#@ my american followers let’s terrify the others

[captainhotch]

This Love | Roy Kent

note; random ted lasso imagine for the girlies who are in love with roy kent (me). not proof read as per usual

masterlist

There was no such thing as right person wrong time, you reminded yourself for the twentieth time in the past two months as you turned off your tv— absolutely tired of seeing your ex boyfriend blasted all over the football channels.

You had broken up about mid way threw his last season— well, he had broken up with you. You had been together for about a year and a half. A beautiful, really happy year and a half. Sure the man was an absolute grump, preferring more to groan than talk half the time, but he had the largest heart of any person you had ever met. His love was so pure and so kind.

The breakup was a bit of a blindside. He had been playing poorly, slowing down as a consequence of his age catching up. He was making mistakes. And Roy Kent did not make mistakes. So he did what only made sense to him in that moment and cut out all distractions. And you, well you were the biggest distraction of them all.

So you packed all of his things in a cardboard box and marched through the halls of the Richmond FC clubhouse, heals echoing across the lithium floor. Your head was high but your heart was in your stomach as you willed the tears to wait until you were safely back behind the tinted windows of your car.

You smiled at Higgins as you passed him outside of the locker room doors, receiving a sheepish wave back. You didn’t realize it at the time, but your smile paired with the dead look in your eye was absolutely terrifying. Next thing you knew you were dropping the box down on the floor in front of him, whipping your hair over your shoulder, and walking away with a sway of your hips that you know had his eyes glued to your admittedly amazing ass.

It was, of course, an act, cause there you were two months and a retirement later, heart still aching every time you saw the unfortunately handsome man across your screen.

Apparently Roy Kent did, in fact, make mistakes. Maybe not on the pitch, but literally everywhere else. Going home to a bed that didn’t have you in it? A mistake. Not having you by his side through the most difficult decision of his life? A mistake. Watching as you laughed along with Jamie’s flirting across the bar? A horrible, terrible fucking mistake.

Roy Kent was an angry man, but my god did he think he was going to explode in that moment. He wouldn’t be surprised if steam was comically coming out of his ears. He could only be brought to tear his eyes from you at the sound of the seat beside him being pulled out, and an insufferable American accent ordering a whiskey from the bar tender.

“You know Roy— you’re about as subtle as a hot pink convertible driving through a south Georgia suburb.” Ted nodded, eyes following Roy’s to you standing beside a smirking Jamie. “You know you breaking up with her hurt more than my own divorce.”

“Fuck off.” Roy muttered, throwing back the rest of his own whiskey.

“I’m serious man. Y’all two love each other— and no amount of pretending like your don’t will change that. That right there,” he paused, pointing to you—“that is a mighty fine woman. One who loves you. You don’t let something like that slip away if you can help it. Take it from me.”

You couldn’t help but to laugh at Jamie’s jokes. It was a good distraction from being in the same room as Roy for the first time since you had dropped off your stuff. Still you could feel him watching you without even glancing in his direction, like he’d never left. You had to be begged by Keeley to even show face, your dear friend insisting that everyone missed you loads. You had a feeling that she was just testing her theory of the two of you not being able to stay away from each other once you took away the distance.

The back of your neck burned, the same way it would when he’d kiss it in passing. Your stomach, once filled with butterflies, was now heavy with lead. You knew Jamie was only speaking with you to piss Roy off. You didn’t care. Or maybe you did, and that’s why you let it keep going.

You watched with confusion as Jamie’s eyes grew wide peering over your shoulder, “I’ve got to run now love.” He muttered, his thick accent mixed with both of your alcohol intake leaving you in confusion.

You could feel that burning feeling getting worse, palms slicking with nervous sweat. You turned around to to met with a wide chest clad in all black, tipping your head back your eyes danced over a familiar bearded chin up to a set of dark eyes that set you on fire. The familiar, gruff man grabbed your wrist, taking your drink and throwing it back himself before dragging you out to the porch.

Your feet were moving faster than your brain, still struggling to process if this was that recurring dirty dream you kept having, or a much more frightening reality. The cold nipping at your bare arms answered that one quickly— you were always on a beach in that dream.

Before you know it Roy had your back against the railing of a porch, body warmed from where it was trapped against his own. He brought his head down against yours, eyes screwed shut like he was in physical pain. You brought your hands against his chest, fists closed tightly around the material of his overpriced black suit jacket. He smelled familiar, like the cologne you had gotten him for his birthday.

“I’m such a fucking prick.” He muttered against your hair, bringing his hand to cradle the back of your head.

“Damn right.” You responded through a teary laugh against the side of his neck. “Proper fucking idiot you are.”

He let out a gruff laugh, hands coming up to cradle your face— pulling you back gently so he could look at you. His eyes were soft, that special look that he saved just for you painted across his face. You loved him so much that it physically hurt. Even after he took a knife and stabbed you in the chest.

Right person wrong time didn’t exist, because even through everything, Roy never stopped being your right person.

“I will spend every last day of my fucking life making this up to you. If you’ll have me back.” He muttered, eyes scanning your face with such sincere regret you might’ve fallen over if he wasn’t holding you up.

Maybe it was stupid to take him back, but you hadn’t realized until that very moment that Roy Kent owned a very large piece of you. And standing there in his arms, you had finally gotten it back.

#ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso one shot #roy kent #roy kent imagine #roy kent x reader #roy kent one shot #jamie tartt

[londonbelow]

American Honey

in which Harry is a single dad/rancher and our faceless/nameless female MC babysits for him while he goes on a date warnings: age gap (both parties are consenting adults over the age of 21), a hint of choking, unprotected sex, dirty talk, squirting, nothing too kinky... this is literal shit im sorry ily anyways

I didn’t know how I got roped into babysitting for the man I was completely in love with, but here I was, pulling into his long gravel driveway on a beautiful September day. If you asked me a few months ago how much I enjoyed children, I would have laughed in your face and told you that I didn’t enjoy them at all and that you couldn’t pay me to spend time with them. 

