go to work. It wasn't until the next night - as I listened to Noah breathe softly on the mattress - that I realized that I was missing it. The sound of his breathing. I glanced at the clock—we still had at least twenty minutes—then closed the sketchbook, stretched out, and sat down next to Noah on the couch. The corner of his mouth turned up as he realized I was there, but otherwise he didn't bother, continued to write, only looking up again when he seemed to have reached the end. Whatever he was doing. I didn't know him as someone who writes a diary, so my first guess would have been song lyrics. But I didn't really have to grope in the dark for long, because he opened his notebook and handed it to me. I raised my eyebrows questioningly, but took it from him without a word. I detected a slight nervousness in his dark brown eyes, and he added to it when he started biting his lower lip. I knew it was a big deal that was happening and I just felt I was the first to read into his notebook. Noah pulled up one leg, rested his chin on his knee, and looked at me as I began to read between the transcribed, drawn out lines.

"I see through you I know what you are I've seen the Devil more than I've seen God And when he has you by your neck I hope you choke on every fucking word you said" "You've dug your grave and you have no one but yourself to blame I see the world in black and white Because true color always fades under the right lights"*

“Wow,” I said with a big sigh, and staring in front of me, I tried to process what the lines were saying. I guessed who it might be about, it wasn't hard to figure out who he was so angry with, because these words almost oozed hatred. Then when I got over it, I could finally appreciate it all. "Noah, that's pretty good," I looked at him, and I can only hope that he saw in my eyes how sincerely I said this. Because in my opinion there was no trace of bias, only admiration. “Why don't you show it to your band?” Noah snorted and took the notebook back. “I'm not even seventeen, Nick. Why would they listen to me? Why would they want anything to do with a kid's lyrics?” “Because it's fucking good?” I asked back in disbelief. “No,” he shook his head and threw the notebook and pen into his bag. “It wouldn't make any sense if someone else sang it.” I watched as he quickly packed up and sullenly sank into the soft couch with folded arms. Oh…he never mentioned that. “Do you want to sing, doe?” I asked him with a smile. Noah rolled his eyes at the nickname I had given him a few years ago when he suddenly grew and was all legs and arms. “Why would I want to, when it looks like we'll soon get our first record deal as guitarists?” “Because you are young, full of dreams,” I whispered to him while I leaned my head on his shoulder. “You can be anything else. Just imagine… the audience standing at your feet and singing along with you word for word the songs you wrote.” Noah didn't answer right away, I'm sure he was toying with the idea of ​​what it would be like if… "Nick, you are crazy," he finally said, laughing in confusion. “I'm just fucking tired,” I defended myself, during a yawn. “But I still mean what I said.” I pulled away from him, and Noah just shook his head in disbelief. In the four years we've known each other, I've noticed that he reacts strangely when I tell him he can do something big. It hurts to think that the reason for this could be that in his childhood he was constantly trying to destroy him to such an extent that he simply cannot deal with encouragement. It's like he expects me to laugh at him after that and tell him to forget it, he'll never be able to do that. And yes, it still hurt a little that he assumed that about me, but I understood it was unfortunately coded into his DNA. Words and their amazing power… However, there is something more here: his desire to prove himself, his determination and perseverance. “I hate so much that I can't put these in her face anymore,” he spoke after a while, almost muttering. It's like he's tired of all this a long time ago. Our eyes met and without a word I slid closer to hug him. "I know… I know," I whispered into his hair, then kissed his head. His dreams trumped everything, which makes me very proud of him. He started to build his life nicely, and before our first album was completely finished, our song Glass Houses also received the last touches and expansions on the text, just to make it all round:

"You said I'd never make it You said I'd make a mistake But now I'm right where I belong and you've got nothing to say"*

Noah founded a new band that was all his own, he started singing, and the audience is already singing along. And his mother has been rotting in a cemetery ever since, but perhaps not so deep that if thousands of people were shouting at the same time, she wouldn't hear the message intended for her.

We stepped out of the air-conditioned office into the Californian heat and the hustle and bustle of the street. I put on my sunglasses and waited for Noah to find his before we hit the road. People went to lunch, and at that time they poured out of the offices, and although we didn't fit in with the figures in suits and costumes, we still tried to remain invisible. Jolly and Folio were waiting for us at a Mexican restaurant just a few blocks from the Sumerian Records office. We stopped at a red light, and as the asphalt almost steamed from the heat, I regretted not tying my hair before we left the office. I ran my hands under my thick curls and lifted my hair a little. Noah looked at me and smiled. "There are advantages to having short hair, you know," he remarked, and I just stuck out my tongue. “Maybe some people can do whatever he want with his hairstyle, but I think my magic lies in my hair,” I answered him. “I can't believe that. When I met you, your hair was still short, and even then…” he began, but the light turned green, so we set off in the rushing crowd. “What then?” I asked him when we got through. Noah glanced at me from behind his glasses and shrugged. “Even then, you were you.” I furrowed my brows at his answer, but did not pursue the matter further. We were approaching a Starbucks, and I had already guessed that we would have a stop there. I was right, because Noah touched my arm and motioned with his head towards the entrance. I followed him, and I didn't mind that there were a few ahead of us, because at least we could cool down in there. "I'm getting the key to Steven's lake cottage next week," Noah said unexpectedly, while I squinted at the list of iced drinks on the wall behind the counter. Then I turned to him and waited for him to continue. “If you think so, of course, only if you want to… it would be great if you could join me.” Noah had pushed his sunglasses up on top of his head, I could see his eyes full of hope. I don't even remember the last time we went somewhere without the boys. "The thing is…" Noah continued while I was lost in my thoughts, "I miss you. Since I've been living in California with the others, we don't hang out much outside of the band.” He spoke my thoughts out loud in their entirety. We had another concert on Saturday this week, then two weeks of rest, which I would have liked to have spent with him, but then something came up to my mind. “I promised to come to Maya's mom's birthday party next week.” Storm clouds appeared on Noah's face. As fast as being doused with a bucket of ice water. He's always had a hard time with rejection…and besides, he's never waited to find out if it really was rejection. “Then…” “I have to be at the party organized by my girlfriend. But that doesn't mean I have to stay with them for the second week,” I told him with a small smile as I ran my palm over his forearm. “So yes, you can count on me, along with a dozen mosquitos.” Noah finally smiled genuinely, flashing his white teeth as his eyes narrowed and his small laugh lines deepened. I was instantly euphoric, but the thought that I would still have done anything to see him happy was terrifying. It was soon our turn to order, but for some reason I got really stuck studying his face. I watched him speak — I couldn't even remember what I ordered in the end — and I thought to myself what a strange coincidence that Maya is Asian. Until now, I didn't even pay much attention to this, but then our tour in Japan a few years ago popped into my mind.

