#what was chances that author is going to be one of them

[bytemee]

can u write a oneshot where mean!sorority!karina x loser!g!p!reader and reader goes out of town for a lego convention or some nerd shit and karina's like "ok lol" barely replying to their texts

but then reader sends selfies looking kinda good and suddenly karina's not so mean anymore (but she's acting like she doesn't care) and later she's in bed lowkey staring at reader's pics when reader calls and starts yapping about legos all excited while karina listens way too hard. somehow this leads to phone sex 🫣

CYBER SEX — YU JIMIN.

"wish you were here right now, all of the things i'd do."

synopsis. karina swears she doesn’t miss you. not even a little. if her puppy wants to ditch her for some dumb lego convention, that’s your loss. okay...maybe letting you leave was a mistake… but at least she can have some fun making you miss her.

pairing. mean!sorority!karina x loser!gp!reader

warning(s). 18+ (smut), phone sex (duhhhh), g!p reader, pet names (karina calling u puppy ofc), bad writing, and let me know if there's more!

words. 2k

authors note. mean!sorority!karina is so awesome sauce man. i also forgot my own schedule dates.. i apologize.

part one. part two. part four. headcannons. navigation. main masterlist.

karina wasn't mad. she wasn't.

so what if her puppy had ditched town for some stupid lego convention? it wasn't like she cared. she had better things to do than think about you running around, geeking out over plastic blocks.

her sorority sisters, however, were testing her patience. 

"she didn't even tell you until last minute?" giselle smirked over her drink. 

"sounds like someone got ditched," winter added.

"i didn't get ditched." karina rolled her eyes, scrolling through her messages. your last text had been two hours ago—a simple just got here! it's so cool, you'd love it if you gave it a chance :(  to which she had responded with a dry, doubt it. 

and that was it. that was all you were getting from her. if you wanted to act like a loser, that was your problem.

"didn't get ditched," winter mocked under her breath, earning a laugh from ningning.karina threw them a glare before pushing up from the couch, phone clutched in her hand. "i'm going to bed."

she ignored their knowing smirks as she stormed up the stairs to her room, locking the door behind her. 

her phone buzzed just as she flopped onto her bed, and against her better judgment, she checked it immediately.

puppy: look!! isn't it so cute?? :D

attached were three selfies of you grinning with some ridiculously detailed lego set in the background. your glasses were slightly askew, your hoodie a little too big, and your excitement was practically radiating off the screen. 

karina clicked on one of the pictures, zooming in just a little. not because she missed you. not because she thought you looked cute. just... because. 

another text popped up. 

puppy: there's this one panel tomorrow about rare discontinued sets, you think i should go? 

she bit her lip, hesitating before replying.

karina: do whatever you want. 

she stared at her screen for a moment before sighing and tossing her phone onto her pillow. 

she wasn't jealous. she wasn't annoyed. she wasn't—

her phone buzzed again.

puppy: you're so mean ;(

a smirk twitched at her lips.

before she could respond, her phone started ringing. you.

she exhaled sharply before answering, keeping her voice bored. "what?"

"okay, so—listen." your voice came through, breathless with excitement. "i got to see so many cool sets today. like, there was this one display of the millennium falcon that was massive, and i swear, if i had the money, i'd—"

she hummed, pretending to listen as you rambled on about your day. but she was listening. more than she wanted to admit. she could practically picture you, pacing in your hotel room, waving your hands around as you talked a mile a minute.

"like i said, you'd think it's cool if you were here," you muttered, and she could hear the pout in your voice.

"don’t think so."

you groaned. "you're impossible."

she smirked. "and you're a nerd."

"i am not—"

she could hear the shuffle of you moving around, probably flopping onto your bed. then, a pause. your voice was quieter when you spoke again. "you miss me?"

karina rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. she could lie. she could say no. but instead, she muttered, "not really."

you laughed, soft and knowing. "liar."

she closed her eyes, gripping her phone tighter. maybe she was. but she'd never admit it.

not yet, anyway.

karina sighed, rolling onto her side as she let your voice fill the quiet of her room. it was late, and she should have been asleep already, but instead, she was still listening to you ramble about legos of all things—like some lovesick idiot.

not that she was one.

"i swear, some of these sets were insane," you continued, voice slightly muffled like you were getting comfortable. "there was this one star wars display with over ten thousand pieces. can you imagine? ten thousand."

"hm," she hummed, only half-listening now. she was too busy staring at the selfies you'd sent earlier, swiping through them like she hadn't already memorized every detail.

she could hear you shifting again, the sound of fabric rustling against fabric, a small sigh escaping your lips. "kinda wish you were here, though. feels weird without you making fun of me."

karina smirked, rolling onto her back. "i'd make fun of you either way, puppy."

you laughed, soft and breathy. "i know. but still."

a beat of silence stretched between you, comfortable but charged. karina exhaled slowly, her fingers tracing idle circles against her stomach.

"so..." your voice had dropped slightly, quieter, more hesitant. "what are you doing?"

"lying down," she murmured. "thinking."

"about?"

she bit her lip, debating. she could keep playing it cool, keep pretending she wasn't fazed by you being miles away. but she was tired, and her walls were lower than usual, and you sounded so damn cute on the other end of the line.

"...you."

you inhaled sharply. "oh."

a smirk pulled at her lips. she could hear the way you tensed up, the way your breath hitched, and it sent a slow wave of satisfaction through her.

"what, puppy?" she teased, her voice dropping into something lower, something smug. "cat got your tongue?"

you swallowed audibly. "no, i just—"

she hummed, tilting her head back against the pillow. "you're cute when you're flustered, you know that?"

another pause. a shaky exhale.

"karina..."her smirk deepened, fingers idly tracing patterns against her skin. "what's wrong, puppy? you miss me that bad?"

you made a small, frustrated noise on the other end, and karina chuckled, knowing exactly where this was heading.

maybe letting you leave town had been a mistake. but at least now, she could have a little fun reminding you exactly who you belonged to. she bit her lip as she slipped her hand into her shorts, trailing her fingers between her thighs. 

her voice dropped lower, more sultry, more teasing. "use your words, puppy. tell me how much you miss me."

she could hear your breathing pick up, ragged and uneven. "i-i miss you. god, i miss you so much."

a small hum of satisfaction escaped her. you gulped at the sound, your shaky hands fumbling to unbutton your jeans. "i want you," you whined, your voice dropping to a whisper. "i wanna be back there with you."

"yeah?" she asked, a smile pulling at her lips. "and what would you do if you were here?"

she knew the answer, of course, but she wanted to hear you say it. she wanted to hear the way your voice would waver and crack as you finally gave in, finally told her exactly what you wanted.

you whimpered, your hands wrapping around yourself as you imagined her touch. "i'd kiss you," you admitted, your breath hitching. 

karina's smirk deepened, her fingers sliding through her own slick. "where?"

"everywhere," you breathed.

she bit her lip, heat coiling in her stomach. she wanted to tell you to get your ass back here, to come crawling on your knees, to beg her to forgive you for leaving her alone like this. but she knew she was too prideful for that, and besides, she couldn't help but find a bit of amusement in the fact that you were getting yourself off, miles away, just to the sound of her voice.

“you touching yourself, puppy?" she asked, her voice low and teasing.

"mhm," you nodded weakly, even though she couldn't see you. you were breathing hard, your hand moving faster, your chest heaving as you lost yourself in the sound of her voice.

karina could hear the way your breath hitched with each stroke, could hear the way your voice went shaky each time she spoke. she loved it, and not in the usual possessive sense you'd expect from her. no, there was something almost tender in the way she teased you, in the way she kept you wanting.

"god, you're so easy," she murmured.

"please," you whimpered, your voice cracking slightly. "i-i wanna hear you."

karina tilted her head back, her breath catching in her throat. you were always so needy, so desperate for her, and god, she loved it. she loved hearing the way your voice would get hoarse and strained, loved the way you'd beg and plead with her to give you more.

"puppy..." she moaned, "you sound so fucking good." a finger slipped into her heat, curling up and dragging along her walls.

"please," you whimpered again, your hand moving faster. "i need to hear you. need to know if you're touching yourself too."

you could hear her gasp on the other end of the line, and you pictured her, eyes closed, back arched as she pressed down into the touch of her own fingers. you let out a jagged exhale, your whole body trembling with the effort of holding back. she was so gorgeous, and even if you weren't there with her, just hearing her like this was enough to drive you crazy.

"are you?" you asked again, a little more desperately this time.

"fuck, yes," she breathed. "i am."

"fuck." your grip tightened around your phone. "i-i bet you look so pretty right now. bet you feel so good."

"so fucking good, puppy." she was moaning openly now, another finger slipping into her slick heat. karina imagined what it would be like to have you back here, on top of her, inside of her, fucking her so hard that all she could do was cry out your name.

she wanted you so badly, and as her fingers sped up, as the heat built in her stomach, she felt herself getting closer to that edge, closer to falling apart for you. "god, i-i miss you so much," she breathed. her body was on fire with desire, her mind consumed by thoughts of you. 

if she wasn't fingers deep inside herself right now, she would have cringed so hard at herself that she'd turn to stone. but her head was swimming with pleasure, and her tongue was loose with it, and god, she wished you were here so she could take out her pent-up frustration on your body.

"s-shit, puppy," she breathed. "you're mine. all mine."

"yes," you whimpered. "only yours."

her fingers curled against her walls, pressing deep into her slick heat, and fuck, she was close, so close, and—

"k-karina," you moaned, your voice going hoarse. "i-i'm gonna cum. please, please, i—"

"fuck, me too." her voice was a low growl, her body trembling as she felt her orgasm building. she wanted to tell you, wanted to make sure you knew, but all that came out was a series of broken moans. she could hear the way your breaths were coming quicker now, could hear the way they turned into choked gasps.

and god, if it wasn't the hottest thing. 

you were hers, and you were coming undone for her.she was getting close too, and when her hand finally started to ache, and she couldn't bring herself to stop, couldn't bring herself to do anything but press her fingers deeper and deeper until her walls finally clenched around them.

"g-gonna—" you cried out, your body shaking as your release finally took over, spilling out of you in waves of pleasure. karina's body followed soon after, her fingers curling deep inside her slick heat, her muscles clenching around them. she shuddered, gasping, her legs trembling as the waves of pleasure rippled through her.

for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing, the aftershocks still rolling through your body, your skin flushed with heat. the only thing grounding you was the faint static of the phone pressed against your ear.

karina was the first to break the silence, her voice quieter now, almost lazy. "...when are you coming back home?"

you swallowed, still trying to catch your breath. "why?"

"just wondering," she murmured, voice dripping with something that made your stomach twist.

you exhaled slowly, shifting against the sheets. "tomorrow night."

"good."

she didn't elaborate, but you didn't need her to. the implication was clear—she wanted you back.

you smirked, voice teasing as you asked, "miss me that much?"

karina let out a soft scoff, but it lacked any real bite. "shut up."

you chuckled, but before you could push her further, she spoke again, quieter this time.

"...you'll come straight to me, right?"

the words caught you off guard.

for someone who usually kept her emotions so close to her chest, it was unusual for her to ask for something so blatantly. she must be feeling vulnerable. but it wasn't unwelcome. in fact, it sent a wave of affection through you, made your heartbeat a little faster.

you smiled, the words leaving you without a second thought. "of course, i will."

the line was silent for a beat, and then another, and for a moment, you wondered if she was already asleep.

"okay," she whispered.

taglist - @brocoliisscared @spidrgamer @kimminjiissosjdirbidnsjje

part four.

[laambfuzz]

—- cat and mouse. ft schlatt. ᝰ

summary: after schlatt's audio, you had to make it known you had discovered it. all goes well and you think you finally have the upper hand, until you log back onto soundgasm to see a surprise waiting for you.