That was until I met Harry. 

My best friend Kelsey was his niece. She introduced me when she began to take horseback riding lessons on his ranch shortly after he moved back to town. He wanted to be closer to his family after his wife had passed away, so he packed up his life and moved back to his hometown. 

The first time I saw him, his strong body mounted on top of a large brown horse, my breath got caught in my throat and wouldn’t dislodge the entire time I watched him ride. That day, most days, he wore a ratty old t-shirt that clung to his muscles and a pair of dirty brown cowboy boots under his tight jeans. He traded off between a black cowboy hat and a backwards baseball cap, one that boasted some sports team I had no idea about. Tattoos littered his strong arms and I knew they spread across his torso as well from all the times I drooled over him as he did manual labor around his ranch. 

He had a six year old daughter named Maisy that looked just like him, one who worshipped the ground he walked on. She followed him around like a baby duckling, excitedly showing him things he couldn’t possibly care much about, but he always reacted in a way that told her he did. It was endearing, watching him smile brightly at a large spider his small daughter caught and decided to name Annabelle. He shivered and grimaced as soon as his back was turned to his child, never letting her know that her affinity for bugs grossed him out. 

He was an angel with her. So patient and kind and goofy. Watching them together made me ache for something that I didn’t know I even wanted—a family. I was far too young to be thinking that way, of course, but it didn’t stop my heart from compressing every time I watched him hoist her up onto her pony to go for a ride. 

He was all rough around the edges but a gentleman nonetheless. The first time he met me, he removed his hat and bowed his head a little and called me honey in his luxurious sounding accent. He’d been calling me by that ever since then, claiming it was because I was “sweet as”. He didn’t call anyone else that I knew at the ranch by any sort of nickname, not even the pretty brunette veterinarian who came to tend to the animals. 

He asked me if I was interested in riding lessons and I lied immediately and said yes, absolutely. I was terrified of horses, actually, but I would have done anything he asked of me, as long as I could stare at him while doing it.

He was around 20 years my senior, not that he looked it. He had little crinkles near his eyes and smile lines from years of laughter. His skin was tanned and freckled from the sun, his arm and thigh muscles bulging from all of the physical labor he did. I knew I had daddy issues, but I had never been attracted to an actual dad until Harry. 

I had spent the last two months taking riding lessons with him, keeping my crush as lowkey as I possibly could, although every time his hands brushed my hips or my leg when he was helping me on and off the horses, I felt like I could just melt. 

We grew comfortable with each other and there were times when I thought he may be flirting with me, but it never went anywhere. I started to think I was delusional, that there was no real tension between us like I thought there was. Especially when he asked me in the shyest of tones if I would babysit his daughter for him while he went on a date. 

So here I was, huffing and puffing in annoyance as I sat in the driveway of his home, angry with him for dating someone else and angry with myself for agreeing to babysit so he could. I felt like an idiot. I enjoyed hanging out with his kid because she was a little weirdo like I was at her age, but I didn’t enjoy knowing he’d be out with some lonely housewife throwing herself at him. 

I let out a loud whine as I banged my head against the steering wheel a couple of times, letting my theatrics empty from my body before I sat up straight and composed myself. 

“Get a grip, he wouldn’t touch you anyways. You’re 25 years old. He’s your best friend’s uncle. Of course he wants someone his age, you’re basically a fucking child in his eyes.” I muttered to myself as I reached over for my bag and lugged it out of the car with me. 

It was filled with things I thought Maisy might enjoy, like my black lipstick and some Halloween decorations I had packed away. The child lived for all things horror, she treated every day as if it was Halloween and nothing scared her. It was one of the reasons I completely adored her, despite never liking most children. 

I looked down at my outfit as I made my way to the front door. I didn’t know how late I’d be stuck here, so I dressed comfortably, in little black shorts and a loose crop top. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I reached up to press the doorbell when the door flung open. 

My breath got caught again at the sight of him. His cheeks flushed red as he looked at me, a slow smile tugging on his mouth as he reached out to grab hold of my arm. 

“Hi, thank god you’re here, I need your help.” Harry tugged me into the house quickly. 

His hand on my skin sent goosebumps all over me. He pulled me with him through the corridor and the kitchen, toward his large bedroom. I felt a thrill run through me at his urgency to get me in there, but it settled as I remembered quickly that he wasn’t dragging me there to ravage me like I wanted him to. 

My eyes took him in as he pulled me behind him. He had on his usual jeans and a t-shirt, his usually unruly curls set into a more tame hairstyle. He hadn’t shaved, which I was grateful for, but he smelled fresh and clean and looked like he might be sick at any moment. 

He pulled me to where he had three different outfits laid out on his bed, gesturing to them and then looking at me helplessly. 

“Mr. Styles, I—” 

“Harry, darlin’. I told you to call me Harry.” He corrected me, his hand sliding down my arm, making my stomach flip around, “Now… which one?” 

“Where are you taking her?” I asked, reaching out to touch the fabric on one pair of pants. 

“The Lodge?” He said, sounding as if he were unsure. 

I made a face, impressed with his expensive selection but annoyed that it was going to another woman. He took my reaction the wrong way, assuming that I thought it was a bad choice for a first date. He put his head in his hands and groaned loudly. 

“It’s too much, isn’t it?” He breathed out, “I should just cancel. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m not ready for this.” 

“Woah, hold on, I didn’t say that. It’s a nice restaurant. If you really like this girl…” I trailed off, swallowing hard over the lump in my throat. I looked down at the outfits he selected and smiled at his effort. I touched the edge of one of the more casual ones, “D-do you? Really like her?” 

“Well, I… like her. I don’t know if it’s worth a ‘really’ yet.” He smirked, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Wear this one. You’ll look great.” I pointed to the outfit. 