Noah was lounging in a towel in front of the bathroom mirror, drying his hair. I sat on the bed in his hotel room and waited for him to finish, because we had to go to the rehearsal. I fumbled with my phone when I found a picture from the day before with both of us tagged. When we went sightseeing, some fans came up to us and we took a picture with them. Back then, it was still rare to be recognized on the street. I grinned and got up to go to the bathroom to show the picture to Noah as he had been in a weird mood all day and I expected it to cheer him up a bit. I raised my cell phone in front of his face. Noah stopped brushing his hair and put the hairbrush on the counter, then took the phone from me. He looked at the photo with critical eyes, then looked into the mirror, where our eyes met. He returned the mobile and said nothing. He turned on the hotel's hair dryer and began the operation with complete resignation, and I stood beside him, confused. “Is something wrong?” I asked in the loud noise. “What did you say?” he asked back after turning off the hair dryer. I sighed and leaned against the counter. "I thought you'd like it here," I admitted. ”It's a big adventure that we got this far with the band, and besides, hey, we're in Japan!” I spread my arms in confusion. Noah looked at me silently, his eyes shining darkly, then finally just shook his head. “Should I get more excited because we are in the birthplace of Manga and Anime?” he asked cynically. I wanted so badly to understand… I wanted to know what was going through his mind. I wasn't satisfied with that answer. "Your roots lead back here," I said quietly. Noah snorted and ran the brush over his hair again. “I have no roots. I'm just going with the flow.” “Do you mean you hate Japan?” “Why should I love it? Nothing binds me here except my mother's devil plan to not rest until she gives birth to a half-breed child.” I've heard this story before, and since then I haven't been able to understand what kind of person is, who is able to wade through all emotions and reason for the sake of a fixation. “This place… it just confirms to me that I don't fit in completely here either.” I remembered the bullying he received at school for being different from the others, which must have contributed to his dropping out of education at the age of fifteen. The blue bruise on his cheekbone and how he wouldn't even admit to me that one of his idiot classmates had laid a hand on him. Things got a little better when he started hanging out with us, the graduates who were three years older, but after graduation I couldn't protect him anymore. Freak, bastard, mix, little girl because of his long hair, fag… and these are just the adjectives he told me, who knows what words were thrown at his head. I have already received some of these, but it hurt much more to know that Noah had to face this every day. I looked up at him, because he was already half a head taller than me, and I only spoke when he was finally paying attention to me. “I don't know how much my opinion matters, but I think your mother's only good decision is that you exist.” I turned away and left him alone in the bath. Let his rage some more if he felt he needed to, but first I wanted to let him know how important he was to me. The next day, when we were in Nara, the city of deers, Noah finally smiled after a week. Indeed, his whole face brightened and he fed the animals as happily as a small child. As he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip and tried to hold back a burst of laughter as he idly watched me being torn apart by some naughty deers for a few morsels of food, I realized that digging into things the day before had been worth it.

Noah was a step ahead of me, checking on his phone if we were going in the right direction, and I was behind him sipping my shake, which turned out to be chocolate flavored after the first taste. My gaze drifted to his broad shoulders, then to his tattooed biceps, which tensed slightly as he gestured with his iced coffee towards a street where we had to turn. I would have bet that none of his old classmates would have dared to bully him again. The others were already sitting at the table when we arrived. Jolly noted that he was already starting to starve, which didn't seem like much of a problem since the appetizer was already on the table. Noah immediately threw himself on some roasted, spicy peppers while I browsed the drink menu. “How was the interview?” asked Folio, his cold beer in hand. I glanced up at them from behind the little notebook. “The usual," Noah shrugged, then licked his finger. “Don't worry, it wasn't mentioned that you fell on your ass on the way down the stairs at the last concert,” he added with an evil grin, for which our drummer punched him on the shoulder in return. We all started laughing. I remembered walking off the stage two days ago, exhausted, Folio coming after me, and then after a big thump - which I could hear clearly even through the loud shouting of the audience - I looked back and thought he was gone, but then I saw him sitting on the metal steps. Fortunately, he was not harmed. “I thought I would rest a bit,” Folio defended himself. “Some people hold only one microphone the whole time, and I am the one who trains hard on stage for an hour and a half. You should try it sometime, Noah.” “I'm still perfect the way I’m,” Noah looked at me and we smiled at each other. “You don't want to hear my drumming skill,” he added horrified. "Personally, I don't want to hear Folio sing," I interjected, and the others laughed and nodded in agreement. “Great, then everything will remain as it was,” concluded Jolly. The waiter came out and took our order. Noah asked for half the menu because he wanted to try everything, so I only ordered a burrito. I felt that I would have leftovers from his order.