— tags: smut, lunch club!schlatt, mutual masturbation.. technically?, schlatt does porn (duh), dirty talk, degradation and light praise, open ending.. again

authors note: happy valentines my loves!! wanted to treat you with a longer post and hoped to get this out for the 14th for you all (it's still the 14th for me, so!) whether you celebrated it with someone or not, you've got some pornstar!schlatt to help you with the day. once again, credit to @fanficfox who started this lovely idea.♡

schlatt had finally came back to streaming, after a few days off

and you were going to take tonight as your chance to get him back in this game of cat and mouse you had been playing

you lurked in chat for a while, letting the stream run by as normal. you wanted to wait a little, before inevitably pouncing your prey

and so when he had mentioned a bathroom break, you decided it was your time to strike

you got your donation amount and message ready for him returning, your index finger hovering over your mouse. you wanted to get the donation in as soon as possible, before others started to do the same

you heard the clambering of schlatt almost falling into his room, drawing your attention back to the screen as he sat back on his chair, announcing his return

your finger hit the donation button instantly, and now you just had to wait for the payment to confirm, and for tts to pick up your message

it took a minute, but finally the tts bot spoke up and announced your message

"i can't believe i was soaked a few nights ago, and it was all your fault. tsk tsk, big guy."

schlatts face contorts into one of shock, face turning to his other monitor as he tried to catch who sent the donation

as soon as he saw your name he felt a shiver go through his spine

but he changed his facial expression to one of disgust, shaking his head and murmuring a "what the fuck?" to act like it was just a random thirst comment

but he knew it was more than that, and so did you

chat was on schlatt's side of course, calling out the weirdness of the donation and noticing how uncomfy schlatt had gotten

then another donation pinged through, schlatt's eyes darting to the screen to see if it was from you

and it was

"you made a bet that it was going to rain last stream, and it did."

chat is suddenly spamming OMEGALUL's and KEKW's, laughing at the misconception but still shocked at how the last donation was worded

schlatt swallowed thickly, letting out a heavy sigh as he felt relief. relief from what? he didn't know, but somehow chat not caring made him feel hidden, still

"what, were you thinking of something else? fucking pervs."

the last donation comes through, and chat just continues to laugh. they assume it's at them, and that's what you wanted

but once again, you and schlatt knew it was more than that

schlatt sent somewhat of a glare to the camera, and you felt his dark eyes peering right through you

but you felt a thrill of excitement at the same time, happy to have one-upped him after a few nights ago

however, you really weren't expecting him to get you back so soon

you got into bed later that night and had your phone already loaded onto schlatt's soundgasm page, and that's when you seen it

a new video had been uploaded tonight— desperate little thing

a heat suddenly started to pool in your belly as you read the title, and you clicked on it instantly

your free hand trailed under the covers, nudging your underwear to the side as your middle and index fingers grazed your clit

you press the start button and you're instantly greeted with a dark, low chuckle

"bet you thought you were real clever, huh sweetheart? thought you could try tease me like that and get away with it?"

a whine leaves your throat at his voice, the fact it's condescending and so much lower than you usually hear on stream

you hear a scoff, a creak of the chair before his breath is suddenly hitting the mic

he breathes deeply into the mic for a few moments, his breath hitching occasionally so you can only imagine he's once again stroking himself on the other end

"pathetic fuckin' donation messages, is what they were," he starts, inhaling through his nose before heavily exhaling. "could tell how needy you were. wanted me to see so bad you had to give me your fuckin' cash?"

your fingers toyed with your clit before you rubbed slow circles, moaning softly at his low voice, and how he was insulting you

"bet you're already touching yourself, huh? like a filthy fuckin' slut, all because im talkin' down on you," he chuckles dryly, before groaning lowly. "just pathetic. can't keep your hands off yourself when you see me. so- fuck.. so desperate."

and he was right. you were touching yourself, getting even wetter as he spoke down on you, as if you were nothing

if his words were so wrong and mean, why was it making you feel so good?

a sweet moan drops from his lips, and you can hear the wet sounds as he jerks himself off. "but don't you worry, sweetheart. i like my sluts desperate."

and something about that line drove you wild. you felt your face grow hot at the embarrassing whine you let out as he said it, but it's not as if he was here to hear it anyways

your fingers sped up, stroking the circles faster against your clit as you bucked your hips up into your fingers

anything for the extra friction

the audio continued with schlatt talking you through touching yourself, talking about how he's stroking himself and all the lovely groans, pants and grunts that comes with it

suddenly he stops all movement though, and nothing can be heard

"should i finish, hmm? should i let you hear me cum? beg for me slut, c'mon."

and it's so fucking stupid, and you shouldn't beg for an audio file

and yet..

your fingers are slipping downwards, allowing your thumb to take over the role for rubbing your clit, as the other two fingers now slide inside you

"fuck! please— please schlatt, let me— let me hear it. need to hear you— please."

the words fall from your lips without command, pouring right from your heart as you ache to hear him in return, needing to hear as he hits his climax

you hear a long, slow grunt from the audio causing you to gasp and perk up, fingers continuing their work

"i know you're a good slut f'me, letting everyone know how much you need me. and you love it, don't you? love me putting you in your place, over a fuckin' audio file? pathetic."

schlatt lets out a whine as he pants, a shuddering moan escaping him and you can tell he's cumming, judging by the higher moans and faster movements

"come on, fuckin' listen to me. you better cum now sweetheart, i'm telling you."

and as if his words had some control over you, suddenly your whole body was shaking as the orgasm overtook it, and your slick began to soak your fingers

you worked yourself through the orgasm, slowly but surely working down the pace of your fingers and thumb before you slumped into the bed, chest heaving as you closed your eyes, revelling in schlatt's own heavy breathing

"next time— next time you come to play, remember who owns you sweetheart. i'll see you next time, because i'm hoping you'll come back for more," he starts, before he cuts himself off with a chuckle

"who am i kiddin'? of course you'll come crawling back to me, you always do."

[justleaveacommentfest]

Not an ask, but a story about leaving comments -- not long ago, I left a comment on a fic from almost 10 years ago where the author, in their end notes, discussed how proud they were to have finished this fic (it was an incredible fic that was over 100,000 words long because they're a god and I would also just be shaky in the knees if I accomplished something so long and profound); and they also talked in their author's note how strange it was to be the ages of 22-24 when they were writing this fic and how things weren't always easy, and that they hoped the future was bright for them.

I commented about my life, right now, how I came to find their fic a decade years later from when they finished (a little sheepishly, it feels weird to talk about yourself, but it felt important somehow) -- anyways, I also talked about how reading their author's note reminded me very much of how I felt right now, and how different the world is now from 2015, and how this fic made me feel all kinds of nostalgic and good and hopeful about growing older, and how my god they were this good at 22 and I hope they're still writing -- and even if not, I hope all these years later they really are in a better place.

They replied. They replied! I was so delighted! They are indeed in their thirties! and they are indeed still writing! Things haven't gone as expected, but they've got a healthier dose of perspective on life and how to cope with the hard times now. And it was just so heartwarming to hear and learn about them. And to know that they're still around!

Just seeing that, seeing these people who write about hard times nine years ago, and leaving a comment and getting a reply, it just brings so much hope. Because you never know! You never know if someone's still going to be here, and so when they are it's kind of a-- not a miracle, but it just feels like I'm suddenly so very aware of my existence in the world and theirs too and it just -- it MATTERS. And ao3 and fanfiction in general is so unique to most media where you stare at a television or read a book, you can engage with the creator of that thing you're reading RIGHT THEN AND THERE. And you may not get a reply, or you might get this touching response that lets you feel like you're less alone in the world. It's worth the chance, right? That's what building community and stuff is all about! You can make so many friends this way!

And even if they never reply, don't you want them to know how important their story was to you? And it doesn't matter if the story was finished a decade ago or just posted yesterday, there's still a person that's there that gets to see how their art made an impact on the world. I've made a couple of friends doing this -- and even if I'm not making a friend, I hope I make someone's day a little brighter. God knows I'm always delighted whenever someone comments on my fics.

I admit I'm not perfect -- I don't always comment on fics that I read. I'm trying to be better, I've got a list of fics that I definitely should have written a comment on that I've been going through and writing out how I feel about their writing because damn people are just so talented. This wasn't for just leave a comment fest, I admit, but I do love to see your blog and your drive because it is such an important thing for writers.

I didn't know you were doing a valentines day thing, but what a great idea! I wanted to share my experience, hopefully inspire some other people to go out and comment, and now I'm going to go check another fic off my list of ones that I'd like to comment on. Better late than never!

Have a great day! and Happy Valentine's Day Just Leave a Comment Mini Fest!

I AM HOOTING AND HOLLERING I AM PLAYING THE XYLOPHONE ON MY RIB CAGE WHAT A STORY!!!! WHAT A BEAUTIFUL CONNECTION TO HAVE MADE THROUGH COMMENTS!!! WHAT A WONDERFUL, BEAUTIFUL EXPERIENCE TO HAVE HAD!!

ANON THANK YOU FOR SHARING THIS HAS MADE THIS SKELETON'S DAY

[sxprot]

Can you please make Dandy x reader (romantic) headcanons? :0

I'm gonna embrace you again and again. Let your tears run free, let out your heart.

-----------------•☆

Author's Note: Sure...But I honestly don't know if it satisfies you. Is that what you wanted to ask...? Dear me, I get confused easily. You could request another if it isn't what you wanted, I will do it as compensation for my mistake.

Tw: bad grammar, ooc ig, ass writing

I hope u like it!! Have a great day too!

Dandy x Toon!reader (gn)

-----------

DANDY

It's no secret that he considers you as his favorite. Nearly everyone could see that from the way he treats you, from the time he gives you medkits, discounts,... You were aware of that, of course. But you never once comment on his behavior toward you, thinking of it as just a normal gesture between friends.

"Oh hello there, friends!" He perked up from the mere sight of you and your friends, returning to his shop.

He grew fond of you when you accepted to be his friend. When he's lonely, it's you who brightens his days up like a miracle. It's you that brings joy into his life.

You two would spend your days playing games, hopping around and being silly. Of course, you two are always close to each other, sticking with each other through thick and thin. It's always you that he would smile at, the charming smile that he would wear when you come in the elevator with your slightly beaten-up form

Despite the others asking why he would treat you differently, he would just smile, blithely saying that they're simply mistaken. Why would he do that? He sees everyone as friends, there are no silly things called favoritism, just them getting the wrong things inside their heads. Such blatant excuses that dare to slip out of his mouth...But actions always speak louder than words.

Although-! Dandy is a bit irritated when he gets ignored. He wants to be patient with you, for you to see that he does want the best for you during the ichor infection. He wants you to be safe, he sees you as a fragile and dainty little thing.

The way his face would twist when he saw you interacting with others, the close distance and the way you seemed so happy...Was he not enough? Supporting and helping you wasn't enough for little you?

And ah-! The flower would flinch when you asked him if he was alright, he simply just grinned and returned to his cheerful personality.

"Yes, I'm fine! How about you?"

But he wishes he could stop you from going. It pains him when he sees the one that he cherishes so much—getting hurt by Twisteds.

At last, Dandy is there in his shop, assisting everyone with items for their chance of survival. He has a glimpse of hope that someday this could end, despite how selfish he deems himself to be, he does want you to be happy along with the others.

Still, he watches everyone go, fending their own lives from the Twisted. He ponders about himself, the one that caused this mess.

Was he the true monster? And should he stay away from you? For the star of the show, he starts to question his choice, doubting if he really wants the best for you besides just putting everyone at risk, on the brim of death every day.

If sacrifice others are for his own happiness, does he really deserve your love? You certainly wouldn't like it when you're all alone with a monster.

(Alright, goodnight. I need rest before starting another request , i dont wanna bat my eyes on this anymore 😭😭💔)

[dailyadventureprompts]

Doing a larger post about how to deliver information in a story using Elden ring and it's lack of narrative as an example and I got a bit sidetracked, so enjoy this ramble:

Alright, let me explain myself, but before I do, take a look at the elden ring story trailer...

Damn, that’s an excellent trailer, in just under four minutes we have: 

The inciting incident of Godwyn’s death

The setup that there’s a ruinous war between the demigods that’s reached a stalemate

Multiple mysteries we want to see answered including: What was the rune of death and how was it stolen and why? Who killed Godwyn the golden and set off the Shattering war? What the FUCK is happening to Godwyn? What was the elden ring, who shattered it, and why? Who’s this spooky doll lady And why do I want to kiss her?

The call to action: We live in an age of terrible conflict but you could put a stop to it if you become the elden lord. 

Hell yeah, that’s some excellent setup. None of which is in the game itself. Instead lets look at the intro cinematic..  

The opening narration is weirdly disjointed, with sentences seeming to cut off and jump around randomly. What’s more, We have no relationship to this narrator: in the story trailer the exposition was delivered directly to us the player by a specific character in the form of Ranni. Whereas the opening narration is delivered by an abstract narrator to… no one in particular? The piles of dead tarnished?   The stakes and call to action are likewise far clearer in the story trailer: “Become Elden lord to stop the ruinous war” is way more proactive than “ There was a war.. become elden lord”   Don’t even get me started on the fact that the war took place hundreds to thousands of years before our character even arrived and the setting has just been hanging about in limbo since.  

Whereas the story trailer gave us stakes and mysteries to solve, the opening cinematic leaves you with a general sense of “huh?” as most of the images in the slideshow only make sense once you already know what’s going on. It even goes as far to give you information you don’t need, introducing a bunch of characters that we might not meet for hours with no other context than “ Hey, remember these names for later”.  Fia suffers the worst for this, as the surprise that she’s actually a strangely intimate necromancer is spoiled by the fact that she’s shown canoodling a corpse in the intro. 