“Yeah?” He breathed out, moving closer to me so he could reach down to touch it as well, “You think?” 

His arm brushed against mine as we stood next to one another, looking down at my selection. I felt like I couldn’t breathe every time he touched me, even if it was accidental. I reached over and squeezed his arm, feeling my stomach clench up again when I did. This man did something feral to me. I wanted to get naked and display myself for the taking. I wanted him to take and take and take. 

“She’s a lucky lady.” I loosened my grip, letting my fingers brush down the length of his arm gently. 

He turned to look down at me, so close that I could feel his breathing against my forehead. He was much taller than I was, so much so that I had to crane my head back to look up at him. I saw his eyes slide down over my frame, so quickly and discreet that I almost missed it. He averted his gaze back to the clothes on the bed, nodding. 

“Thanks, honey. I should, uh… I should finish getting ready. Don’t want to be late, do I?” He reached up and scratched the back of his head, “Maisy’s in the living room watching the Addams Family again.” 

“Of course she is.” I laughed, moving to his door, “Hey, if she tells me you said it’s okay for her to watch Halloween, she’s lying right?” 

“She’s absolutely lying.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes with a smile, “Nothing above PG-13.” 

“She’s six years old.” I stated dryly, watching him smile brighter as he reached for the bottom of his shirt. 

“Try telling that to her.” He joked, peeling his t-shirt off right in front of me. I felt saliva gather in my mouth at the sight of his tattooed torso, his muscles flexing as he moved. 

I stood there like an idiot, just staring with my lips parted, feeling as if I might start drooling any second. He looked at me, an amused expression on his face, lifting his eyebrows. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asked. I reached up immediately and touched my mouth, forcing my lips closed and checking for drool at the same time. 

“Yep, sorry. I’ll give you some… privacy.” I cleared my throat, feeling my cheeks heat up as I forced myself to leave his room, yanking the door shut behind me. 

I leaned against it and sighed heavily, composing myself before I went out to the living room where Maisy lounged. 

“Hey scream queen, you watching the Addams Family again?” I plopped down onto the couch, looking over at her. 

She was spitting image of Harry. Really, if I hadn’t seen photos of her late mother I would think he cloned her to look exactly like him. She had the same soft brunette curls, the same green eyes that looked blue in certain light, the same pouty pink lips and the same little accent as him. The only difference was the streak of temporary purple dye in her hair, which I put in for her a week ago. 

“Yep! When daddy leaves, do you wanna watch Halloween?” She whispered the question to me, smiling slowly like the little evil thing she was. 

“I will not be held responsible for your nightmares tonight, little one.” I reached over and brushed her hair out of her face. 

“Please, please, please.” She begged, grabbing onto my face with her tiny hands, squishing my cheeks together, “I won’t tell him, I swear! You’re my favorite babysitter ever, nobody else is as fun as you are.” 

I narrowed my eyes at her buttering me up, “You are good.” 

“I know.” She giggled loudly as I began to tickle her sides, watching her fall back against the couch cushions and squeal with delight.  

I didn’t notice Harry walk over to the living room at first. He just stood there, silently, watching me tickle his daughter with a smile on his face. I stopped when I finally noticed him, wondering how long he had been watching us. He seemed perfectly content to stay right there, his eyes steady on me and his daughter. 

He lifted his eyebrows and pushed himself off the door frame when he realized I had noticed him. 

His cheeks went slightly pink, “Alright, girls. How do I look?” 

We both watched him as he did a slow spin, showing off his outfit. I felt my heartbeat quicken at the sight of him. He looked incredible—wearing tight black slacks with a matching button-up shirt under a suit jacket. He left a lot of the buttons undone, showing off his chest where his shiny crucifix necklace was teasing me. I could have gotten down on my knees right then to pray. 

His eyes darkened slightly when they took in my reaction to him, so much so that I swore he could read the arousal I felt all over my stupid face. I swallowed hard, averting my gaze from him as my cheeks went up in flames. 

“You look nice, daddy!” Maisy said, rushing over to him and into his arms. He picked her up into his arms and gave her a toss into the air that made my heart stop for a second, but he caught her with ease and she screamed happily. 

Harry grinned at her, leaning down to rub his nose across hers, giving her their special bunny kisses. It was the cutest thing I’d ever seen. 

“You smell good, too!” She said, wiggling out of his arms and back down to the ground, “Will Miss Casey smell you tonight?” 

I almost laughed, but the reminder that Harry was going on a date with the local kindergarten teacher—a beautiful 30-something year old who was fantastic with children—made my heart drop into my stomach.

“I’m sure she will at some point.” Harry said in a bashful tone, reaching up to nervously scratch the back of his head. 

Maisy called my name, running back over to me and grabbing my hand, dragging me to her father, “Smell daddy!” 

“Uh, Maisy, I don’t think…” I started, but Harry smiled and shook his head to stop me. 

“I’d actually like to hear if you think it’s too much. I don’t wear cologne very often, only on special occasions.” He said sheepishly, “Do you mind?” 

Special occasions, like the date he was about to go on. My heart made another leap into my stomach, making me frown. 

“No, I… I don’t mind.” I said breathlessly, forcing a smile and stepping closer to him. 

I placed my hand against his shoulder even though I didn’t have to and then I leaned in close to him. I shut my eyes as I inhaled his scent, trying to force the moan down my throat. It came out as a soft “mmm” instead. 

He smelled delicious. Just the perfect amount of spicy and sweet mixed in with his natural musky scent that was so familiar to me after all the time we’d spent together. I wanted to nuzzle my face into his neck and inhale it again but instead I forced myself back from him, nodding like a crazy person. 

“She’ll love it.” I said quietly, watching his soft eyes follow me as I stepped backwards, my hand reaching out to take Maisy’s, trying to anchor myself back down to earth. She squeezed my hand tightly once before letting it go and running back to her movie. 