“And what are your plans for the break?” Folio asked. "I'm meeting Maya," I answered. “I am going home to the family in Sweden,” said Jolly. “I have to record some vocals, then I will rest,” Noah answered. “With Karin?” Folio asked back. The mood at the table suddenly became frosty. Noah snorted but didn't say anything, just poked at the napkin. I felt that somehow I had to save him from this unpleasant situation. "That wouldn't be about rest," I said, the first thing that came to mind. It seemed like a good idea to play it off with a joke, but when Noah turned his head toward me, he looked at me like he couldn't believe I just said that. I already regretted speaking. "I'll be right back, guys," Noah said, still staring at me like I'd grown a second head. He headed for the bathrooms and I was so damn tempted to follow him and find out what was wrong, but I couldn't. I didn't want to run after him in front of our friends like I was his puppy, so I sighed and put my hands on my knees as if I could hold my legs back from the walk. "It would be good to neglect this Karin subject, Folio," said Jolly, then turned to me. “Don't feel bad about it. We didn't know we couldn't even joke with him.” I actually felt bad because I didn't know… I had no idea what was going on between Noah and the girl, so I didn't even think about hurting my best friend. Noah acted like I didn't exist that day. He quickly finished his lunch and said he had work to do and had to go. I stayed there with the boys and a pile of food. The tension eased a bit for our weekend concert, but it was still fucked up.

Suddenly, I found myself on the plane home, still not sure what happened at the restaurant. I've regretted a thousand times that I didn't go and find out what was wrong. I could only hope that we would be able to discuss it next week, and that was only one of the reasons why I couldn't wait to fly back to him in California.

*Bad Omens - Glass Houses

[onyxheartbeat]

You know, when I listen to other people’s breakup stories and watch reality shows about choosing a partner and seeing how people deal with rejection and not getting closure, I see that a lot of people, despite there being a lack of closure, at least the person wasn’t cruel with their last interaction. And if they were, they at least regretted it and apologized or attempted to give some comfort to the other person later down the line.

I’m not moving on or getting any better because I’m still reeling about how our last call was so ugly because he said such an untruth about me being selfish, and then talking to me with such irritation in his voice and then hanging up on me and leaving it to me to call back, like he would’ve been fine never talking to me again.

I know none of that seems out of the ordinary for a usual argument between two people, but if you’d seen how we interacted for those many months together, and years for that matter, it would floor you. I really couldn’t have been less selfish toward him.

When you know someone is moving away, that’s its own thing. You prepare yourself emotionally for that. You don’t expect the person to completely lose all consideration toward you, especially when you’ve consistently shown them you’d be there for them no matter what. Seeing the person you’ve never yelled at or been cruel to in your time together just tell you you’re selfish is impossible to wrap your head around.

He was so defensive because I was telling him he’s not responding like he used to, and using his illness to act like I don’t understand. I spent all my time listening to and understanding this person has been sick and is dealing with illness because I was there almost every day for seven months, spending time listening and talking to them about it. Flash forward to your last call, being screamed over when you try to talk, hearing them yell that you don’t understand that they’re dying, and that you’re selfish for wanting them to answer messages or read a journal entry you want to send them. It makes you realize they didn’t fully understand your love for them. It leaves you dead inside when someone can so easily disregard you and fall out of love when the time you spent together was so deeply intimate and bonding.

You should never hold things over someone’s head, and love is unconditional, but when I say that I was always there, giving this person grace and staying calm when they were having breakdowns and acting erratically due to stress, coming over any time they asked because I truly wanted to be there, forgiving their transgressions, it’s important in the context of how a relationship ends when they behave as if that counts for nothing with them; yelling at you, projecting their own emotions onto you, hanging up on you; it makes you completely disillusioned and the cognitive dissonance is insane. I did things for someone because I wanted to do things selflessly for this person yet it still got thrown in my face for wanting the bare minimum contact and respect after they moved.

We ended that phone call cordially because I tried to make the feeling lighter by the end of it (again, MY effort) but as a few days passed, it wasn’t sitting right with me so I wrote to him about it and that wasn’t received well.

To tie this into my first paragraph, again, I feel how someone reacts to you addressing how poor their behavior was at the end of a relationship can mean a lot to your physical and emotional well-being down the line. They always have a choice to not say something untrue, to not scream, to not be cruel.

[themightyaliendwarf]

First thoughts on the Interview with a Vampire series

It's going to be a long one, so get ready.

From the moment I heard about the details of this project, I was sceptical. After all, to change Louis from a late XVIII century plantation owner to a black man and the owner of brothel houses living in the early XIX century is quite a jump. However, we've seen bigger changes being done and sometimes not only would they not make the story worse, but even go as far as make it better (I find Forrest Gump to be a perfect example). So, how did it go here?

Well... I'm confused.

Which isn't a bad thing in itself! I'd say I enjoyed this first episode, but it certainly felt more like fanfic rather than an adaptation.

If you have read the book you know it has one significant feature: it's melancholic. Rice wrote it after she lost her daughter and each page is filled with incredible grief that is so characteristic of Louis's story. On the other hand, the second book - Vampire Lestat - while still similar in style, it's definitely a lot lighter. I strongly believe showrunners decided to combine those two books and that's why it seems the style is a bit confused at times. After all, how much grief can you put in and still feel genuine if you want your flamboyant Lestat to be Lestat, do Lestat things and steal the show?

Because I don't think you can quite do it. Even the movie from 1994, despite being a very good adaptation, is significantly less painful than the book.

And they actually have Claudia being played by an incredible child actress!

But let's talk about the series. I think they wanted this show to be connected to the book and have Lestat. I doubt Louis as Louis was their priority. Yes, of course, his family story is actually pretty similar to the book... but obviously they decided to add racism to his long list of things he can whine about (for the record, yes, I do think book Louis is rather whiny). While I do think it provides something new to the story (I also think Jacob Anderson is doing a very good job and is giving us something different from what Brad Pitt did), I don't think it improves the story. I love the 1910' aesthetic and jazz, but is it something I want from Interview with a Vampire? Not really. However, if you are able to fully separate it from the novel and the 1994 book and treat it as its own thing, I think you will enjoy it a lot.