How do you fix this?  Have Hoarah Loux give the opening narration. He led the tarnished into exile and now he’s giving a rallying speech summoning them back. The tarnished have suffered during the (thousands of?) years of their banishment in the badlands and now they have a chance to return to the Lands Between, their home, if only they can follow the guidance of grace and complete their queen’s request.  Have the intro highlight how shitty the badlands are, and how glorious a place they left behind. 

This sets up a mystery because as soon as we get to the lands between as we’re faced with this bizarre broken landscape and Marika’s disappearance. We want to desperately find out HOW things got this way, and how/why the queen called us back. Finding Marika isn’t just incidental… her say so and authority  determines whether the Tarnished will be allowed to resettle in the lands between or be hunted as outlaws, giving our character a reason to pursue the plot other than the aimless push out the door we get in the vanilla cutscene. 

Along the way we’d find Ranni, who’d explain about the (preferably ongoing) Shattering war, and what we could do to amend it, whether that be finding the queen or stepping into a place of authority ourselves. 

……I’m going to have to turn this into a d&d campaign aren’t I? 

[flawseer]

What's your opinion of what everyone did after the sealing of Darkstalker in the legends book? It just seemed way too quick with how they just moved on from the horrors, as Fathom and Indigo had kids and Clearsight flew off to a new continent to have kids with and create a whole new tribe. On another note, considering how Fathom was kind of banished (from what I remember) and had kids split off from the Royal Family, do you think there may be a descendant of Fathom somewhere hiding with Animus powers? Or do you think they just ended up being adopted back into the royal family after being discovered?

I personally consider Legends: Darkstalker the best book in the series, in part because I believe Sutherland's writing shines when she is not binding herself to the 5 books arc structure.

That said, the ending does have a bit of that one particular prequel problem. You know, the one where the characters are confirmed to be at a certain location in the future, so they absolutely HAVE to end the prequel story getting to that location IMMEDIATELY.

That's what I was thinking with regards to Clearsight's ending. Now, everyone deals with trauma differently, so I can only comment on her actions from my own limited point of view. I don't think I could have done what she did, at least not so suddenly. She had relationships beyond Darkstalker, with Listener and her parents, whom she presumably was still on good terms with. Like, especially her parents I think never actually learned what happened to her. They might have continued living thinking their only daughter died in the evacuation.

When I think of that part of the book, I personally like to envision an epilogue where Clearsight returns to her parents and lives with the Nightwings for a while (a couple years maybe). Her parents are supportive and Listener is grateful and admires her friend for saving her family. So much so that she reverses her stance on futuresight and authors a scroll about it, crediting Clearsight as a master prophet (this is the scroll that Moonwatcher later reads).

But the other Nightwings still fear Darkstalker, and they remember his girlfriend who stood on stage with him and looked at him adoringly as Darkstalker massacred his own father (they don't know she was tricking Darkstalker). So there is public tension building at Clearsight living with them, and it begins to negatively impact the people who support her. In the end, Clearsight decides to leave the tribe, both to protect her loved ones from getting caught up in her fallout and to separate herself from all that trauma and find her fortune on the new continent.

Notably, she actually tells her friends and parents about that plan this time, and they don't spend the rest of their lives wondering what happened.

As for Fathom and any potential descendants, there is a 'realistic but boring' answer, and one that is a bit more interesting narratively.

The boring answer is that, yes, there are descendants of Fathom around. Lots of them. It is inevitable. If you take an individual and step back one generation, you find they will have 2 parents. Above that they have 4 grandparents. Then 8 great-grandparents, 16 great-great-grandparents. At 10 generations back we are looking at 1024 theoretical ancestors. Now as these numbers get bigger, some of these lines will cross-breed with each other again, so the math isn't entirely clean, but just trust me that these numbers balloon really fast the more generations you go back.

Fathom was alive 2000 years ago. If we lean conservatively and say the average dragon has eggs at age 20, that means 100 generations have come and gone from then to today. The number of ancestors over this many generations is so high, you might pick any Seawing currently alive in present day and there will be a very decent chance of them having Fathom somewhere in their bloodline.

You go back far enough and everyone starts to be related to everyone else. Ancestry is funny like that.

For the more narratively interesting answer: I do believe Fathom re-integrated into the royal family again. One thing that needs to be kept in mind is that Pearl, like her brother, also had her entire life uprooted by the Royal Seawing Massacre. She was all at once dealing with the shock of losing her parents and the stress of having to now run the entire kingdom without being prepared for it at all. There was no time to process any grief, or the lingering fear. When she sent her brother away and forbade him to have children, that wasn't an act of malice, it was the only solution she could think of to keep everyone safe from the future threat of magic without also having to execute the last part of her family.

Neither of them ever had any ill will against the other. Pearl was dealt the shittiest of hands and she tried to make the best play she could at the time, while desperately trying to keep herself together. That is what I think.

As Pearl and Fathom got older and the situation in the Sea Kingdom stabilized, Pearl might have finally been able to reflect upon what happened and to process some of her neglected emotional turmoil. I believe Fathom eventually reached out again and they both found a way to reconcile, mending their fractured relationship. I don't know if Fathom moved back into the palace; perhaps he chose to stay away to keep the rest of the populace at ease. But I think his children or grand-children would eventually re-integrate into the royal family.

This turned out a bit wordy and the question was sitting in my inbox for a good while. But I hope this provides an interesting answer.

[panlight]

One thing that I STILL can’t understand is why do the Cullen kids still go to school?

They know everything and if somebody asks they just can say that they’re homeschooled or something.

I’d be fed up with school over the time.

This is another one of those "author choices." By that I mean this is something the author wanted (for the Cullen kids to be in high school), but from the POV of the characters, it really makes no sense.

(I also think the name "Renesmee" is an author choice. I will never believe that it feels in-character for Bella to have come up with. Edward Jacob/Edward Junior, on the other hand, is VERY Bella IMO. Also moving to Forks at all is an author choice. Even for purely selfish reasons of secrecy and safety, it makes no sense for the Cullens to move back to the ONE AREA where there are people who know what they are. Absolute clown shoes. But Author Choice because story needed to happen).

Author choices aren't necessarily bad. When you're writing a story you have to make choices. Part of the job. Where you run into trouble is when it seems to go against what the characters would choose themselves.

SM had this dream about a beautiful vampire boy and a 'normal' human girl in a meadow and then she had to work backwards about how they met. And she picked 'high school' and then she had to justify it with the pretty clunky 'helps us blend in' stuff when it's clear that they make absolutely zero effort to actually blend in and are getting nothing fulfilling out of this experience. They could say they are homeschooled. They could just chill at the house and not be in public at all. They could say they are in and/or actually go to college, which at least offers the chance to tailor your experience more: American high school over and over again is going to cover most of the same stuff. In college you can pick different majors, different electives. More variety, more choice. But Edward has to be in high school to meet Bella in bio class. Author choice.

It feels like "I want them in high school" and then tried to force it, which is very different from saying, "okay I have this group of vampires with physical ages ranging from 17 to 26, how do I think they would live?" and looking at it from the characters' POV, from which high school is just obviously the worst, most nonsensical option.

I think the other part is the Bella-centricity of it all. They have to be in school because Bella is in school. Would not be surprised at all if SM decides that going forward they don't repeat high school anymore because now Edward and Bella are Adults and Married so it would be weird; but oh hey, aren't Rosalie/Emmett and Alice/Jasper also married adults and they still had to do it? Sure but they aren't the main character.

[msklassickilla]

Delirious | J. Uso|R. Reigns Ten

Summary: When Titania buys an old typewriter from a closing thrift store, she thinks it’s just a vintage gem—until the words she types start coming true. However, the typewriter doesn’t just bring fantasies to life—it twists them. Giving Titania way more than she bargained for.

Pairing: Titania Marshall (Black OC) x Jey Uso x Roman Reigns

Author’s Note: This story is another AU thing. So, it might align, or it might not. I will try my best to keep it current enough. Nonetheless, it’s mash up of a few things: That one episode of Goosebumps. That one episode of the Twilight Zone. And that movie by the same title, Delirious featuring John Candy. I’ma make it work. Plus, I like mystical spooky shit with a bit of Jerry Springer type mess.

Warning(s): SMUT incoming. Some minor harsh language. A smidge of toxic behavior.

Disclaimer: This work of art is fictional in nature including the original characters created by me. I do not own any of the existing characters or lyrics from songs referenced in this story (if any). All rights belong to their respective owners with the exception of my original characters. This work is purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended to cause harm.

Ten

Titania sat on the couch, staring at the muted television, barely registering the flickering images on the screen. The house was quiet now. Jey had left for the airport that morning, kissing her goodbye with his usual warmth, promising to call her later. It was supposed to be comforting, knowing she had a few days to herself, a chance to clear her mind. Instead, she felt untethered.

There were only two weeks left until the move. Two weeks until she packed up everything and left behind the life she had built before all of this. Before Jey. Before the typewriter. Before everything shifted. She should be excited. She had written this future. She had wanted it.

Then why did she feel like she was walking into something she couldn’t escape?

Titania leaned forward, rubbing her temples. She just needed to shake it off. Find a routine. Get back to the version of herself that existed before she started rewriting everything. Maybe she’d go out today. Get some fresh air. Do something normal.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table. She glanced down, expecting Jey or Naomi, but the name on the screen made her stomach clench.

Tamya (FaceTime Call)

Titania exhaled sharply, guilt curling tight in her chest. She hadn’t spoken to her sister in weeks. The last time they talked was before she bought the typewriter, before her entire world rearranged itself into something unrecognizable. She had been avoiding her, just like she had been avoiding her parents.

But Tamya wasn’t like their mother and father. Their parents would be disappointed, but Tamya would be mad as this wasn’t like her at all. Titania forced herself to answer. The moment her sister’s face filled the screen, she knew she had been right.

"Girl," Tamya’s voice was sharp, her expression pinched with irritation. "Why am I hearing from Mia that you’re moving to Florida? Is this what we doing now? Keeping secrets?"

Titania’s stomach dropped.

She should have known Mia would say something. Her best friend had always been loose-lipped, but Titania had rewrote things, made her someone who believed in their relationship. It hadn’t occurred to her that Mia hadn’t been rewritten enough to keep secrets.

Titania scrambled for an excuse. "I—I wanted to tell you myself."

Tamya’s eyes narrowed. "And when exactly were you gonna do that? After you moved? What the hell is going on with you? This ain’t like you."

"It was supposed to be a surprise," Titania lied, though she could hear how weak it sounded.

"A surprise?" Tamya’s brows shot up. "Titania, this is your whole damn life! You don’t make decisions like this without telling your family especially me.”

Titania swallowed, feeling the heat of shame spread up her neck.

"You never kept secrets from me, T," Tamya continued, her voice softer now, but no less firm. "Not even from Mom and Dad, but especially not from me. You always told me everything."

Titania’s throat tightened. She knew Tamya was right. Before Jey, before the typewriter, before all of this, she had always confided in her big sister. Tamya was the person she trusted the most, the one who knew her better than anyone.

But what could she even say?

That she had written herself into a different life? That she was losing track of what was real and what wasn’t? That she was terrified of what was to come because things hadn’t really been working out in the way she wanted but she didn’t know how to fix it.

She couldn’t say any of that.

"I just didn’t want to deal with everyone freaking out," Titania said, grasping for anything that might calm her sister down.

Tamya’s expression remained unreadable for a moment before she sighed, shaking her head. "Mama and Daddy are gonna lose it when they find out. And I swear, T, if you think you’re gonna blindside them with this, you got another thing coming."

Titania’s pulse spiked. "You’re not gonna tell them, are you?"

Tamya folded her arms, studying her carefully. "With the way you been moving? I should."

"Tamya, please," Titania whispered. "I’ll tell them soon. Just… not yet. I still got things to get in order."

Her sister exhaled, tapping her nails against her arm before nodding. "Fine. For now. But you need to get your shit together." Her voice softened again, worry replacing the irritation. "This isn’t like you. Not calling, keeping secrets, making huge life changes out of nowhere. Something’s not right with you, T."

Titania’s chest tightened.

Tamya didn’t know how true that was.

"I’m fine," she lied.

Tamya didn’t believe her, but she didn’t press. She just sighed again. "Just… don’t forget who you are, okay?"

Titania forced a small smile. "I won’t."

Tamya gave her one last long look before hanging up. The screen went dark, leaving Titania staring at her own dim reflection. She set the phone down slowly, pressing her fingers against her temples.

Her sister was right.

She wasn’t herself anymore.

Before Jey, before the typewriter, she had been Titania Marshall. Daughter of Teedria and Gary Marshall. Little sister to Tamya and Kenneth Marshall.

So why did she feel like that person was slipping away?

Her gaze flickered toward the spare room, where the typewriter sat packed away in its box. The thought creeped in before she could stop it. Maybe she didn’t have to lose herself. Maybe she could just… adjust a few things.