“K, bye daddy!” She called out, once again glued to the TV screen as Wednesday Addams tortured her brother for fun. 

I walked Harry to the door, my eyes scanning over him as much as I could before he took notice. I wanted to tell him not to go, to stay here with us instead. I wanted him to see how badly I ached for him and to take me up on the offer. I knew the idea was a complete delusion, I knew that he could never see me that way, but I couldn’t help my fantasies. 

He turned to face me at the front door, tapping his fingers gently against the edge of it as we looked at one another. There was so much staring between us, it felt like longing. He’d drape his slow gaze over me, not saying a word, making me tingle all over. 

“Okay, um, call me if you need anything. I shouldn’t be out too late. You know her bedtime routine…” He trailed off, patting his pockets to ensure he had his phone and his wallet, “Are you… are you sure I shouldn’t cancel? Stay here with you and Maze and watch Halloween movies instead?” 

Yes. Cancel. Forget her and stay with me, please. Please. My throat felt like it was closing up at my thoughts, too scared to say them out loud. I shook my head to him, forcing a smile.

“You need to go. Put yourself out there. You deserve to be happy, Harry.” I said to him, reaching up and patting his shoulder. I let my hand linger there for a long moment, just rubbing him in what I hoped was a comforting manner and not creepy. 

He reached up and put his hand on top of my own, squeezing it gently as he looked at me in a way that I hadn’t seen before. I felt like I couldn’t breathe as he pulled my hand from his shoulder, his fingers tightening around my own just for a moment before he dropped it. I clenched it into a fist, desperate to hold onto the feeling of his skin on mine. 

“You are something else, honey.” He said quietly, shaking his head slightly, “Thanks again for watching Maze, you know how much she loves you.” 

“Anytime.” I murmured, smiling, “Have fun tonight. Call if you’re going to be late, okay?” 

He smiled and nodded, taking another long moment to look me over. He flipped his car keys in his hand and let out a loud sigh before he turned away from me for good. I watched him leave, waving from the door as he backed out of the driveway, heading off to the last place I wanted him to go. 

I sighed heavily and locked the door, heading back to Maisy, who was digging through my bag greedily, giggling in delight at every new treasure she found. 

“I see you found my bag of goodies.” I said to her with a grin. 

“Are these for me?!” She squealed and I laughed, nodding as she pulled out a big stuffed bat that I picked up from Target. 

“They are, you little sneak. You could have waited for me to give them to you myself.” I laughed as I sat down behind her. 

“So…” Maisy climbed up to my lap, smiling, “Halloween?” 

I sighed and smiled, “You can’t watch that movie, Maisy.” 

“I’ve already watched it!” She whined. 

“How about Casper instead?” I suggested. 

She made a face, offended, “That wimpy ghost?” 

I laughed loudly, breathing out a sigh, “Okay, fine. But you’re covering your eyes for the bad parts.” 

Maisy rushed off my lap, clapping her hands in delight and jumping up and down next to me, “Can we have popcorn too? Can I have juice? Can I have candy?” 

“You are an absolute terror.” I grabbed her shoulders to stop her from jumping, listening to her laughter. I scooped her up and carried her to the kitchen anyway, unable to say no to her. 

“How about we make my famous brownies? That way your dad has something sweet to eat when he gets home.” I suggested to her as she climbed up onto one of the bar stools, starting to pull out all of the ingredients I needed. 

“Daddy doesn't need sweets when you’re around, on a count of you being honey and all.” She asked me, kicking her feet out over and over again as her eyes carefully watched me. 

“Oh? Is that so?” I laughed, raising my eyebrows. 

“I heard him talkin’ to Mr. Davis about it!” She nodded confidently, smiling at me at her knowledge of her fathers private conversations. 

Mr. Davis was Harry’s closest friend and one of the ranch hands. They were always shit talking and shooting the breeze whenever they had free time. I had no idea that Harry mentioned me at all to him and I couldn’t help but probe Maisy for further information. 

“And what exactly did your daddy say to Mr. Davis?” I narrowed my eyes, pulling different ingredients out of the fridge and placing them on the countertop. 

“He said that he bets you taste just like honey, sweet as can be. He told Mr. Davis that he’d love to try it some time.” She squinted, “Do you have lots of bees at your house? Can I come see them?” 

I had to force my laughter down at her misunderstanding of what her daddy meant. I felt my face heat up at the confirmation that Harry thought about me in the same way that I thought about him. I had to press my hand against my chest to try and calm my breathing before I turned to face the little girl who was talking to me. 

“I do have lots of bees, but you better watch out, because they’ll sting you!” I turned and poked at her sides, tickling them and sending her on a laughter frenzy. 

“Now, back to business. We need a mixing bowl…” 

Maisy and I spent the rest of the night baking brownies and decorating them for her father. Then she ate way too many of them and passed out from a sugar crash about five minutes into Halloween. I carried her into her bedroom and tucked her in, starting to clean up the living room and the kitchen. 

It was still early when I finished up in the kitchen and I flicked the lights off, figuring I’d settle into the dark living room to finish watching Halloween by myself. I curled up onto the couch and shut all the lights off, stretching my body out.

I couldn’t stop thinking about what Maisy told me, her little innocent mind not even realizing that Harry was talking about going down on me. I wondered if she heard him right or if I’d make a fool of myself by making a move the next time I saw him. 

I must have dozed off thinking about it, because the next thing I knew, I heard Harry’s key in the door and listened as he quietly shut it behind him. His gentle footsteps made their way into the living room and I barely opened my eyes to look at him. 

He stood by the entryway, staring at me, his eyes roaming over my body carefully. My breath got caught when I realized he was checking me out. He took his time, drinking in the outline of my body in a greedy manner. He ran a hand through his hair and started toward me, looking more and more full of want as he got closer. 