Ok, but I can't finish this post without talking about Lestat. I told my friend that this series can be shit, but if Lestat is done well, it's at least a 7/10. And you know what?

Of course, Lestat is amazing.

Again, Sam Reid is giving us something different from Tom Cruise (this Lestat actually speaks French!). I like how they are taking elements from Vampire Lestat - tho, for now mostly in the form of Lestat talking about his family - and that this fabulous bloodsucker is as much of a dandy and asshole as I want him to be.

I mean, the scene of Louis' brother's funeral when Lestat straight up tells him "Nice coffin. Where did you buy it?" is kinda hilarious.

Reid has a very strong screen presence and he absolutely steals every shot. Not gonna lie, I want this show to go for another season purely to see him as a 1980's rockstar Lestat.

I think most people know how important the 1994 movie was for the LGBT+ community. I mean, clearly, gay (or bi) vampires are being played by 3 known actors? That's not something you see every day in the 90s'. A clear difference between the movie and this series is that they are a lot hornier. I don't think we've seen an on-screen kiss in 1994 (I don't think you even have them in the book). Louis doesn't want to give the reader juicy details - you need to wait for Vampire Lestat to read how everybody was Lestat's boyfriend.

This series is not subtle at all with the romantic tension.

So, would I recommend it? The first episode was pretty good. I expect to be disappointed by Claudia's story, tho. Overall, if you can easily separate this series from the original novel, I think you will enjoy it.

[lezzy-bordon]

.

Do you remember driving that night? You made me sit in the car and watch you. When I ask you said you weren’t crying as tears leaked down your face. You put on that Dead Cab album. The one we listened to in the drive home after our first kiss. We were just kids.

You made me sit there in the front seat on the way to the dealer’s house that you made me be the point of contact for (to be fair to you, I like having you rely on me for something you needed so badly).

You wouldn’t talk to me. Just made me listen to our teenage love while you wept. You pulled out your heart and ask me why I would hurt you like that.

My first birthday of our relationship you got me a new journal. I wrote all the time, but always only in my physical journal. You wrote the lyrics to my favorite death cab for cutie album in the first page. Marching bands of manhattan. The opening track on plans.

I can smell the air of the earliest morning hours high in the mountains, where it still gets cold even in august. Everything felt new and fresh. I remember a lighter heart in my chest. I remember your warm mouth and having fun and thinking this must mean we were dating - even though we never really talked about it.

You gave me a new journal with those lyrics in it. You said I was going to fill up that old journal soon enough at this rate. You knew I only liked unlined journals and that I’ve always found having a piece of someone’s handwriting to be a special type of intimacy.

“Your love is gonna drown”

I think that boy died the same day Eric died. But maybe that’s an over simplification for the sake of narrative. You dropped out of school and disaffected and hit me a year before he shot himself. Maybe it was when I let you fuck me.

You were nice to me at one point. You were a sweet boy. You cared about me, you supported my voice and creativity. You believed in me. We worked hard and created together. You didn’t treat me like something easily breakable, which felt like recognizing my hard earned strength. You were my friend.

I miss that boy so much. I was in love with him.

I wanted him there, in that car with me. That whole year.

I wanted my friend. I knew coming out was going to hurt you, but I wanted you to still love me. I still wanted 7 years of friendship and cocreation to mean something to you. I wanted to still matter even after I took my body away for good. But it didn’t. You spoke to me twice after that day. But I guess after you acted like that, what was left to say?

I psyched myself up to come out, reading other late in life lesbian stories. Everyone who talked about her husband, her best friend, standing beside her despite the hurt made my heart ache. I wanted that from you so badly. But I knew you never would. And you never disappointed when it came to failing me.

You’re crying so hard, even if you deny it. Can you see the road? We’re going 75 on the highway. You could run off and decide to kill us both on a whim. You said you hate yourself enough to do it, and you seem to hate me right now too. Will you decide to control the narrative and keep us together in the end, no matter what I say? You were always good at deciding, no matter what I tried to say.

I have to go up to the weed dealers door and smile at the neighbors while we do our covid-conscious drop.

Then I get back in the car and hope when we get home you’ll get high enough to pass out and forget to go in to your regular coercive guilt trip where you say I must not love you because I’m not fucking you. That you would believe I love you if I just let you fuck me. Maybe you’ll even fall asleep before I feel guilty enough to open my body and relent.

Your love is gonna drown.

[theswitchsteinenigma]

“But what did I mean by that”

“What does it mean to know me”

It’s hard to articulate how I feel so it makes it even harder for people to get to know me, sometimes I feel like I don’t really even know myself or know how to let someone know me.

“Me” as in Switch feels like on a fraction of a million things I am. Like it’s what I’m comfortable introducing myself as, it’s who I identify with the most. But other then being a He/They named Switch and a handfull of other things that piss a lot of people off well I’m an artist I love coordination weather it’s jewelry oulfits or the keychains hanging off my cup or my purse. I’m very particular on too many things. I let that hold me back a lot. Covid made my anxiety and agoraphobia debilitating but I go out as much as I can because isolation in a 12x12 cube will make anyone feel like a rat in a cage. Doesn’t mean I have any less of an awfully hard time psyching myself out and actually doing it.

It took me 22 years to reach out to my biological father and he died before I actually got to talk to him. Before he got to know me in my adult life. I still to this day cry about him not knowing me but I’m not really sure who in all I’d be able to articulate and introduce to him.

But the time for that has passed now. I met my two brothers sitting front row at his funeral. I’m not sure what was more surreal those two boys being perfect and sober or the fact that the only thing I inherited from this man were the items found in his pockets when his body was found.