Titania shoved the thought away, shaking her head. No. She wasn’t doing that again.

She just needed to figure out how to get back to being who she was without losing Jey in the process. Without letting Roman pull her into something she didn’t understand. Without making things worse.

----

Titania tried to fall back into her normal routine, but normal didn’t exist anymore. She went through the motions—waking up, making coffee, checking emails, answering a few messages—but nothing felt the same. Nothing felt like hers.

Her phone was constantly lighting up. Jey sending her videos from the gym, sweaty and grinning like he wasn’t thousands of miles away. Naomi checking in, reminding her how excited she was for Titania to move down. It was all sweet, thoughtful—everything she could’ve wanted.

But the more she saw those messages, the more she realized her old life was slipping away.

She wanted both.

Her old life. Her new life. The independence she had before. The love she had now. But could she even have both?

The thought made her chest feel tight, her stomach twisting with something restless. She needed to get out of her own head. Needed to do something.

Her phone buzzed beside her. A FaceTime call.

Jey.

Titania exhaled, grabbing her phone. She forced a smile as she answered, pushing everything else to the back of her mind.

Jey grinned at her, his background showing a hotel room. He looked relaxed, fresh from a shower, a towel draped around his shoulders. “Damn, you look good. You miss me yet?”

Titania let out a soft laugh, despite the knot in her stomach. “I don’t know. It’s been kinda nice having the house to myself.”

Jey scoffed, shaking his head. “Lies. You probably been walking around in my T-shirts all day, wishing I was there.”

Titania rolled her eyes, warmth blooming in her chest despite everything. This was her normal. Jey. The conversation drifted to his match, his workout, what he had for dinner. He always liked keeping her updated, knowing she was invested in the details of his life.

“How’s everything over there?” he asked, leaning back against the pillows.

Titania hesitated, fingers gripping the phone a little tighter. “Good. Just getting things together for the move. Nothing crazy.”

Jey’s expression softened. “Yeah? You excited?”

Titania nodded. “Yeah. I am.”

And she meant it. She just didn’t know which part of her was excited anymore.

They talked for another fifteen minutes before Jey started dozing off mid-conversation, his exhaustion catching up to him. Titania smiled as he mumbled a soft "Love you," before hanging up.

She set the phone down, staring at the dark screen. Jey was her future. She had written this life, created it. She wasn’t going to let it slip away. But as the quiet settled in around her, the unease crept back in.

She found herself grabbing her laptop, her fingers moving before she could talk herself out of it. Titania started searching for the old thrift store. The place where she had bought the typewriter. The place that no longer existed.

She scoured the internet, looking up the store’s name, the address—anything that might lead her to information about the old man who sold it to her. But there was nothing.

No business listings. No past reviews. No evidence that it had ever been there.

Titania’s fingers stilled over the keyboard, unease settling deep in her stomach. She leaned back against the couch, staring at the screen. Her heart pounded in her ears. This didn’t make sense. There was no way a store could just vanish without a trace.

She was about to close the tab when a search result caught her eye. It wasn’t about the thrift store. But the title made something in her chest tighten.

"Reality Shifting: The Science of Unseen Worlds."

She clicked without thinking.

The page loaded, revealing an old blog. The background was dark, tiny constellations scattered across the top like a map of forgotten stars. The entries spanned years, some dated as far back as a decade ago, the author only posting sporadically, as if they wrote only when they had something urgent to say.

Titania’s pulse quickened as she skimmed through the opening paragraphs. The blog wasn’t just about shifting realities. It was about rewriting them.

Her breath caught in her throat as she read further.

The author spoke of dimensions layered on top of each other, stacked like pages in a book. Most people only ever existed in one version of their story. But sometimes—rarely, dangerously—those pages could be rewritten.

The symptoms of a "rewritten reality" were listed out carefully, methodically, like someone had studied them for years.

Sudden changes in relationships, even with people you’ve known for years.

Objects appearing in your home that you don’t remember buying.

People knowing things about you that never actually happened.

A growing sense of unease, like you’re losing control of your own story.

Titania felt the blood drain from her face. This wasn’t paranoia. This wasn’t stress. This was real.

Her chest rose and fell in slow, measured breaths, her mind racing. She scrolled further, searching for anything that might help. A passage buried deep within an old post caught her attention.

"A rewritten reality cannot be erased. It can only be reshaped. One cannot go back—only forward. But to move forward, one must first decide: What is the true story?"

Titania’s breath shuddered. The true story. She stared at the words, rereading them over and over. If she couldn’t erase what had happened, maybe she could… blend it.

Maybe she could make both lives—the one she had and the one she had written—exist together.

Maybe she could have everything.

Titania snapped her laptop shut, a decision settling heavy in her chest. She stood, moving toward the spare room, her heartbeat loud in her ears. The typewriter sat on the desk, waiting. Her fingers trembled as she reached for it, hovering over the keys.

This time, she didn’t hesitate.

She started to type.

"Can you blend both of my realities?"

The moment she pressed the last key, the typewriter responded. Words appearing right after hers.

"Is that what you desire?"

Titania swallowed, her throat dry. She exhaled slowly, steadying herself before she typed again.

"Yes. I desire to blend both realities into one."

The machine was silent. Then words appeared in response.

"Good."

She let out a shaky breath, relief flooding her chest. But just as she was about to pull away, another message appeared.

"The past and future have been blended. Her story has changed."

Titania read the words carefully, slowly, letting them settle. The answer wasn’t ominous. It was good news. She had done the right thing.

She could have it all now. Then why did she still feel like something was still amiss?

----

For the first time in weeks, Titania felt normal. She wasn’t questioning what was real. She wasn’t obsessing over the typewriter. She wasn’t being consumed by thoughts she couldn’t control.

Everything felt… balanced. Jey was texting and calling as usual. Naomi was checking in, excited about them growing closer. She had managed to called her parents, her brother, even Mia. Everyone knew now. The haze she had been trapped in for weeks had lifted. She had both worlds now. And it was good.

Titania stood in the spare room, staring at the packed-up typewriter. She had done it. Her old life, her new life—merged. No more rewriting. No more questioning. She had gotten what she wanted. She was happy. Wasn’t she?

She inhaled deeply, pushing the thought away. She had a work meeting soon, and she wasn’t about to let her mind spiral when things were finally going right. This was what she had been fighting for. A life with Jey, a love she had dreamed of, without losing everything she had before.

Her laptop was already open on the desk when she sat down, logging into the virtual meeting. The familiar faces of her colleagues appeared one by one, grounding her in something solid. Despite everything that had changed, she still had this—her job, her career, her independence. She listened, took notes, nodded at the right moments, forcing herself to focus.

Then her phone vibrated.

She glanced at it quickly, expecting Jey or Naomi, but the name on the screen made her stomach clench. Roman.

Titania froze. She hadn’t given him her number. Had she? And she wasn’t supposed to have his. Her throat felt dry as she stared at the screen. The meeting continued, voices droning in the background, but she no longer heard them. The phone vibrated again. Another message. She forced herself to ignore it, her fingers curling into fists. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to entertain this. She had fixed things.

But as soon as the meeting ended, her resolve cracked.

Her hands moved before she could stop them, grabbing the phone, unlocking it. The first message was simple.

"Jey gave me your new number. Why did you change it? Anyway, did you get the bracelet? I thought you would at least tell me you got it."

A slow, creeping unease spread through her.

Jey gave him her number? That wasn’t right. Why would he? And the bracelet—Titania hadn’t even touched it since the day it arrived. It sat in its box, tucked away in her jewelry drawer. But Roman remembered sending it and was expecting confirmation.

Her fingers tightened around the phone. If she ignored this, it wouldn’t continue. If she ignored it, maybe whatever past Roman thought they had would be forgotten.

Another vibration. Incoming call—Roman.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Panic surged through her, and without thinking, she threw the phone across the room. It landed on the carpet with a soft thud, the ringing silenced. She pressed a hand to her chest, her heartbeat erratic. She shouldn’t have reacted like that. But why did it feel like she had been caught? Why did he feel like something she couldn’t outrun?

Minutes passed before she worked up the nerve to retrieve the phone. A voicemail icon waited for her. She should delete it. Pretend it never happened. Her thumb hovered over the screen, hesitating—then she tapped play.

Roman’s voice came through the speaker, deep and smooth, too familiar.

"We need to talk, sweetheart. Call me back."

Titania’s stomach tensed.

Not Titania. Not Tee. Sweetheart.

She swallowed, but it didn’t ease the tightness in her throat. He had said it like they had always been like this. Like this wasn’t new. Like she already agreed to whatever this was to him. A shiver crawled up her spine, but something else tangled with it, something she refused to name.

----

“Baby, what are you doing down there?”

She turned toward the doorway, still gripping her phone like a lifeline, as Jey dropped his bags and gave her an easy smile.

Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

She could still hear Roman’s voice in her head, smooth and steady through the voicemail. We need to talk, sweetheart. The heat of it was still clinging to her skin, the weight of something she didn’t want to acknowledge pressing down on her.

She fumbled for an excuse. “I—uh, I was just looking for something.”

Jey cocked his head slightly, his brows drawing together. “Everything okay?”

Titania forced herself to move, to push off the floor and cross the room toward him. She tucked her phone behind her back as she reached him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face into his chest.

Jey hesitated for a second before his arms circled her, his body warm and solid against hers. “Damn,” he murmured, his voice dropping slightly. “Missed me that much?”

Titania shut her eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne, grounding herself. This is what’s real. Not the message. Not the lingering temptation curling around her thoughts like an unwanted guest. Jey was here. Jey was hers.

“I just wasn’t expecting you this early,” she whispered, tightening her hold on him.

Jey smiled against her hair. “Caught an early flight.” His hands slid up and down her back, soothing, possessive. “Told you I’d be home before you knew it.”

Titania swallowed, nodding against his chest. She wouldn’t think about the message. She wouldn’t ask him about giving Roman her number. Not now.

Jey pulled back slightly, tilting her chin up. “Come on, let’s go out.”

Titania blinked. “Go out?”

“Yeah.” His lips quirked. “Movie night. You and me. Remember?”

Titania felt something loosen in her chest. A date night. A normal night. Exactly what she needed.

She nodded, managing a small smile. “Okay. Let me get ready. I had forgot all about our date.”

Jey kissed her forehead before stepping back, grabbing his bags. “I mean I can go to the movies by myself, girl,” he joked, heading toward the bedroom. “I’ll date me if you won’t.”

Titania let out a small laugh, shaking her head as she followed after him. She had to hold onto this.

----

The movie theater was perfect. Dim lighting, plush seats, a full menu that made it feel more like a private dining experience than a typical night at the movies. This was exactly what Titania had always wanted—date nights with Jey, little pockets of time where the outside world didn’t exist. And for the most part, it worked.

Jey was completely relaxed, stretched out beside her with one arm draped over the back of her seat, the other reaching for his food. He made her laugh between bites, whispering jokes and little comments about the film, his fingers tracing absentminded circles against her shoulder.

Titania wanted to get lost in it. She wanted to forget about everything else. But the peace shattered the moment she stepped into the bathroom.

She had only been in there for a minute, washing her hands, when her phone vibrated inside her purse. The sound barely registered at first—until she glanced down at the screen.

Roman.

A chill curled down her spine. Her first instinct was to ignore it. She had done it before. She could do it again. But the buzzing stopped. A message appeared.

Her stomach clenched. Slowly, Titania reached for her phone, swiping to open the text.

“You looked beautiful tonight. Shame you’re wasting it.”

The breath left her lungs. Her head snapped up, eyes darting around the bathroom as if he could be standing right there. But she was alone. He wasn’t here. He couldn’t be. Then she remembered. The Instagram story. It had been so small, so insignificant. Just a simple mirror selfie of her outfit before they left, posted without thinking. And then later, a quick boomerang of the drinks at the theater, Jey’s arm barely in frame. That was it. That was all.

She gripped the edge of the sink, her pulse hammering.

This was too much. He knew too much. How did he know her Instagram handle? She hadn’t even thought that was possible. But somehow, he had been watching.

Titania inhaled sharply, forcing herself to focus. She couldn’t let this get to her. She had made her choice. She was with Jey.

She needed to prove it.

Steadying herself, she turned off the faucet, squared her shoulders, and stepped out of the bathroom. Jey was waiting for her in the lobby, his back to her as he scrolled through his phone.

Titania forced a smile as she reached him, slipping her arms around his waist. Jey grinned, tucking his phone away and kissing the side of her head. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice even.

She wouldn’t think about the message. She wouldn’t think about Roman. The drive home was quiet at first, Jey humming along to the music while Titania stared out the halfway down window, trying to sort through the storm in her head. But the more she tried to push the thoughts away, the more restless she became.

She needed to replace them.

She needed to fill the space with Jey.