My eyes fluttered open as he pulled a blanket off the couch, intending to cover me up with it and leave me. I wasn’t ready for him to leave, I wanted to spend more time with him, so I made it known that I was up. I reached over and touched his hip, watching him pull back to look down at my face. 

“Hey…” I said sleepily, stretching my body out, a quiet moan releasing from my throat. 

Harry swallowed harshly at the sound, shifting on his feet, “Hey, sweetheart. You must have dozed off.” 

“Yeah, sorry.” I sat up slowly, once again stretching my limbs out before I stood up from the couch, “How was your date?” 

We were standing insanely close to one another, so much so that my chest nearly brushed over his own. I leaned forward so that my breasts would touch him, just barely, and he didn’t move back from me like I thought he would. 

“Horrible.” He whispered, shaking his head.

“Oh no, I’m sorry. How about I make you a drink and you can tell me all about it?” I offered him, watching him smirk at me. 

“Are you even old enough to drink?” He teased me, to which I gave him a playful shove against his chest. 

“Very funny. I’m not that young.” I said to him sternly, raising my eyebrows, “I’m old enough to do a lot of things. Things you couldn’t possibly imagine.” 

I watched his eyebrows hitch high on his forehead at that and then I smirked at him. I turned and walked out of the living room with that, knowing that he was watching me go, his eyes steady on my ass as it jiggled into the kitchen. I went to his bar, which was a locked cabinet, getting up onto the tips of my toes to try and reach the key that he kept hidden high up. 

I knew my shirt was rising up as I reached, exposing the underside of my breasts, and I swore I heard a small groan from Harry as he watched me.

“Harry? Can you help me?” I said softly, turning to look at him over my shoulder as I continued to try and reach the key. I knew I had no chance of getting it, but I also wanted him closer to me.

He obliged like I hoped he would. He came up behind me, his body pressing against mine too closely for it to be a mistake or a casual thing. He raised his arm to take the key down and I turned my head to look at him as he did this. Our faces were so close, if I moved just a few inches forward, I could kiss him. He could kiss me. I silently willed him to do it, but he didn’t. 

He just watched me, his eyes more intense than I’d ever seen them. He studied my features, moving slow as he handed me the key. Our fingers brushed lightly as he passed it to me, his hand so warm against my own. 

“Thank you.” I whispered, watching his eyes fall to my lips as they formed the words. 

He cleared his throat and backed away from me slightly, but not enough that I wouldn’t bump into him when I bent over to dig around in the liquor cabinet. 

“So tell me… what went wrong on the date?” I asked, carefully turning to bend over, my ass brushing over the front of his pants just barely when I did. 

I swore I heard him let out a gasp, but he didn’t move back from me like I thought he would. He stayed exactly where he was, hips solid as I leaned back slightly on my heels to give him a little more pressure. 

He froze in place as I did this but he didn’t pull his hips back. He did the opposite. It was subtle, but he flexed his hips forward against my body, letting me feel how hard he was for a second before he pulled back again. 

I stood up, turning to look at him with a bottle of bourbon in my hands. I eyed him, keeping my back to him as he moved in closer to me, close enough for his hips to graze over my ass again, his chest touching my shoulder blades. 

“Honestly?” He whispered, moving even closer to me, one of his hands brushing up against my hip as he did. 

“Tell me.” I replied, my voice hoarse, strained from the close contact between us, which made me feel like I was on fire. 

Harry’s eyes flickered down over my face, taking me in, and he swallowed harshly before he confessed, “Couldn’t stop thinking about you all night, honey.” 

My heart was pounding harder than ever before, going wild in my chest. Did he actually just say those words or was I hallucinating? I watched them form on his lips but it still felt unreal. I blinked at him, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth to bite down and make sure I was awake. He reached up and touched my chin, tugging my lip back out. 

He cleared his throat and shook his head, “Not bourbon.” 

His eyes were dark, narrowed down toward me as if he were angry, but I knew he wasn’t. He was turned on. Ridiculously so. I also knew that he loved bourbon, so turning it down meant that he wanted me to bend back over and pick up a different bottle. I didn’t ask him which liquor he wanted instead, I simply bent at the hips again and pushed my ass back into him as I put the bourbon bottle back. 

His hips once again made contact with my ass cheeks, his hard cock pushing up against me in a desperate manner, his fingers digging into the skin of my hip. I pretended to poke around in the cabinet, letting him keep himself pressed to me much longer than the first time. I snagged a bottle of vodka and stood up, pulling myself away from him abruptly. 

“How about this?” I asked breathlessly, licking my lips slowly as I turned my head to meet his stare once again. 

“Not that.” He shook his head, his eyes falling down to my mouth for a long moment. His voice was strained when he spoke again, “Bend back over and try again for me, sweetheart.” 

This time, I smiled slowly at him before I turned away, bending at the hips and jutting my ass out as an offering for him. He did the same thing as before—let me back up against him, let my ass press into his crotch. He was subtle in his movements the first two times, but something came unhinged for him this time. 

Maybe it was the way my loose shirt slid up and exposed my breasts when I bent that time. Maybe it was the way I reached back and grabbed onto his thigh to steady myself on the way down. He lost all sense of self-control, both of his hands now grasping roughly onto my hips and yanking me hard against him. 

A low moan released from his throat as he pulled me into him until my back was pressed against his front, burying his face in my neck. His hands clawed up my sides, hips grinding into me slowly, sensually, like he wanted me to feel all of him. 

“Fuck,” He moaned, “This is wrong… so so wrong.” 

I whined, clinging onto the edge of the counter as he continued to grind himself against me, my cunt dripping with desire for him, “Don’t stop. Please…” 

He grabbed onto both of my arms then, pulling them behind my back and holding them there, bending me over the counter so my bare breasts and my face were pressed to the cool marble. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so fucking long.” He slid his free hand around my hips, finding the wet spot at the front of my shorts and pressing into it, “You’re soaking wet…” 

“Oh god!” I cried out when he rubbed a circle against my clit, sending a shockwave through me. 