Those items included:

1 red ink pen (pictured above)

1 pair of rainbow kiss eyelash tweezers

1 mostly used mint and purple elf bar

A very twisted up ballys casino card

A very odd bracelet that I’d like to wear but genuinely I’m afraid to.

A lighter

And 26 cents.

I gladly accepted and kept all of these items to this day because well theirs really not much else I can get from him. So many of the pictures in his slideshow were ones taken by or with my mom but she was always cropped out, it’s really funny but I know at least Danny bacon thought the same thing I did when one or two of them came across.

His nickname was cheese, his best friend is bacon their bacon and cheese I still to this day don’t know the story behind that but damn i really fucking would’ve loved hearing that story from him.

I wish I said something at his funeral I even wrote something up and reread it maybe a million times but I just couldn’t do it. And now no one will ever know how I feel, well except yall. It’s whatever.

I feel strange constantly and my identity use to be a fight either for or against my last name and everything that’s come before me. I can’t even really tell you where I’ve settled the debate because honestly I still don’t know how I feel or what I want or what in the fucking world I would’ve said to him if I ever got the chance to speak to him.

My adopted father has made me feel better in any way he’s ever been able to and he’s adamant about the fact he doesn’t want me to move out and if it was his decision I’d be here forever. I love and adore him for everythings he’s done and will do and I look forward to growing more with him then apart from him. Sometimes I feel like this sadness and emptiness I hold is unnecessary or even a little disrespectful but I know he gets it.

When I first found out I went downstairs to tell him and he told me about a time he was at my Mømmōm’s house and him and cheese were talking and he essentially told him thank you for being there for me and just like what the fuck am I suppose to do with this information I’m dumbfounded but I get it. Alex is great and was able to do everything he couldn’t. So why am I still sad?

Well for starters I think I’m autistic and just full incapable of processing any sort of feelings or grief in any sort of proper way even at 22. But that’s besides the point, I’m sad for a million reasons and I regret so much and I don’t even know what I mean by I wish he got to know me because I’m not really sure who I wanted and needed him to know to truly feel content in my life.

TLDR: dude I got mad identity and daddy issues. And probably autism. And a substance abuse problem, and a dead biological father who oded and I have to move out of my adopted dad’s house but I’m full of fear and grief still and don’t wanna be away. Nor do I know who I wanna be or who I want my dad to know nor who I wanted cheese (el bio father) to know! And for some reason that’s the most complex grief I’ve ever owned in my soul summed up way too easily.

With love and lots of tears

✨💕Switch💕✨

[daegudrama]

Hi!

I promised on Discord (3Tan) to read everything didn’t I? So, here’s some reviews/thoughts/love for the first things I read:

Lessons in Love Making; This was the first story of yours I read, and I liked it very very much. First of all: Jk is such a sweetheart, trying to learn and express his love. And talking and asking for tips. Some people should do that more. I sincerely like that he got some good lessons. Also; you are so right in writing all of them saying talk to your partner. And, I get Jk in another level. When he said: “You feel so much better than Momo,” I was like- yes, he needs a real connection with his partner. I’m just like the Jk you wrote here, I can talk about intimacy like a boss, a little to open and too much sometimes, but when it comes to doing it: I need to actually have that connection. Writing a good trio is no easy feat and I liked your take on it. This line: “Tolkien, suck a little lighter. There’s only so much a person can take.” and the fact that he actually listened, I love that. Don’t get me started on Namjoon and the fact that I can read it as if I’m the one getting those hunks together. Yeah, good story :)! You planning on writing another part of this?

Moon Over Flower; I don’t really like stories about Seakjin most of the time, because he gets portrayed differently from how I see him. But, I liked your take on him. I have so much respect for making a story about someone who still has her V-card after their puberty, but who is still intimate with themselves! I really like people with their own view. I never thought I would like Noona in a sexual story, but it suited the story so well. When Seokjin was like: “If this is uncomfortable for you I’ll give you a full refund. I don’t normally do that but you are the only person that can make my coffee correctly and I really like the conversations we have.” I swooned I tell you. I can totally see him actually doing something like that <3. The intercourse itself was so good to read, it’s spicy and you write it really well. Also: the way the characters flow is really nice.

I’m sorry I haven’t been reading all of them just yet. I have truly been one socials (Tumblr/Discord/Facebook/Instagram) less so I could focus on myself. BUT I did not forget and the rest will follow. I send you all the love and good vibes, because your writing rocks! Keep it up, I’ll keep reading <3

PS: I saw a Pokémon crossover. YES! But I’m going to do that one last. You’ll get another message with some more love. 

Have a nice evening (or day, night, morning, whichever fits <3)

omg hi!! thank you so much for reading my fics 🥹 i’m glad you liked them! no rush on reading anything i’m just so happy to hear that anyone is reading them at all 💜💜

with both of these fics i’ve thought about continuing them eventually. right now i’m more focused on other things but i will get back to them some day. particularly with moon over flower i think there’s a lot i could do there

i was really apprehensive about using honorifics bc typically i don’t like to at all. it just fit this situation in my mind. i rarely see seokjin being written as younger than someone so i really wanted to do that.

[allalliecreate]

I mentioned in my first post that I might post a poem I wrote because I was reminded of it by a writing prompt, but I can't find my hard copies. I must have gotten rid of them during the last time I decluttered. It's probably not even on our old dead computer because I have a vague memory of writing it at school, but it doesn't matter.

The story of its creation is what I cared more about because I found it very funny. Around 10 years ago, I was in a creative writing class in high school, and my teacher's prompt for the day was a poem based on a famous painting. I was very tired that day, and it was early in the day, so I was having a hard time remembering a painting that I could actually name well enough to look up. The only one I could think of was The Scream. So I wrote a kinda dark poem about the loneliness creeping up inside you and building more and more pressure until the only thing you can do is scream. I think I even referenced the people in the background of the painting as well, maybe talked about them ignoring you or something, I don't know. I've got a bad memory.