Titania shifted in her seat, rubbing her palms against her thighs, her heart pounding for an entirely different reason now. She turned toward Jey, her gaze flickering over him. He was focused on the road, his jaw sharp in the dim glow of the dashboard, his hands loose on the wheel.

She reached over, sliding a hand over his thigh.

Jey’s brows lifted slightly. “What you doin’ over there?”

Titania bit her lip. “Pull over.”

Jey glanced at her, amused. “What?”

“Just… pull over,” she repeated, nodding toward a small, wooded area off the side of the road.

Jey hesitated but eventually obliged, steering the car onto the dirt path and parking under the cover of the trees. The engine cut, leaving them in silence.

“Tee, what’s—”

Before he could finish, Titania was climbing over the console, her dress riding up as she settled herself in his lap. Jey’s eyes widened, his hands instinctively gripping her hips.

“Tee—”

She silenced him with a kiss, fierce and desperate. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. She needed this. Needed him.

Jey groaned into her mouth, his hands sliding up her thighs, and she could feel the moment he stopped questioning her. He kissed her back with equal intensity, his grip tightening as she ground against him.

“Jey,” she whispered against his lips, her voice breathless. “I need you. I need it.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His hands found the hem of her dress, pulling it up and over her head. She was left in nothing but her bra and panties, the cool night air brushing against her skin. Jey’s eyes darkened as he took her in, his hands roaming over her curves.

“Damn, Tee,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “What’s got into you?”

The words sent a wave of heat through her, and she reached for his belt, fumbling slightly in her haste. Jey chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made her ache.

“Easy,” he said, but his own hands weren’t exactly steady as he helped her free him from his jeans.

When they were finally skin to skin, Titania let out a shaky breath. She could feel the hardness of him pressing against her, and it only fueled her desperation.

“Tell me what you want,” Jey murmured, his lips trailing down her neck.

“You,” she gasped, her hips rocking against him. “I just want you.”

Jey’s hands gripped her hips, guiding her as she sank down onto him. The stretch was exquisite, and she threw her head back with a moan. Jey’s groan matched hers, his forehead dropping to her shoulder as he adjusted to the feel of her.

They moved together; the rhythm slow at first but quickly building. Titania’s hands braced against his chest, her nails digging into his skin as she rode him. Jey’s hands were everywhere—on her hips, her ass, her waist—pulling her closer, deeper.

“Jey,” she whimpered, her voice breaking. “Don’t stop.”

“Never,” he growled, his grip tightening as he thrust up into her.

The sensation was overwhelming, and Titania felt herself spiraling closer to the edge. Her breath came in short, jagged gasps, her body trembling with the force of her pleasure.

“Fuck, Tee,” Jey groaned, his hands gripping her ass as he spanked her, the sharp sound echoing in the small space of the car.

The sting only heightened her arousal, and she cried out, her body clenching around him. Jey cursed, his hips stuttering as he followed her over the edge. They stayed like that for a moment, both of them breathless and shaking. Titania’s forehead rested against Jey’s, her heart still racing.

She should have felt satisfied. She should have felt grounded. But she didn’t. Jey’s arms tightened around her, his lips pressing against her forehead, completely lost in her.

“Tee,” he murmured, voice still wrecked, still clinging to the moment. “You ain’t never been like that before. I like that shit.”

Titania swallowed, pressing closer, burying her face in his neck.

Maybe I needed it.

Jey’s fingers skimmed her back, slow, lazy. “What’s mine is mine, right?”

Titania exhaled shakily, nodding. “Right.”

Jey hummed in satisfaction, his grip on her just a little tighter. She closed her eyes. She needed to hold onto this. She needed to believe it.

----

Titania was exhausted, but Jey wasn’t done with her yet.

They barely made it inside before he was pulling her back into his arms, his lips trailing over her skin, his hands gripping her like he was trying to burn himself into her. His passion had always been fierce, but tonight? Tonight, it was insatiable.

Titania let him take what he wanted, let herself give in, let him remind her that she belonged to him. Only him.

She needed this.

Needed to drown out the whisper of Roman’s voice. Needed to erase the way her body had tensed at his text, at the message she never sent.

Jey tangled his fingers in her hair, tilting her head back, murmuring against her lips. “Say it.”

Titania shivered, her breath hitching. “I’m yours.”

Jey groaned, satisfied. “Damn right you are.”

And he made sure she knew it.

----

The house was quiet.

Titania lay in Jey’s arms, his warmth pressed against her, his breathing deep and even. She should have been asleep. She should have felt safe, at peace.

But something wasn’t right.

She swore she had heard it—faint, just on the edge of her consciousness. A sound that didn’t belong.

Click. Click. Click.

Her body tensed. She held her breath, listening. The room was still, the faint hum of the AC the only thing breaking the silence. Jey didn’t stir. He was deep in sleep, completely unaware. But then she heard it again.

Click. Click. Click.

Titania’s stomach twisted. That wasn’t possible. She packed the typewriter away. Didn’t she?

Carefully, she slid out of Jey’s embrace, barely breathing as she pulled herself from the bed. The hardwood was cool against her bare feet as she crept toward the door, her pulse a steady, suffocating drum in her ears.

The hallway stretched before her, dark and unmoving. But the sound was coming from the spare room.

Titania hesitated.

She should turn around. Climb back into bed. Pretend she heard nothing. But her feet carried her forward anyway. The door to the spare room was cracked open. A sliver of light stretched across the floor. Titania pressed a shaking hand against the wood, pushing it open further, her breath lodged in her throat.

Her knees nearly gave out.

The typewriter sat on the desk. It wasn’t in the box. It was back in its place. Waiting.

And a new message had been typed. Titania’s chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths as she stepped forward, her legs barely supporting her weight.

The words on the page made her skin crawl.

"Blending your worlds did not change the fate that awaits you."

Titania covered her mouth, a strangled sound escaping her throat.

No. This couldn’t be. She had fixed things. She had said what she wanted and didn’t want.

But the typewriter— the typewriter was always one step ahead.

----

The next morning, Jey kissed her lazily before heading to the gym, leaving Titania in bed with a lingering ache in her body and a storm in her mind.

She needed air.

She needed clarity.

But what she got instead was Roman.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. FaceTime. Titania’s heart stopped. She knew who it was before she even looked.

Roman.

She shouldn’t answer. She should ignore him. But she didn’t. With trembling fingers, she slid her thumb over the screen.

Roman’s face filled the display, his expression easy, familiar, like nothing about this was strange.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

Titania swallowed. “Roman…”

His eyes flickered over her face, reading her like an open book. “Been ignoring me.”

Titania forced a breath. “I’ve been busy.”

He hummed, unconvinced. “That right?”

Titania didn’t know how to respond. There was something too steady, too knowing in his expression, like he was waiting for her to slip.

She straightened. “Why did you send me that bracelet?”

Roman’s brows lifted slightly. “You don’t remember?”

Titania stiffened. He wasn’t playing with her. He wasn’t teasing. He was genuinely confused why she didn’t remember why.

Titania’s breath grew unsteady. “Roman… I don’t know what you think we had, but—”

Something shifted in his expression.

For the first time, he looked hurt.

“How could you forget?” His voice was quiet, edged with something Titania couldn’t name. “I don’t—I don’t understand. We were—” He stopped himself, exhaling sharply, shaking his head like he was trying to steady something inside himself.

Titania opened her mouth, ready to demand answers, ready to piece together what reality he thought they had.

But before she could speak, the front door opened.

Jey.

Titania’s body snapped to attention. Panic surged through her, her heart hammering as she quickly hung up.

The room felt too small, too charged.

Jey’s voice carried through the house. “Tee?”

Titania fumbled to put the phone down, trying to shake the weight of the conversation. “Yeah, I’m in here!”

Jey appeared in the doorway, his gym bag slung over his shoulder, his expression easy—until he really looked at her.

Something shifted.

His eyes flickered over her, reading the tension in her shoulders, the way she was holding herself too still.

His jaw tensed. “Who was that?”

Titania’s breath hitched.

Jey’s gaze dropped to the phone on the bed. He exhaled, running a hand down his face. “It was Hakeem, wasn’t it?”

Titania’s stomach dropped. She blinked. “What?”

Jey scoffed, shaking his head. “I fucking knew it. Knew I ain’t like that dude. And now you sneakin’ around—”

“Jey—”

“Don’t,” he snapped. His face darkened, something raw flashing behind his eyes. Something possessive. “Just tell me the truth. You fucking him, Titania?”

Titania stared at him, her pulse erratic. He didn’t suspect Roman. He had no idea. And somehow, that made this worse.

Before she could speak, her phone vibrated again. Jey glanced at it, his anger already simmering. Titania barely had time to react before he grabbed it off the bed and hurled it across the room. The sharp crack of it shattering against the wall made Titania flinch.

Her heart was pounding, her entire body locked in place. “Jey—”

“I’m out,” Jey muttered, shaking his head, his breathing ragged. “I’m done with this shit.”

Titania’s throat was dry. “It’s not what you think—”

Jey’s jaw clenched. “Don’t.”

He turned, storming out.

Titania barely registered the sound of the front door slamming shut.

Then—

The typewriter.

Titania heard it before she saw it. That familiar clacking of keys. Her stomach twisted violently.

She turned, her feet moving on their own, her breath shallow as she stepped into the spare room. The typewriter sat on the desk, waiting.

The paper was fresh.

A new message.

"He's always been this way. But for her, he'll only get worse."

Titania’s knees buckled and she crashed to the floor.

No.

No, this wasn’t what she asked for.

This wasn’t what she meant. But it was too late. The story was shaping into something she didn’t like. And she knew deep down she couldn’t stop it.

----

Read Chapter 11... (coming soon)

Want to join the taglist, let me know!

Taglist: @theusotwinzcom @yana3sworld @mikaelsonharem7 @isabella-2025 @bebesobrielo @jstarr86 @jeypunkk @usoholic @baybehkay @key05marie

Want to read from the beginning, click here

[obsessive-reylin]

──⟢・⸝⸝ Your Fault...

Warnings: Breaking in; stalking; kidnapping; victim blaming; torture; murder, mention of suicide; blood

Author’s Notes: This was so self-indulgent. Writing this instead of scratching my skin until I see blood. Also don't know how to name him, suggestions ?

You are welcome to send requests, don't forget to check this post: ಇ.┊[requests] .ᐟ

Yandere sadist! who finds you at random, just doing some mindless shopping when you pass by him. What a cute little thing he thinks to himself...

Yandere sadist! who finds you again at the coffee shop that he works at and the smile naturally creeps up at his face when you order your drink and don't recognise him

Yandere sadist! who goes out for a smoke, leaning back against the brick wall of the shop when he spots you entering a building, bidding goodbye to your friends

Yandere sadist! who sits on the stairs of the building for the whole day, waiting for you to just get out so he can finally see where his pretty little bird lives

Yandere sadist! who finally gets his chance and easily breaks into your flat, remembering every single little detail that sheds light on you as a person, maybe even stealing some stuff that you'll probably won't notice are gone

Yandere sadist! who after breaking into your flat decided to follow you every day, from your home to your work, to your friend's place, following you like he was your shadow

Yandere sadist! who eventually got bored of the routine and just decided to kidnap you on a whim. Dumb little thing, walking in dark alleys by yourself, you were asking for it

Yandere sadist! who chains you up in his room, putting a gag in your mouth and stripping you, leaving you only in lingerie

Yandere sadist! who taunts you for being so dumb, so careless, now look where you ended up; would've been better if he was a serial killer

Yandere sadist! who makes you beg him for anything, be it water, food, or stopping his knife from going too deep into your arm. He just loves the sight of you crying for dear life.

Yandere sadist! who makes you call your parents, telling that you either fake your suicide on call or he goes out there and kills them. Hearing their screams thinking that their precious daughter killed herself was pure ecstasy

Yandere sadist! who is once caught by one of his neighbour and he drags him to where you are, making you watch as he kills him, slowly, breaking his bones, pulling his teeth out and slowly slicing his throat, not even fully, leaving him gagging on his own blood.

Yandere sadist! who becomes bored at your numbness, it's like you became a shell of the person you've been months before. It's not the person he fell in love with torturing.

Yandere sadist! who doesn't even feel any type of pleasure when he hurts you, because you're smiling. That expression is only deserved for him, not you. He's the one who's supposed to enjoy himself in moments like these.

Yandere sadist! who goes back to his usual days, working the boring coffee shop, when a coworker strikes up a conversation during the smoke break.

Yandere sadist! who's smile goes wide when she whisper's to him about screams near his house. So his little bird didn't loose her wings after all...

❦. ┊ [navigation] .ᐟ ❦. ┊ [character's masterlist] .ᐟ

[world-of-aus]

The Thirsty Barrel

Pairing: Bullrider!Bucky x Bartender!Reader

Warnings: Bullrider!Bucky that's it, thats the warning.