“Shhh…” He ordered me, “Shh, baby. Be a good girl and stay quiet for me, okay? Can you do that?” 

I whimpered and nodded, willing to agree to anything if only he would touch me again. I wiggled my hips back, needing more contact from him, and he grasped onto my shorts, yanking them down to my ankles. He got onto his knees behind me and I shut my eyes with a soft moan as he palmed my thighs, prying them open so he could get a good look at my pussy. 

“Fuck, look at this pretty little cunt.” He breathed in the scent of my arousal, groaning in pleasure, “I need to taste you, honey. I need to…” 

“Please, Harry…” I gasped out just as his tongue slid up my slit slowly, lapping up all of my juices. 

He moaned again as his tongue went wild, slipping up and down my slit and licking up every drop before dipping inside of me, trying to get as much of my arousal as possible. I couldn’t believe how deeply he was tongue fucking me, the sounds of him slurping up every drop sent my eyes rolling into the back of my head. 

“More, more, give me more…” He groaned against my cunt, the vibrations sending a new flood of arousal through me that he lapped up immediately. 

I was shaking, still clinging to the countertop, my face warm now against the marble. I swore I was going to start drooling soon if he kept diving his tongue deep into me, the pleasure being nearly too much for me to handle. 

“You are everything I’ve dreamed of and more.” He murmured as pulled back, standing up to his full height so he could unbutton his pants, “You gonna take every inch of my cock, baby? You think you can handle that?” 

“Yes, yes… please…” I moaned out, nodding in hazy delusion. 

“Stay still, gonna start slow for ya, since you’re being so good for me.” He panted out, removing his cock from his pants but leaving all of his clothes on otherwise. 

I glanced down, seeing how swollen and drippy he was with precum, desperate to be touched. His cock was beautiful, it was thick and long with delicious looking veins protruding from the sides. He fisted himself carefully, dragging his hand up and down it a few times, precum squeezing out. I wanted to lick it up, wanted to taste every inch of him that I could. 

He lined his hips up behind me and positioned his cock between my slit, pressing against me. He rocked his hips back and forth carefully, letting my pussy coat him with my arousal, getting it slippery wet. The head of his cock bumped up against my clit with every thrust he made and I let out a nearly-silent cry at the teasing. 

He reached his hands around to slip them up against my breasts, his fingers pinching my nipples, making them harden at his touch. He buried his face in the back of my neck again, inhaling me, his lips trailing roughly across the sensitive skin there. 

He kissed along every inch of my neck, brushing my hair away from my skin so he could kiss more and more. He pulled me back against his body, his hand moving up over my chest and throat to grasp my chin, forcing my head to the side. I looked at him, craning my neck around as much as I could, offering him my mouth. He leaned in closer to me, our noses brushing, lips parting as we both panted heavily into each other's mouths. 

“I shouldn’t be doing this. You’re so fucking young.” He whispered, leaning his forehead against mine, still thrusting his cock up against my wet cunt but not entering me.

Both his hands went down to my hips, clinging to them tightly, his fingers digging into my skin as he tried to control himself. He was shaking as he pressed his cock against me over and over and I could see him unwinding for me.

“So then stop doing it.” I teased him, grinning wickedly. 

“Get over here.” He ordered me, pulling back so he could force me to turn around. His lips found mine right away, his tongue pressing into my mouth and flicking across mine. His large, calloused fingers took hold of my naked hips, shoving me up onto the counter and spreading my legs apart for him. 

“You want me to stop, baby?” He pulled back to whisper, his fingers slipping into my cunt, immediately stroking upward, making me feel things I’d never felt before in my life. 

“Oh fuck!” I cried out loudly, unable to keep it down. 

He slapped his hand over my mouth, keeping his face right in front of mine so I’d maintain eye contact with him. His fingers began to stroke me faster, harder, pressing into what I assumed was my g-spot. I’d never felt anything like it. My stomach rolled in the best way possible and my legs began to shake. My cunt clenched and gushed around his fingers, so wet for him that it was spreading all over my inner thighs the rougher he finger-fucked me. 

“There you go, that’s my girl… give it all to me, honey.” He murmured, tightening his fingers over my mouth when I moaned behind them, “Shh, come for me, come all over me, I want every fucking drop.” 

He began to finger me harder, faster, his fingers jerking up and down instead of in and out and I felt something explode inside of me. My orgasm hit hard, making me cry out from behind Harry’s hand, and he replaced it with his mouth, swallowing up all of my moans and curses. 

A warm liquid gushed out of my cunt and shot all over Harry’s torso as I came hard. That had never happened before. I pulled back from the kiss and looked in a panic to see his reaction, expecting him to be as confused as I was, but he looked overjoyed by it. His mouth found mine again, tongue excitedly taking control of my own. 

He kept his hand firmly inside of me, his thumb brushing through my public hair down to my clit, rubbing it in slow circles. He moaned into my mouth, his free arm going around my waist to tug me to the edge of the counter. 

“I want you to come like that all over my cock.” He murmured against my lips, kissing me desperately again as he removed his fingers from my pussy. 

He brought his wet hand up to our mouths, pulling back from kissing me so he could offer me his fingers. I sucked my arousal off of them, wiggling my hips down lower so my cunt was on full display for him. I spread my legs as far as I could, wanting him to have all of me. 

“Desperate little thing, aren’t you?” He whispered, to which I nodded, pulling off his fingers with a soft pop. 

“Been waiting for you to notice me.” I whispered back, “Took you long enough…” 

Harry sighed against my lips, shaking his head as he smiled slowly, “Crazy, crazy girl. I’ve been obsessed with you since the day I laid eyes on you.” 

“Really?” I whined out, watching him nod, licking his lips and leaning down to kiss me again. 