Anyway, every few weeks in this class, we had to pick one of our poems/stories and share them with the class (figuratively and literally, we had to print copies for the class to annotate with critiques that we would get back at the end). I decided this poem was the best I had so I got the required copies and didn't give a thought to how dark and depressing it might appear to someone. I can't remember the discussion, probably too nervous at the prospect of being the focus of the discussion, but I vaguely remember people liking it. I still thought everything was fine until I got back all of the copies. Over half of them had something along the lines of "you can always talk to us if you need to".

I told this story to my dad and he told me that when he was in creative writing his teacher really like his stuff, except it was all really dark and depressing. Its weird because I remember that day writing it and while I am a little depressed and very anxious usually, that day, while not outright happy, I was in a lighter mood than usual even while tired. And I accidently wrote the darkest thing I have ever written and the darkest thing that was shared in the class. I don't even know why, but it is so funny to me.

[karla-the-elemental-dreamer]

KH OC Short Story: "I'll Never Do It"

I wanted to share this story I wrote last night. It's an imagination of if I featured in the KH Novel. Unfortunately, short stories are not my forte, and as my mum said, I do tend to struggle with conveying the emotions of characters. My writing is more 'recap' like; likely due to the millions of dreams I've recapped in my life.

I may try and re-write this story to practice conveying emotion, but it won't be a 'short' story lol.

The timeline of this story is based on what has happened in my waking life; my dreams; and energy communications that Riku and Terra have given me to continue our bond, including how they reference their cannon timeline.

Enjoy reading :3

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

To really think I would be a keyblade wielder at the start of it all. I thought there were certain rules that you just HAD to follow, at least by the precedent of certain keyblade masters. I always insisted to myself, and consequently to those around me, that this wasn’t for me.

I never saw Namine fighting within the group, but then I thought she was powerful enough in her own right; a witch with power over people’s memories.

I never followed trends, but what if I could be a trendsetter?

My favourite colour is blue. The first keyblade wielder I formed a connection with, to link to their world, was Riku. And guess what; Riku is a keyblade master… After everything I’ve said. Maybe I’m to blame, as I remained with my assumptions for quite a while, but I saw Riku as one angry man. No matter the amount of letters I wrote in an attempt to explain myself, he always seemed to complain that I was too needy for him.

And then his mentor came, or who was at least supposed to be his mentor if he wasn’t stuck in limbo for ten years. Terra seemed to watch me carefully.

I never heard the boys speaking seriously to each other, but then what were Riku and Terra conversing about behind the scenes?

This led Terra to start subtly taking over the roles that I had set for Riku, and that perhaps Riku was trying to palm me off to him. But then I thought to myself, “Is Terra going to get me past the tax exam?”. It seems I have a one-track mind. It had to be Riku.

Now in hindsight I think, was it right to push Terra away? To see a grown man cry from something I’d done, when it was never my intention to make him feel that way. And in turn, Riku grew more cross.

My intentions were being misconstrued, and so were theirs.

It seemed near impossible to convey my truth to Kingdom Hearts. But then impossible is made up of I’m possible, right?

After my dad’s best friend had passed away, I saw a different side to Riku. He seemed to take a step back and just observe the emotions of my family during a seemingly tumultuous time. One night, in my room, I heard Riku whispering a phrase from behind the open door.

“Because somebody needs me”.

I don’t know who or what he was talking to, but this seemed like Riku’s promise to finally try and help me rather than hiding.

It was still rigid for a while, but each day got lighter and brighter as Riku tried to understand me further, and we connected more. We taught each other the art of compromise in subtle ways. Riku did his best to reserve initial judgements of me and learn more about my special needs, and I had begun to think that not all keyblade masters were grumpy, old-fashioned, and I guess linear.

Riku embraced being my first connection to Kingdom Hearts and admitted that he felt lucky. And then he broke the most significant message by far.

He thought of me as his first de-facto student.

He told me I could take all the time I needed and that he would never apply pressure for me to use a keyblade. My life lessons would show me the way and would determine when I’d be ready.

With all the guardians of light flocking to watch me in Riku’s time, it would be easy to get to know the others.

Times seemed to be getting harder and harder for my family and the world in general. I decided that for the first time, I’d let two connections at once take the driver’s seat in watching over me.

With many options to choose from, making the choice seemed harder than I thought. No matter how seemingly fairly and equally I assessed each guardian, I was always being drawn to Terra. I couldn’t not choose him after how I had hurt him in Riku’s early days. And then there were also many more deciding factors. In-fact too many to list… All roads lead to Terra.

But now that I had given Terra the role he seemingly wanted in the first place, I couldn’t understand why he looked like he now didn’t want the role. Or was this simply the insecurities of his past setting in? The whisperings of his enemies that he wasn’t good enough.

Just like with Riku, there was a day where Terra suddenly changed. Like something had finally pushed him into his role.

In this world, Riku and Terra could be together and share many smiles and laughs.

Weeks later, I ended up summoning a keyblade in my hand, but it wasn’t my own. It was Riku’s Braveheart, and then I subsequently summoned Terra’s Ends of the Earth keyblade. The boys were impressed with each one taking turns to talk when I had summoned their keyblade. However, a thought worth noting is that I had summoned Terra’s ending keyblade, rather than his starting one.

Was this a foresight to the special bond I’d create with Terra?

It seems the boys knew me better than I did, or so I thought. There was always this pull towards Terra. Sadness and insecurity from him when I resisted, but a new and unrecognisable person when I responded to Terra, and we exchanged our needs and comforting words and gestures to meet them.