Author's Note: Y'all would not imagine how long this piece has been sitting in my documents just waiting to be wrapped up and well I think I may have done it. Writing has been hard, finding a muse has been hard, but with what little comes to me I take it and run. Enjoy my sweeter than Tennessee whiskey bull-rider.

Unsure of where to go after the rodeo? Thirsty barrel was the hottest family-owned spot for great food, great music, dancing, and the greatest eight seconds of your life, or your money back.  

The venue was at its peak in patrons this evening, the crowd stretching as far as your eye could see behind the packed bar where you ran drinks. This was the venues norm when the PBR was involved. The crowd a mix of rodeo goers, professional bull riders, cowboys, and the ever-eager buckle bunnies just waiting to snatch a hat off the heads of an awaiting rider. 

You know the saying, wear the hat, ride the cowboy. 

Well, that statement ran truer then true here. 

At first you had thought the phrase to be a running joke among the cowboys who sauntered up to your bar to run you a line while asking for a refill on their drinks. Though with the fair share of men you saw dragged out by the ever-eager buckle bunny through the bar doors right before last call you had come to learn it wasn’t just a phrase. 

“Can I get you anything else sugar?” You question as you sit the glass shots on the bar, flipping the liquor of her choice in your hand as you pour over each glass. 

The blonde perks up curling a strand of her platinum hair around her finger as she leans up against the bar as to tell you a secret, “actually I do have one more thing, do you know what he drinks?” she questions turning her gaze over her shoulder.  

Your eyes follow her movement, gaze falling on the broad-shouldered rider and his team laughing over their pints of beer you ran them earlier in the evening. You’re not surprised he’s what she’s after, he’s made quite the name for himself not only in the PBR but the thirsty barrel as well. You want to tell her to count her losses and find another cowboy, because that one just wasn’t available. You had sent many women his way and many had left his table tail tucked with no hat on their head, and one less drink in their hand. You know she was susceptible to the same fate as the many woman before her but that doesn’t stop you from pouring what you’ve come to learn is his favorite drink.  

Maybe she’d finally snatch the hat. 

Sliding her shots over along with the added glass you tap the bar, “here you are sugar - holler if you need anything else!” 

Her smile is wide, eager as she grabs her drinks from you, “thank you!” she calls over her shoulder. You linger in the area, watching as she struts her way through the crowded floor, determination in her stride as she zeros in on the bull rider and his team. 

She saddles up to the table cheerful and eager as most buckle bunnies are, the drink you’ve poured being held out to the man on everyone’s sights tonight. Your attention is short lived though as you’re pulled in by a tipsy patron asking for another round. You’re happy to oblige the pink cheeked man as you grab a chilled glass pouring the preferred choice on tap. You send him off with a sweet smile knowing he’ll saunter back with an empty glass before the hour is up. 

You chance a glance back over to his booth then expectant to see the girl saddling her way into the spot next to him, but instead your eyes catch on his awaiting Cerulean blues. There’s a smirk on his pink lips, the chilled glass you just ran in his hand, hat still on his head and not a single sign of the girl you sent his way. He brings the glass up tipping it your way before bringing it to his lips, eyes never leaving yours as he takes that first sip. You want to look away but find it hard, his gaze entrancing as he watches you. 

You’ve never been more thankful for the group that saunters up to your side of the bar than, their giggly group effectively breaking your gaze from his. It’s once again a short-lived moment as one of the girls who's gone pink at the cheeks asks if you can run three shots to the table just behind them, you don’t have to glance over to know what table they refer to. “Sure thing sweetheart we run drinks often to the riders, you’d like me to leave them with a message?” You question as you push their drinks out onto the bar, the one who’s gone bashful on you shakes her head, “no thank you just the drinks, and if I can get you one as well for the trouble?” 

You’re cooing at her as you thank her , “it’s really no trouble for us here at all honey, we’re always running out drinks to the riders but thank you! I’ll get these over to the them shortly.” 

Her group doesn’t linger as they grab their drinks going on their merry way back to the crowded open floor. You pour the three shots out, making sure to grab that extra glass just for you, you would definitely be needing this tonight. 

“Leaving the bar!” you get out as you swing out from behind the area, sliding your way past patrons careful not to spill the liquor in your hands. The crowd parts for you as you come up on their booth, Sam, Steve and Bucky sit spread out deep in conversation, “hiya boys,” you greet drawing their eyes, “got a special delivery for you all courtesy of the pretty ladies at the bar” you grin hand delivering the shots to each one.  

Sam and Steve thank you sweetly, “that’s awful sweet of you, thank you sweetheart and sorry for all the trouble were giving you tonight.” You wave the bearded blonde off, “s’no trouble at all Stevie, expected nothing less when it came to PBRs hottest.” You grin. 

“One of these for you?” Bucky questions having taken notice of the extra shot glass in your hand. Your gaze finds his beneath the brim of his hat, “sure is, courtesy of all the trouble you’ve been giving me,” you tease him, nearly melting under the panty dropping smile he throws at you “boss lets us all have at least one when we’re riding.” You add lifting up the shot glass tilting it towards them. 

Sam whistles low, “you taking on the bull tonight? You grin with a nod, “well I'll be damned, definitely going to be the thirsty barrels greatest show tonight.” 

Your cheeks warm, “it’ll be the greatest eight seconds of your life or money back guaranteed Wilson.” 

“Well here’s to y/n and to the greatest eight seconds!” Steve cheers bringing up his shot glass. The three of you follow suit, the liquor going down smoothly as you tip the shot glass back. Four shot glasses meet the table, a grin kissing your lips as you look over the booth of riders “well gentleman thank you for the company and the drink if you need anything else you know where to find me.” Knocking the table with your fists you turn on your heel intent on heading back to the bar but a hand wrapping around yours stops you from going farther. 

Your gaze follows the hand wrapped around your wrist “need something trouble?” you question. 

A smile pulls at his pink lips, his hand dropping from yours, his body slipping from the booth easily. He stands closing the distance between the two of you. You watch as the hand that held yours goes for the hat that everyone’s been chasing after. Your breath catches in your throat as he pulls it off, flipping it around before letting it fall over your head, his scent encasing you. Your speechless and you know he knows if that smirk is any indication. “For your ride tonight sweetheart.” 

You don’t know what comes over you, maybe it was the liquid courage from the shot you had just chased but the words are out before you can clamp your mouth shut. “You referring to the bull or yourself Barnes?” 

Seems you weren’t the only one who gained courage from the shot, “both,” he answers, “though I surely plan on giving you more than eight seconds sweetheart.”  Sam whistles, Steve claps the table, and Bucky waits for your response with a devilish grin. 

Your tongue runs along your inner cheek, “it’s a good thing I was looking for a ride – meet me after last call.”

[imagineweasley]

Puppy Love: Part II

Sirius Black x Fem reader

summary: you and your friends are fascinated by animagi and one day, decide to take a risk and become one. it proves to be an interesting experience - one day you are wandering the forest when things take a turn and secrets are revealed...

read part 1 here!

y/n: your name

y/h: your house

y/c: your color

submit a request!

author's note: a valentines' day present to my valentines! here's part 2 of puppy love :) also - THIS ONE GOT SO LONG TOO! this part is a big slow but i had to cut it off somewhere and i'll try to get part 3 out sooner. buckle in!

@hellokitty-girl666

-

Y/n's POV

My task was simple. During Herbology, I'd sneak over to where Professor Sprout kept the mandrakes and sneak three leaves. Somehow, I had to get them without the bloody things screaming at the top of their lungs, so my plan was to find three fresh leaves that they might have already dropped, or else I'd have to go to plan B. I did not want to go to plan B.

We'd scoured Advanced Potion-Making the night before, reading the steps over and over again so that we could commit them to memory. Callie had wanted to write it down but Ellie and I vetoed that idea; if we got caught, one look at the list would reveal what we were doing.

Under the list of items and instructions, there was an extensive list of disclaimers:

DO NOT ATTEMPT UNLESS OVER THE AGE OF 17. DO NOT ATTEMPT UNLESS AT/SUPERVISED BY A WITCH OR WIZARD WITH ADVANCED MASTERY OF POTIONS. IF STEP 3 FAILS, WITCH OR WIZARD MAY HAVE PERMANENT WHISKERS.

We ignored those, especially the whiskers part. The others had their own tasks, of course. Callie would be collecting the dew from somewhere "neither sun nor human feet have touched," and her best guess so far was to go to the Forbidden Forest to collect them. One of us would have to go with her, of course, there was no way we'd let her go in there alone. Ellie on the other hand, would have to get a chrysalis of a death-head's hawk moth. We were stumped because what the hell is that? After some research, we realized we would not be able to obtain it ourselves, and would have to find some underground tactics. I had no idea how she would pull it off, but if anyone could, it was Ellie.

It was the next morning now, and Callie and I were headed to Herbology. "You ready?" Callie whispered to me while we hugged our books to our chests and tramped to the greenhouse.

"Ready." I kept my eyes forward, not wanting to attract attention to us.

When we arrived at the green house, we found a spot on the far end of the green house, where the mandrakes were tucked into a corner to reduce the risk of a clumsy student falling into them and causing a chorus of brain-splitting shrieks. Callie tood right in front of me, stepping on my foot.

"Ow! Callie get off!"

"Sorry!" She whispered, panic creeping into her voice, "I'm just trying to make sure no one sees you!"

"Alright students, gather around!" Madame Pomfrey marched into the greenhouse and motioned for people to come closer, "I hope you all have good reflexes, as today, we'll be studying the Devil's Snare." There were a few "oooh"s as the students gathered around the small cut of the vine and Professor sprout bent over it. I, on the other hand, saw this as the chance to snatch some leaves and backed away from the group as discreetly as possible towards the sleeping mandrakes. I whipped around to the pots for my target, heart thumping. I scanned each pot for what I needed, but it looked like the mandrakes were perfectly in order. Damn. Of course they were in perfect shape, there was no way Sprout would ever let them - hold on. A flash of green caught my eye, tucked behind one of the mandrakes. I leaned carefully over as to not disturb it, and saw two leaves. Bingo!

Very slowly, I reached my fingertips in between the plants and managed to grab the them. I breathed a small sigh of relief, but it wasn't over yet - I still needed one more.

I looked over my shoulder to see if I had been spotted, but all I saw were students' backs and Callie shooting nervous glances back at me. I shot her a look that said Turn! Around! and she huffed but listened. Shaking my head, I turned my attention back to the plants in front of me. I searched in the dirt once more for one, JUST ONE more leaf, but there wasn't any. I even scanned the ground below the table, but no luck. Disappointed, I returned to the group.

"... usually grow so large that they can trap large humans, and they try to trick you with these lovely flowers..." Professor Sprout was holding up the pot to show everyone the budding white flowers. I tried to pay attention but all the possibilities of plan B were reeling endlessly in my brain. In my peripheral I could see Callie shooting me nervous glances but I ignored her and stared as hard as I could at the plant, wishing it could strangle my thoughts.

-

We huddled in the corner of the library for a rundown of our progress.

"Alright girls, how did it go today?" Ellie blew a strand of hair that had fallen into her eyes out of the way. I sighed.

"Only two." I mumbled, and she looked slightly disappointed but seemed to push it aside. "Okay! That's two more than we had this morning!"

"Yeah, but now I'll have to do plan B." I had really been hoping that it would be a one-and-done situation.

"Y/n, you've got this!" Ellie touched my arm encouragingly, "I would help, but I have to go find Jessup Daniels tonight. I've heard whispers that he has a gift for sneaking things into school for people for a price, things that no one should be able to get their hands on except for the most shadowy wizards. No one knows how he gets them, but I figure out of everyone, he'd know where to get those chrysalises."

Callie and I nodded in agreement. "He looks like he'd know how to get things like that." I said under my breath and the girls stifled giggles, earning some very pointed looks from the students around us. "Plus, I know that James Potter has an invisibility cloak on him," Ellie patted her bag indicating she already had it stowed away, "I heard them talking very loudly about it. Those boys aren't so subtle are they?" Ellie rolled her eyes. She had the most contact with those boys than us, being in Gryffindor house too, so it made sense that she had gotten her hands on something like that.

Sirius's face flashed across my mind at hearing James's name. For a second, I saw his dark gray eyes scrunch up with laughter, I felt his fingers against mine. I imagined just what would have happened if I had let my hand linger... what it might have lead to... what else his fingers could do....

"Y/n. Y/n!" I heard Ellie calling me and shook myself back to reality. "Do you need to use the cloak tonight? Maybe we can stagger when we go to do -" I shook my head. "The greenhouse is only a little bit that way and it'll be dark, no one will see me." Ellie nodded in agreement.