“Shh now, pretty. Need to be inside you so bad. Gotta be quiet for me.” He whispered, waiting for me to nod at him in confirmation before he pressed forward. 

I felt the swollen head of his cock pressing up against my cunt, begging for entrance. I rolled my head back, exposing my throat to him as he pushed slowly into me, filling me completely. My cunt stretched to accommodate his size and I gasped out at the slight sting of pain I felt as he kept pushing and pushing inside of me. His cock was big, but I had also only been with one guy before who was below average in size.

“God, fuck,” He gasped as he filled me to the hilt, holding still as he reached a hand up to brush my hair back, “You okay, angel? Hmm?” 

“S’full…” I mumbled, my mouth finding his, kissing him deliriously, “Feels so good… need more.” 

“Yeah? You want more? You wanna feel me so deep inside of you, stretching you out?” He murmured against my mouth, tongue slipping out to tease along my upper lip. I gasped when he pulled back, rolling his hips forward into me hard, “I know it feels so fuckin’ good. Look how you take my cock like the perfect fuck toy you are.” 

He grabbed onto my face, squeezing it as he made me look down between our bodies at the way his cock slid in and out of me, shiny with my arousal. We looked back up at each other in unison and I slid my arms over his shoulders, fisting a hand into his hair. I pulled his mouth back to mine and kissed him deeply, only pulling back to gasp for air or moan his name. 

“Made for me, you’re fuckin’ made for me…” He whispered against my lips as he thrust deeper and deeper into me. When he wasn’t kissing me, he’d slide his large hand over my mouth to keep me quiet. 

“This is mine now.” He ordered me as he slipped his hand between our bodies, fingers finding my clit so he could rub quick circles against it, “Tell me, tell me your pussy belongs to me now.” 

I moaned at his hushed tones, at the strain in his voice as he tried desperately to keep his voice down so we didn’t wake his daughter. He laid kisses down my jaw and to my neck, sucking at the spot right by my ear that sent goosebumps all over my skin. 

“It’s yours, I’m yours. Fuck, don’t stop.” I gasped out, clinging to him harder, digging my nails into his back, “You feel so good, I’m gonna… fuck!” 

He began to pound into me, fingers gripping my thighs so tight that I knew I’d have bruises there the next day. I didn’t care. I wanted him to mark me all over, to claim me as his own, to leave me with reminders of what we did in this dark kitchen. 

Harry grabbed my face in  one hand, squeezing my cheeks hard as my lips fell open in ecstasy. He slid his tongue against my own, coaxing it out, licking across every crevice of my mouth in a sloppy manner. I felt consumed by him in every sense of the word, felt completely claimed in a way I hadn’t expected to feel. I knew I’d never get over this, never be able to go back to fucking guys my own age after experiencing him. 

“Good girl… wanna feel your cunt squeezing me, milking every drop outta me. That’s it, baby. You feel like heaven, oh god.” He gasped, his lips brushing mine with every word, “So fuckin’ hungry for my cock…” 

“Harry… Harry, Harry, Harry…” I moaned out as he reached down to grasp the back of my thighs, shoving my legs up until my knees pressed into my torso, bending me in ways that I knew would leave me sore. 

His eyes fell down to watch his cock pound into me, his breath quickening at the sight, “So fucking wet, baby… god. I’m gonna come, do I need to pull out?” 

I shook my head wildly, whimpering at the intense feeling building up in my abdomen, “On the p-pill. Fuck, Harry! Need you to fill me up. Please, please, come inside me.” 

My legs went over his shoulders as he grabbed me by the throat, applying the slightest of pressure as he tugged my mouth to his own, kissing me deeply. 

He stopped kissing me and I let my eyes flutter open, finding his dark green ones staring back at me. He looked so intense, so full of desire, it made me shiver all over. 

“Look at me, sweet girl. God, you’re beautiful. Don’t look away… right there, baby.” He nodded his head and then his mouth fell open, a moan releasing from him that tipped me over the edge. 

I kept my eyes on his own blown out ones as I came around his cock, my cunt clenching over and over with each wave that hit me. I gushed all over him and he moaned louder at the feeling of it. I clung to him desperately, digging my nails into his back as I pushed my hips forward, trying to ride out my orgasm as long as I could. I never looked away as I watched him come, his cheeks flushed and lips shiny with my spit. 

He moaned my name as he came hard, his body shaking and trembling against my own. I slid my fingers into his sweaty hair, watching the way he came undone. He kept eye contact with me the whole time, drinking me in, like he couldn’t get enough.

Harry kissed me, his tongue moving over mine sensually, his fingers releasing their harsh grip into my skin. His breaths came hard against my cheek as we kissed, but he didn’t pull back to catch it until he had kissed me as long as he could. His hold went from rough to gentle, arms slipping around my back, his fingers a whisper against my spine. We stayed like that for a long time, with him nestled inside of me, our breathing and heartbeats both slowing back to normal. 

“Let me clean you up.” He whispered, slowly pulling out of me, rubbing his hands over my thighs when I dropped them down. 

I felt like jello, like I would melt into the countertops if he didn’t hold onto me tight. He massaged my thighs for a long moment before he reached over for some napkins, using them to clean all of his cum off of the both of us. I watched him bend over to pick up my shorts and underwear, which were left forgotten on the kitchen floor. 

He pressed kisses to my ankles and calves as he carefully slid my shorts back on, waiting for me to lift my hips so he could pull them all the way up. I was grateful for the help as I knew as soon as I stood on both legs, I’d be wobbling all over the place. 

Harry pressed his hands to the counter on either side of my body, leaning forward until his face was inches from mine. His eyes were dark, his gorgeous mouth so close to my own that I could feel his warm breath as he let out a long sigh. 

I thought maybe this would be the moment he tells me that this shouldn’t have happened, that this couldn’t continue, that he was too old or I was too young and we were both stupid with lust. I braced myself like I would for a punch. 