Whenever I’m in trouble, my Kingdom Hearts dream guides are always there to help, whether it’s in person or lending me their keyblades.

And I’m starting to have an affinity for the colour purple.

INFJs are quiet and mysterious, but powerful people after all.

[zuluc]

summary: how the genshin boys give hugs

characters: childe, diluc, kaeya, razor, venti, xiao, xingqiu, zhongli

style & genre: bulleted & written; fluff

warnings: none

notes: a self-indulgent fic for my birthday yay, i hope you guys enjoy this I just really want a hug but it’s hard to see friends right now 🤧🤧

Childe

sometimes a side hug or quick embrace; sometimes not because there are days he never wants to let you go

his outward persona is lost because he trusts you

once his arms come around you, you feel like the life is being squeezed out of you, in a good way of course

there are still traces of his past he has yet to share but he wants you to know how much you mean to him

Paimon had stayed behind to finish that chop suey Su Er'niang offered you both. You finished your share, giving some to your companion, and you left to sight-see around Liyue. 

It’s different from Mondstadt and there were quite a bit of things to get done here for your journey. Your feet take you to the stairs leading up to the Wanwen Bookstore and you hope no one has bought out the book you wanted to finish.

Before you could take a step upwards, someone grabs your wrist and pulls you into a small alley. You hand comes up to summon your sword but then your vision is obscured by a head of copper hair. You gasp when his arms tighten around your torso while he heaves a sigh beside your ear. He lets go after a few seconds and you can see the smile on his face.

“Just a recharge,” Childe winks and turns around to get back to what he was doing.

Diluc

he gives the type of hugs that hold so much emotion that he hides from the public

his body runs warm and appreciates when you snuggle further into him when he has you

his hugs are never quick and he likes to take his time, his hold tight enough to make you feel safe but loose enough to allow you to leave if you so wish

rarely initiates them but will take full control when you’re in private

You could tell when the work he had was becoming too much for the night. The annoyance tainted his handsome features and you just wanted to take it all away. Diluc worked hard, everyone knew that, but he was only human. 

You give him the letter Jean wrote out and proceed towards the door to get back to your own duties. Your name rolls off his lips and when you turn around to look at him he’s gesturing for you to get closer. When you’re mere inches from his desk he stands up and places one hand on your back and the other on the back of your head, burying his face into your neck.

The temperature outside was chilly and his naturally warm body contrasts to how you felt prior. You can feel him frown against you when he feels how cold your skin is.

“Will you be coming back tonight?”

Kaeya

he gives you many hugs, anywhere and at anytime

there isn’t a day where you never receive one and if that every happens, the next day will include even more

will almost always lift you off your feet and/or catch you off guard; he likes to keep you on your toes

even when you’re just standing around waiting for another mission or watching the sun set he’ll hold you close against his side

He’s late. Again. 

You finished off the last of the slimes around Starfell Lake with little to no damage to yourself, luckily, but someone was supposed to assist you to get the job done faster. You look around for any more enemies before kneeling down and dipping your hand into the water. It was cool against your skin, relaxing you after the day’s work. But it might have been just a bit too peaceful.

A force pushes you forward and you close your eyes to brace for the inevitable impact into the water. You wait a few seconds before realizing that you are still very much dry, but there’s something blocking you from lifting your arms. Kaeya chuckles behind you as you lightly hit his arm, hugging you tight.

“I got you,” he says with a smile.

Razor

he’s an awkward hugger, mostly because he doesn’t know how these things work as well as that he doesn’t want to hurt you

he doesn’t know where to put his hands and they usually end up against his sides before he realizes that he makes you think he doesn’t like them

when he gets more comfortable, his hugs are gentle and soft

he grew up with the wolves and these types of things just didn’t happen, but you make his heart soar

He’s taking a casual walk in Wolvendom to reflect on what Lupus Boreas had told him only days ago. He wasn’t a wolf, he was human, but he couldn’t accept it so quickly. His mind wanders and he doesn’t hear the steps, or rather running, behind him. It’s only until you jump on his back that he realizes.

You knew that he was thinking about what happened and you wanted to return as fast as you could to check on him. You slide off his back and he gives you a forced grin. Razor avoids your gaze but you place your hands on his shoulders to square them towards you.

He appreciates your presence and he wants nothing more than comfort, hands twitching at his sides. You’re aware of his little signals and smile when you hug him tightly. He closes his eyes and breaths in your calming scent while hugging you back with care.

“Thank you.”

Venti

there’s a sense of happiness once he hugs you because it just makes you feel lighter and free

there seems to always be a slight breeze about him and you can feel it brush your face when you rest your head on his shoulder

he comes and goes but never forgets to hug you before and after he returns to see you

his hold can range from very loose to holding on just a bit tighter

Venti left a month ago and you knew that’s just how his way of life was. He was never one to stay place for too long, much like the wind you would say. You yourself were someone who likes to travel around, but everything always brought you back to Mondstadt. 

You stand overlooking the city at “your usual place,” as he liked to call it, for some peace of mind. You sit on the edge of the statue’s outstretched hands and lean back on your hands to take in the view. A soft breeze passes by you and your ears pick up a quiet sound behind you. You smile and stand up, immediately wrapping your arms around him. 

His own naturally fall in place behind your back and a light laugh escapes his lips. It was nice to see you again, as always.

“Missed me?”

Xiao

he used to be so stiff when he first started hugging you as he never had physical contact with anyone

being you, he warms up and learns how to properly hug someone

will have a hand behind your head because he wants to make sure that every part you of is against him

he’s very protective of you in general and it gives him a peace of mind knowing he can keep an eye on you in this way

You’re sleeping, sitting in his lap with your head resting against his chest as he sits on the balcony of Wangshu Inn. You came to him only a few moments ago and it was clear that you took the time to clear out nearby hilichurl camps due to the small scratches and bruises you had on you.