Callie surprised us by saying she'd already gotten her hands on her dewdrops. She merely shrugged, saying, "I have a lot of practice in 'borrowing' things and the Potions cabinet is a sitting duck, what can I say?" I nodded, impressed.

My watch caught my eye. 8:30.

"Alright girls," I made a motion to get up, "I should start heading out. It'll be dark and it looks like it's starting to sprinkle out there." Tiny raindrops were dotting the window next to us. Ellie and Callie followed suit and nodded seriously.

"Godspeed." Callie saluted me with mock seriousness.

I saluted her back, then quickly gathered my schoolbag that I had brought with me to stuff the leaf in. My nerves had suddenly turned to excitement - I had never done anything more than getting messy drunk at common room parties, maybe smoking a joint here and there and raiding the kitchen. I had been such a rule-follower my whole life - suddenly, I was excited to get my hands dirty. Hiking my bag higher, I quickly left the library, but maybe I shouldn't have been so fast. I never noticed the gray eyes watching me.

-

Sirius's POV

It hadn't even been a day since my run-in with y/n when I spotted her at the library. She and her friends - I think their names are Calliope and Eleanor? - were in a huddle, whispering furiously. I let my eyes linger on y/n as I made my way over to the only open table behind her armchair.

I plopped my bag down on the table, internally groaning. I never came to the library of course, I have better things to do with my time, but I had gotten into a small scuffle with James in Potions because he wouldn't leave me alone about y/n and gotten myself 10 points from Gryffindor and a foot and a half on the properties of belladonna. Huffing, I yanked out my parchment and quill when the words invisibility cloak and y/n's voice caught my ear.

I could barely hear what she was saying, but if I strained, I could hear her whispering, "The greenhouse... it'll be dark..."

The greenhouse? What could she possibly need to do in the greenhouse? Not only that, but in the dark? From my years of admiring her from afar, I knew that y/n isn't one to be sneaking around after hours. I kept straining my ears to catch more of the conversation without being too obvious, but all I could hear was Callie talking about some potion. Then, they all got up and I ducked my head, mind racing with ideas of what they could possibly be planning. Callie saluted y/n, and y/n started walking out of the library. I ducked behind a shelf to watch her leave, mind still racing about what she could be doing. I returned to my table and Ellie and Callie had gone too.

"What in the bloody hell..." I sat for a moment staring at my empty parchment, trying to focus my mind on this stupid paper, but gave up. I jumped to my feet, stuffed my belongings into my bag, and decided to go back to Gryffindor tower.

There was no way I'd be able to get y/n off my mind.

[lilgarbitch]

Will Thots👀

Pairing: Will Ramos x Reader

CW: He’s home, burnt to a crisp, exhausted, and just really needs to be near you. grinding, p in v (unprotected, don’t be them)

Author’s Note: Going off of last thot and everything Lorna Shore has been doing and posting lately, what’s Will like when he’s finally worn out? When he’s finally back home from touring and exploring?

Tags: @theanarchymuse95 @badomensgoodomens @xmads-omensx @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @thatchickwiththecamera @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @oobleoob

You always loved Will’s energy, always having the best time even if the two of you were just relaxing at home. But there were a few occasions where Will was just utterly exhausted and couldn’t be at full capacity, today being one of them.

The band just got home from playing in Hawaii and touring Australia and you were honestly surprised he didn’t get sun poisoning. Everyday, you watched his socials and all the pictures and videos he sent you of him exploring with his band and the others, having a blast. You were honestly jealous you couldn’t join him, until you caught sight of him when he stepped off the plane, the exhausted smile as he dragged his suitcase and own feet towards you. His lazy hug was like being wrapped in blankets that just got out of the dryer, and you were honestly worried he got too much sun with how he was still holding the heat in his skin, but he promised he was just a little burnt and that his Puerto Rican skin could handle it.

The ride home was full of mumbled stories of his trip, him slouched in the passenger seat as he told you all about the different sights he saw, the animals he met, and the shows he played. You joined in by telling him all about what the cats have been up to and how much they missed him, speaking in a soft voice since his wasn’t much louder.

When you finally arrived home, you helped him carry some things in, already seeing the effect of being home slow him down as his body finally began to relax. He greeted and snuggled with the cats as you made a late lunch for the two of you, just opting to eat on the couch, watching some tv and talking together. As you washed the dishes, he came up behind you and gave you another hug, telling you again just how much he missed you. You turned around and gave him a proper hug, both of you needing the comfort after 2 weeks of being apart.

“Can we just cuddle today?” he mumbled into your neck, holding you close to him, “I just wanna lay down with you.”

“Of course, baby,” you tell him in a sweet voice before he gently tugs you with him towards the bedroom.

He pulls you down onto the bed with him, tugging you close and burying his face back into your neck. One thing about Will is that he adored physical touch, especially cuddles. So if he was extra tired, he had to get as close to you as possible. Simply holding him was not enough. He’d tangle your legs together, wrapping one of your legs over his hip as he wrapped his around your other. He’d have his arms wrapped around your waist extra tight, forcing yours to go around his head as he muzzled into you.

Reader discretion is advised. MDNI

Depending on his exhaustion levels, he’d sometimes talk to you about anything and everything, but tonight, you figured he just wanted to hold you. That was until you felt his breathing pick up slightly.

“I just missed you so much, baby,” he softly groaned against your neck as he somehow pulled you even closer, squeezing you tighter.

And thats when you felt it. The growing hardness pressed against your thigh. You didn’t even get a chance to say anything before his hand slipped down to pull your leg closer and for him to start grinding against you, his thigh rubbing against your core in the process.

Weak grunts and groans muffled against your neck, mixing in with your quickened breath as he rocked his hips, rubbing his bulge against your upper thigh. You used your leg wrapped around his hip to hold him close and match his movements, needing more friction.

He huffs and starts lazily tugging at your bottoms, causing you two to work together to remove them before he unzips his jeans, pulling them down just enough to release his cock, pulling on and hooking your leg over his hip again, and slowly easing himself into you.

He returns to his earlier position, holding you tight with his face buried in your shoulder before slowly pulling out, then pushing back in. Languid thrusts matching each heavy breath in your ear.

Soon, he’s gripping the back of your shirt and your arms are pulling him even closer, one of your hands resting on the back of his head, gently tugging at his roots as soft whimpers and whines fill the room.

His hips pick up slightly, and you know he’s getting closer as he moans slurred words of pleasure into your neck. He angles his hips, causing him to brush against your clit with every thrust, helping pull you closer to the edge with him.

His movements get sloppier as he nears his climax, groaning and gripping you even tighter as he spills inside of you. He doesn’t stop his movements, pressing his lips to your neck and adding more pressure against your clit until you finally join him, letting out a whine and tightening your leg around him.

He places soft kisses against your neck and mumbles how much he loves you, waiting to move from the position you two were in because he just needed to stay as close to you as possible.

After cleaning up and changing into comfier clothes, you two keep your promise and continue to cuddle the rest of the night, occasionally getting up for snacks, but mainly just holding each other close and talking about whatever came to mind, wanting nothing more than to just be with each other.

[theherothesavior]

Joel Miller x AFAB reader

Warnings: alcohol, slapping (not from Joel), light angst, my shitty writing, not proofread.

Author’s Note: This is the first thing I’ve ever really posted in here for a character so please be kind. Feedback is always appreciated.

Word Count: ~3k

………………….…………………………………………………………

Three months in Jackson means nothing when your brain is still out there. Out where the ghosts of the past linger as pale memories of a life you never even got the chance to live. No graduating high school, no getting to enjoy college, hell, not even a normal relationship with someone where the worst thing that could happen would most likely have been a shitty break-up and not watching them get eaten by a faceless fungus monster. Every day in Jackson is a reminder of what you’ve lost, or rather, what was taken from you. This illusion of a normal community makes you sick as you walk down to the bar, the only real thing in this fake town that is worth being here.

Passing through the Tipsy Bison to one of the stools against the bar is the highlight of each night at this point. Jack, the surly bartender who’s a spitting image of Willie Nelson, pours you your regular and you thank him, tipping your head back to down it before nodding for another. Around the fourth drink, the familiar smell of campfire and saddle leather settles next to you.

“Rough day?” He grumbles softly, Jack giving him his usual drink as well.

“Not in the mood, Joel.” You huff back, completely uninterested in speaking with your housemate at this moment. He scoffs next to you and your jaw clenches in aggravation. “What?” You ask through clenched teeth.

“Nothin’... just wonderin’ what’s up your ass lately.” He whispers, head turning to face you. “You’ve been like this since we got back here and decided to stay.” You avoid looking at him, continuing to sip your drink, making him sigh and move forward. “Listen, darlin’... I don’t really care if you talk to me or not, but you’re upsetting Ellie. She thinks you’re pissed at her.”

“I’m not,” You answer simply.

“Yeah, I know that but she doesn’t… she even said you came home drunk the other night and said some stuff about wanting to go back out there.” His voice is eerily soft, making you finally look at him. Remorse bubbles up your throat, wishing you could take those words back from her. You swallow it down.

“It’s not because of her. She shouldn’t worry about it.” You finish your drink, a little tipsy at this point, but wave to Jack for another. The next one comes and goes in the blink of an eye, and the next…and the one after that. When you call for your eighth drink, thoroughly drunk at this point, Joel stops you from downing it.

“You’re done, darlin’. Let’s go home.” His tone, still as soft as earlier and it makes my chest ache, the usual rough timber of his voice, lowering to a volume only you can hear. You push the warm feeling of him away, wanting to drown it in the warmth of liquor instead.

“No. Leave me alone.” You say, reaching for the drink. He quickly downs it, keeping one arm on your waist as you lean too far off the stool, practically falling in his lap. “Asshole.” Your voice raises and he immediately rises, towering over you.

“Enough.” His voice, dangerously low as he glares down at you.

“I’m not a child, Joel.” You bite back, but the words slur from your tongue, falling between you two like fluff. “Then stop actin’ like one.” He says sternly, the commanding look on his face shooting straight down your body. Your knees grow weak and you can’t tell if it’s from him or the copious amount of alcohol from this evening.

“Don’t talk to me like that…” your voice barely above a whisper, no real power behind it. You push his hands off your hips and stumble out of the building, boots crunching as they meet the snow. The cold air whips across your cheek as you tilt your head back to face the sky, eyes closed, letting the snowflakes land in your lashes. For a moment, everything’s normal. The world didn’t end. You’re just standing drunk in the snow, enjoying the beauty of life, feeling as weightless and soft as the snow melting against your cheeks.

That doesn’t last long.

“Awe… are you drunk again?” A grating voice pulls you from your thoughts, from your moment of peace. You turn carefully and open your hazy eyes to see Mallory. The terrible woman who lives next door to you, Ellie, and Joel. The same irritating woman who is constantly trying to live in Joel’s pants. Her condescending smirk lingers on her face as you manage to answer, obviously drunk.

“Maybe. But at least I don’t look like you.” It makes no sense, but you’re too gone to care. She scoffs out a laugh. “Yeah, too bad for you, sweetie, ‘cause Joel seems to actually notice me.” You can’t help the giggle that crosses your lips before immediately answering, “Joel thinks you look like a 40-year-old busted Barbie doll.” Your voice, slurred, but the insult doesn’t go unheard by Mallory. “Said…. He said… he thinks all the plastic in your body is what keeps anything from biting you. S’how you survived this long.” You giggle more to yourself but Mallory moves quickly, way too fast for your drunken reflexes, slapping you across the face. You hold your cheek, the cold weather making the sting worse.

“What the hell!?” You exclaim.

“Stupid whore! You don’t get to speak to me that way! You think that just because you have Joel wrapped around your finger and shoved so deep down your throat, you can walk around this town like you can’t be touched. Well… you’ve never been more wrong. He’ll see. He’ll see just what a liar you really are.” With that final threat, she shoves you hard, causing you to fall on your back in the snow. Your drunken mind struggles to catch up to what just happened and how you’re suddenly parallel with the night sky, a searing pain traveling up your spine.

“Shit..shit..shit…” You roll on your back, the cold seeping through your coat reminding you of the large gash you’ve been hiding for a few days now. Mallory laughs at you, bitterly, as you writhe on the ground, unable to get up in your drunken state. Her laughter gets drowned out by the familiar sound of Joel’s voice coming closer.”

“Hey! What the fuck is going on here?” He comes stomping over, glaring at Mallory as she plasters a look of faux concern on her face.

“I don’t know, I think she fell because she’s drunk again. I was coming to help her up and take her home to you.” Her fake sweetness makes your teeth hurt just hearing it as Joel kneels next to you.