Xiao narrows his eyes at more of the culprits across the water on the little islands, making a note to do something with them later. You mumble in your sleep and he looks down to see your brows furrowed. He cups your face gently and smooths his thumb over your cheek which causes your face to return to it’s peaceful state and you move closer to him. 

It was surprising that he fell for someone. You made your way into his life so unexpectedly and now he just wanted to take care of you. And he wouldn’t change a thing.

“Rest well.”

Xingqiu

very proper hugs because they are reciprocated in with the same energy, or even more, than the ones you may give him

he has no problem in giving you hugs away from prying eyes

he would usually whisk you away onto adventures with him with a promise of them

will get flustered when you hug him while saying just how much you appreciate him

You’re amused at the way he presents himself to others and talks to them as expected of him. Xingqiu was known to be mild- and well-mannered as his mischievous side was hidden from those not so close to him.

You both manage to escape the party, standing beside each other as you look up into the night sky. He feels less restricted with you and he takes this opportunity to lace his fingers through yours. You give him a fond smile and return to staring at the stars.

An idea pops into your head and you let go of his hand, him giving you a questioning look before he is brought into a hug. Xingqiu blushes at the suddenness of your actions but returns it nonetheless. His eyes keep diverting to the house so you have to reassure him that no one can see the both of you. 

“Let’s get out of here.”

Zhongli

he enjoys hugging, contrary to what most might think

he likes the intimate feeling and being close to someone he loves in such a sweet way that can be done anywhere

he will never deny you of the affection and if you initiate it he will go through with it no matter what

he’s always looking at you paired with a soft smile on his face whenever he has you in his arms

Zhongli’s voice pierces the quiet as you both take a stroll outside of Liyue. He’s telling you of its history and old traditions that have disappeared throughout the years, but you’re becoming tired due to the sound of his voice.

When you’re out of sight from the guards at the front gates you give a slight tug to the end of his coat sleeve. He stops in the middle of his story and sees that your eyes are growing weary. You keep your hold on his sleeve until you pull yourself to rest your head on his chest, closing your eyes and content with the sound of the night as you’re against him. 

He holds you close, making sure that you’re not actually asleep as it would make for a very interesting walk back. You tell him that you’re just resting your eyes for a few moments and that he can keep talking. That you love the sound of his voice. Zhongli places a kiss to your forehead as he continues, adoration for you clear in his eyes.

“Now, where was I...”

[desertsquiet]

Album of the Year

1969

Runners up (7-2):

Winner: Tommy (The Who)

First let me just say: what a great year for album covers as well! These are all almost as gorgeous as the albums themselves. Five Leaves Left is yet another incredible debut album by yet another artist who deserved to get so much more recognition *while* he was still alive. I can’t get over the fact that the first line on his first song, “Time has told me, you’re a rare, rare find/A troubled cure for a trouble mind”, seems to perfectly define all his music. Then we have a sophomore solo release by the hero of the moment, Neil what-an-absolute-legend Young (yes that’s actually his middle name), staying particularly true to his name here. As an album, it’s probably the one I have more affection for as it was the perfect soundtrack for so many roadtrips growing up. Plus I’ve recently found out he wrote Cinnamon Girl, Down By The River, and Cowgirl in the Sand ON THE SAME DAY. That is beyond insane. What can I say about Abbey Road? I love every minute of it. The album that truly made me fall in love with The Beatles and, slowly but surely, with Paul McCartney. Track by track it’s just their strongest in my mind, no faults at all. Plus the production is *so* immaculate it gives it such a cohesive sound and feeling despite the songwriting being as varied as it gets. The cherry on top is of course the Abbey Road medley, undoubtey Paul’s melodic magnus opus (and that is saying something) and just one of the greatest pieces of music you can hope to hear. Let It Bleed, on the other hand, was a recent revelation for me. I basically only knew Gimme Shelter and You Can’t Always Get What You Want going into it and even though they’re the opener and closer they really don’t prepare you for what the album is going to sound like. This is the Stones country-rock album. You can tell Keith had a new bff when even a Robert Johnson song sounds more country than blues for some reason! So many underrated gems on here, like the title track, You Got the Silver and Country Honk. I have talked at lenght about Townes Van Zandt’s self titled on here but I never really get tired of saying how much I love it so here we go: the second album he recorded in 1969 and they are both unbelievable. Here, unlike on Our Mother the Mountain, the heavy themes always present in his music are a lot more balanced by lighter, brighter and tasteful arrangements (particularly adore the gentle use of the harmonica in every single song). Having said that, the more stripped down production also allows the lyrics and sorrowful delivery of Waiting Around to Die, the first song he ever wrote, to finally hit the listener with their whole stark, bleak devastating effect. Perhaps his greatest talent. If Gram Parsons had my attention when I listened to Sweetheart of the Rodeo, by the time I heard The Gilded Palace of Sin (not that long after) he had my undying love and admiration. I have no words to describe how incredible it is. It’s the most perfect, balanced fusion between country and rock ever created but not at all in a “washed up” way. Both influences are equally strong and equally clear and get to shine so brightly through some truly inspired songwriting. The feel of this album is apocalyptic and psychedelic and joyous and desperate all at the same time. There’s nothing like it. And finally, not only my favorite album of 1969, but my favorite album full stop. Its impact on my life cannot be overstated. It wasn’t the first full album I listened to. It was the first that made me realize what an album *could* be. That every song could have a purpose and a reason for being placed where it was, that you could tell a cohesive story with it, that you could create the most immersive experience and totally transport the listener into another dimension. I’m not kidding when I say it was probably all I listened to for a couple of months after, just Tommy on a loop. I couldn’t get enough of it. I still can’t. It’s incredible to me how such an ambitious (some would say even “pretentious”) project can still feel so personal and raw and emotional. Yet it somehow always does.