“Come on, darlin’.” One arm slips under your shoulders while his other hand holds yours helping you to your feet. “Easy.” He whispers in your ear, his hand sliding down your back making you hiss and recoil in pain, stumbling back at the quick motion and almost falling down. “What? What’s wrong?” His eyes soften as he searches your face, his chest tight with worry as he watches you draw away from him. You mumble something incoherently, and he can’t understand what you’re trying to say. Mallory attempts to say something to him, her words falling on deaf ears as he slowly and carefully brings you back home. “Come on, up to the bathroom.” His voice, sweet but stern in your ear as he helps you upstairs, guiding you to sit on the lid of the toilet.

“I’m gonna take this off, okay?” He tugs at your coat’s zipper with a soft nod, like he’s speaking to a toddler, waiting for you to nod back before actually taking it off. The chunky sound of your coat unzipping, mixed with your drunken breathing is the only sound in the room. Once it’s off, Joel puts your coat to the side before turning back to you. “Okay, I need you to turn around and straddle the seat for me.” His hands tenderly move to your elbows, helping to shift positions so he can get a full view of your back. You sit back down and giggle.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, a slight grin on his face.

“Straddle,” you giggle more. “It’s a funny word.” Joel huffs out a laugh behind you, shaking his head. “Alright, Giggles, I’m gonna lift your shirt to check your back now.”

“You’re not even going to buy me dinner before you undress me, Miller?” You joke and once again he grins when you can’t see, shaking his head. He doesn’t answer while he grabs the hem of your shirt and starts to carefully roll it up your back with his warm hands. Always so warm, even though it’s below 20 degrees out. His whole aura, the color of a diminishing fire. Not as bright as it once was, but still has the potential to burn bright again. Not in the same way, never in the same way, but warm nonetheless.

His hands move your shirt up and you hear his breath catch in his throat. “…sweet girl.” His words, laced with stress and pity as his fingers delicately stroke your bare skin. You shudder from his gentle touch and the cool air hitting your exposed flesh. “When the hell is this from? This doesn’t look new.” He asks, confused.

“S’not… from those raiders a couple of days ago.” You mumble, even in your drunken state you know he’s going to be pissed.

“2 weeks?!” He exclaims, stressed. “You had this for two weeks and it looks barely healed. Have you even been taking care of it? Or are you giving up on that too?” His hand moves and you hiss as your shirt grazes the irritated wound, making you just pull the shirt over your head leaving your top half completely bare.

“What do you mean given up on that too, Joel? What else have I given up on?” You manage to string the sentence together with enough sobriety to get your irritation across.

“Nothing… it means nothing.” His voice, withdrawn as he grabs the first aid kit from under the sink before turning the conversation back toward my back. “Why’d you hide this for two weeks? It looks like it’s a day away from infection.” He mumbles angrily finding an alcohol wipe from the box and running it over the wound making you grip the top of the toilet tank in pain. “Why didn’t you say anything about this?” He asks, a bit of frustration in his voice. You sigh in relief as he stops using the alcohol on your cut flesh, “...because I knew you’d freak out about it. You’d get all Joel about it and make me feel like shit.”

You answer quietly, each pass of bandage and cleaning solution on your skin, sobering you up slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, offended, his hands pausing against your spine.

“It means. Joel, that you tend to overreact over little things.”

“Little things?!” His voice raises, “This is a huge thing!” He yells, making you turn around on the top of the toilet seat to face him. “It’s a big cut, so what? It was fine until Mallory slapped me and shoved me onto the ground! You should be angry at her, not me.” You seethe, the alcohol making your bite not as strong as you want. “I’m angry at the both of you! Mallory is a bitter woman who is obsessed with the idea of me liking her, and I’ll deal with how she treats you tomorrow, but you,” he pauses, lowering his voice as he tries to calm himself down. Though his volume is quieter, his breathing is still heavy as he steadies himself to answer. “...you are a fuckin’ idiot for not telling me about something like that.”

You scoff, “I’m an idiot? You’re an asshole.” You stand up, “You already made me feel like shit about that altercation with those raiders. If I told you about the cut on top of that, you would have started a fight about me not going on patrols anymore.”

He laughs mirthlessly, “Damn right I would have. I didn’t want you going out there when we were out there!” The stress is evident in his voice as he steps closer.

“Okay, I’m drunk, so that makes zero sense.” You answer confused, unable to process his words at the moment. “You just like having control over what I do. You treat me like a child, like I don’t know what’s going on ever and that you’re the only one who gets a say in my life.” Your words are less slurred that earlier, but you’re still nowhere near sober enough to be having this conversation. “You act like you care, but you really don’t. You just want me around because you’re too scared to have your life change in anyway you can’t control. You see me as a burden to take care of, you think I can’t take care of myself and you don’t want me.” Half the things you’re saying aren’t true, you know he’s aware of your ability to protect yourself, but in this moment you just want to yell at him. You just want to make him feel something for you other than the indifference you believe he feels. Something. Anything that means he cares in the way you want him to, the way you’re too scared to admit to even yourself, let alone him.

His jaw clenches, suddenly aware of the state you’re in as you stand in front of him. His eyes drift to your completely exposes top half, lingering on your breasts for a moment before moving back up to your eyes, schooling his features. “Darlin’... if you believe all that, then you really are an idiot.” He says flatly, internally trying to calm the inner turmoil brewing within him. He wants to tell you everything. He wants to admit why he worries, why he’s so protective, why he gets aggravated when you don’t listen to him wanting to keep you safe. “Put your shirt on and go to bed. We’ll talk about this in the morning.” His voice leaves no room for argument, but you try anyway.

“There you go again! Telling me what to do, when I don’t want you to.” You turn, grabbing your shirt and pulling it over your head. “There’s only one reason I’d let you tell me what to do, but you don’t want that.” You mumble to yoursel, bitterly, not expecting him to hear all of what you said. When you turn, he’s stalking toward you, backing you up against the wall, his hand reaching to your waist to stop you right before your wounded spine hits the hard surface. He looks down, inches from your face, eyes almost black.

“You don’t tell me what I want. You don’t know what I do or don’t want.” His voice, at a dangerous level, his breath hot on your neck as he moves to whisper in your ear. “Now, you’re gonna be a good girl, go to bed, and we’ll talk about all of this in the morning.” You gasp at his firmness but you still go to protest. He leaves you no room for argument. “No. No arguments. All I want to hear is ‘Yes, Joel.’ and then go to bed.” He drops his gaze, looking at you to make sure you’re understanding him while waiting for your reply.

“Yes, Joel…” You answer with a small voice. He nods and moves to the side to let you pass by and exit the bathroom. You move slowly to your bedroom, still drunk and even more confused as you drop to your bed with a heavy sigh. As soon as your head hits your pillow, you’re out.

The stabbing pain in your head reminds you of the overconsumption of liquor you had the night beforehand. With your face smushed against your pillow, your fingers tighten around the sheets as the room spins around you. With a groan, your attempt to sit up is over powered by the drastic shift of your insides, a tidal wave of nausea filling up your stomach, weighing you down like a flood filling a once empty pool. As you manage to shift onto your back, the memories of last night play in your mind. Each moment more vivid than the last as they project themselves onto the ceiling above you.

“Fuck…” You mumble to yourself, the heels of your palms pushing against your eyes like a reset button you so desperately need to work, but knowing it won’t. After another five minutes of staring at the ceiling, you manage to sit up, closing your eyes until you gain your equilibrium once again. With an awkward stretch, a sharp pain shoots across your back, making you yelp like a wounded puppy, and ignore the nausea as you shoot out of bed and rush to the mirror attached to the back of your door. You twist your torso with a hiss, attempting to lift your shirt at the same time to see what’s causing the burning sensation on your back.

When you manage to lift the well-worn fabric, you’re met with a giant piece of gauze on your skin, stretching over your spine. With the sight, more of the night comes rushing back to you. You let your head fall back, eyes closed in regret and frustration before looking back into the mirror. Something on the nightstand catches your attention, a scrap of paper. Crossing the room, your chest tightens when you read the words.

We need to talk -Joel.

[einpressens]

Ok ok ok ok ok ok okokokokoklbhghxn jvxhidycungzhfzudutsutxmbcuhiginlbnj *ultrasound scream*

You don't understand how your answer made me feel. Like no words can describe. For me your reply was emotionally equal to meeting Steven King and Jesus in one person at 5 am at convince store, while I wear a custom shirt with Devil smooching it from "it". I very much glad that it happened but how. What the chances. I was literally going around my room in circles throwing around random objects because I couldn't calm down myself. I still can't stop smiling, even tho my face is hurting a little.

I don't even know how to describe it properly. I'm not a writter. It's just like, understand me, I'm very small artist. Like literally all my active followers in all of my social media combined can be counted using one hand. There's two at insta. There's one on twitter. And two mutuals on Tumblr. My art don't do well, and that understandable, I'm not drawing much, don't post often and don't chase trends even if I find them interesting. Just don't have much time right now.

And then a very cropped drawing of my wip that has 2 tags, it even doesn't have "my art" tag that I use to make search for my artworks on this blog easier. I didn't expected it to do better than any other. It's even miracle that it even was posted at all.

I long ago decided to post something at least onece a week. What to post didn't mattered, just something once a week, wip, sketch on napkin. Just post something to kill perfectionist in myself. And I kinda missed a lot of weeks and forgot about it. And then I go to a planer that I didn't Opened for more than a month and it Is time to post something to my socials. And there's yet nothing to post. Lineart was barely finished. So I move to next day. And then on next day I have this. And just post it without much care. Just quickly cropped out 90% of the work post it, and just continue working as if didn't happened at all.

I did such bare minimum for it and then it kinda blows up. It has almost 1000 views on twitter alone which is kinda crazy for me. Even if most of them prob scrolled past it without paying much attentio. They have seen it. And then author themselve noticed it. Noticed the work that was two (ok one, smpard did heavy lifting here ngl) tag away from being untraceable, you prob wouldn't have see it if I just tagged it as just wip like I first planned.

It feels like I'm in some cheese success story movie right now. Just look how my day went from my perspective. I posted my wip in the middle of the night in my timezone 'cuz I have unhealthy habit of monitoring notes for one hour after posting. I wake up and there's 18 notification in my Tumblr. They all but two are from my year old drawing, which is resurfaced a little. "Neat" say I to myself and go to college, don't touch social media the whole day and just reread your fic in a little bit of spare time that I have (which wasn't a lot today). Then came back open Tumblr and I blasted by notes, it's one of my most interacted with drawings of this half of year (which mostly as most number of my notes can be without problem be converted into a binary code which reads as "0"). And better of all I got one reply where in the tags a person was as unhinged about them as me. Of course I reply back cuz I'm overjoyed and then this person is actually author of the work for which I do my fan art. Like I probably should have expected you look for sampard fan art at least a little bit. But to find my artwork. And on Tumblr nonetheless.

Also you probably don't fully understand how much your fic mean to me. It was not only my first ever sampard fic it was the fic that hooked me on this ship. Your work is the reason I currently have 5 sampard wips and another 10 ideas written down. Before this fic I wasn't interested in this ship at all. The only reason I readed it was that I started to get overwhelmed by renheng and decided to read something easy, something I'm not so invested in. And then it consumed me even more that renheng. And now I'm here. Your fic fas so good that it me obsessed sampard shipper. And tbh before reading it I didn't like the ship. I always thought that it was kinda silly because they have 0 interactions in canon, so I thought there's wasn't a lot of chemistry between them and can't be. Well you proved me wrong. How much you proved me wrong. Thanks. Genuinely. I love how you characterize them not only together but individually, how you write intimate moment's between them. I wanna praise your work for hours I love it so much. But I kinda need to sleep right now so. You so so so good. Love your work.

I'm so happy that my silly wip of fan art made you feel the same way as your fic made feel me.

P. S. Sorry for long text and prob broking English in a couple of places it's isn't my native language.

P. P. S. Can you give me the name of your mane Tumblr blog so I could tag you when I post finished art. At first I planned to send you a link to fan art on my twitter into your AO3 dm's (?I don't AO3 much. Is it even have those), and still can if you prefer it.

P. P. P. S. Glad you did like hands position and emotions. It took a lot of time to figure out how to properly position them. Also about clothes, I like drawing genshin of star rail character without their overdesigned nightmare of clothings or simplifyed versions, so your fic descriptions were kinda perfect for me. Also I did a little bit of diversion from your description. I didn't touch Sampo's clothing for the most part. But I decided to make Gep's coat muted blue as blue one of main colors in his design and The scene was supposed to be dark so I need to make him stand out.

P. P. P. S. I wanna read next chapter very strong but I hope that you will take your time. As an artistic that once got burn out so much I couldn't forse myself to do any kind of drawing it's better to take relatively short break then burn out for long period of time. I don't know you and how much you need this advise. I hope you don't need it at all. It's just kinda was on the back of my mind and I decided to write it in p.p.p.p.s.

Colors are hRD but bois are Sotf

[wardensantoineandevka]

Midst is about a murder the exact same way that Disco Elysium and Pentiment are about a murder.

[daughterofhecata]

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