But he didn’t say that. He leaned in and he kissed me passionately, lifting his hands to cup my face between them. He brushed my hair back and then pulled my lips from his, his eyes finding mine right away. 

“The next time I ask you if I should cancel a date,” Harry smiled slowly, lips brushing over mine, “Say yes.” 

#harry styles smut #hs smut #harry styles oneshot #harry styles smut oneshot #londonbelow #Harry styles X reader

[reticent-writer]

Blood demon art: Plants P1, P2, P3, P4, P5, P6, P7(current)

Poll results: Follow Akaza (Are you ready)

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You took off running towards Akaza crying.

"Akaza wait, please wait I wanna go Home. I'm sorry I never run away again." You wailed as your skin started to burn.

You were fast but not fast enough to catch up to Akaza, luckily he heard you.

He turned around and ran to you, he was just about to pick you up when a sword went through his chest. He ignored it, grabbed you and ran.

Hanafuda was shouting. You didn't want to look back because you know you'll see Rengoku's body.

You just cried into Akaza's chest. That's all you could do. You cried until you fell asleep.

Akaza was livid not because of you, in fact he was glad you decided to come back, but because of Hanafuda. He had no other choice but to run, the sun was coming up, couldn't he see that?

"It's alright, I'm not mad at you." He said as he rubbed you back and continued on his way to the infinity castle. He knew you were asleep but it still felt good to say.

------

You woke up in your room, on your bed surrounded by a multitude of pillows. Everything was the same as when you left it, at first glance at least.

Slowly you got up and looked around.

It was like you were in another dream, nothing seemed real yet. Even though you didn't have much time with Rengoku he taught you a lot. He was the first human death that you experienced.

Walking around your room, you notice yourself in the mirror. You looked the same, but something was clearly different, you couldn't put your finger on it.

*knock knock knock*

"I know your up Y/n." Your father said as he opened the door. (A/n Why do parents knock if they're going to open the door without permission anyway)

"Father. I'm so so sorry. I'll never run away again, I promise." You ran to hug his legs but he didn't hug back.

"Y/n look at me."

Doing what he said you look up at him with tears forming in your eyes. He kneeled to your height.

"You cannot put yourself in harms way like that. I don't care what you wanted to see when you could've died. You will be by my side until further notice. Do you understand?"

You nodded.

"Good."

"Father, you were human once, why do you want to kill them?"

He didn't answer your question and instead, he gestured for you to follow. Which you did.

On the way to wherever you were going, he talked.

"You can die just by standing out in the sun. Humans are weak, they get sick, grow old, and die they barely live for century while we can live forever. I get that you're curious, but we are not completely immortal. YOU are not immortal; as my child, your safety is my top priority."

You stared at his back while he talked. It was normal for you to receive this kind of lecture from him.

Normally you would tune him in out of annoyance but this time you listened or at least until you caught something out of the corner of your eye.

Looking over you see a blonde blur getting bigger. You almost didn't realize that it was getting closer to you.

Your father sighed, "Douma don't-"

"Y/N-SAN YOU'RE BACK." Douma smushed you in his arms, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head.

"Hi Douma" you say, hugging him back.

He picked you up and twirled you around while your father pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

These demons were going to be the death of him.

-------

Akaza was on his way out when he saw you, douma and Muzan. Muzan had not yet given him a punishment for letting you get injured. It left the basketball demon waiting in anticipation.

He was terrified.

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Tag list: @american-idiot21, @unhappy-filling, @lenasvoid, @abbylouamanda, @tempest1art, @abandonedhhearts, @muichirolover

Might or might not do an AU where reader stays with demon slayers

#male reader #female reader #gn reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #child reader #x child reader #demon slayer x child reader #kny x child reader #demon reader #reticent writes #reticent writer

[supernatural-dreamer]

The Unnatural and Unexpected (Embry Call x Black! Reader)

A/N: Hey you guys! Guess who’s back..back again! I had a few ideas in my head and want to put it out there..I thought about turning this into a series and expanding it further. Leave a comment if I should … as always like, comment and follow… let me know what you think!

This is set during Eclipse around newborn battle. This is tailored for a African American/Black female reader specifically, however all are welcome to read..

~Lauren

—

Part 2

Masterlist

—

Imagine being Embry’s imprint and tagging along with the wolves to their newborn training session. However, you’re always in for an unexpected surprise when you’re around Bella..

People had a lot of different opinions when it came to you. There was one trait, everyone seemed to agree that you possessed:

You were a skeptic. 

Hell, you didn’t even really believe in the Easter bunny or Santa Claus when you were a kid. Magic? Please. Vampires and wolves, no such thing. 

You should’ve known when your family moved to a sleepy ass town straight out of a mystery novel you would be wrong. Dead ass wrong. When the new girl, Bella, befriended you, normal flew out of the window the same time she did last year.     

She dragged you to La Push after the Cullen’s had left the prior year. It was there you were introduced to Jacob, Quil and Embry. You instantly took a liking to La Push, the boys -and particularly Embry. Unexpectedly, they took a liking to you too. 

From then on, you found yourself gravitating more towards the reservation; the tranquil beaches reminding you of your previous Floridan home. You just felt a connection there that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

She also dragged you to Jacob’s house after HE stopped talking to her. 

It was at this point you honestly had to question what this girl was doing to cause people to run away from her like the plague. I mean it wasn’t just a few, but groups of people seemed to just up and cut off ties with her, seemingly overnight

However, after quickly realizing her propensity for sticking her nose in places she probably shouldn’t, it started to make a little more sense. Though, you would be lying if you said that you weren't a tiny bit curious as to what exactly she stumbled upon. 

A group of people that could secretly shift into giant wolves was not at all  on that list of possibilities. 

You being an imprint to one of those shifters? Never even dreamed about it. 

Although, you weren't too upset at the unexpected revelation this time.

She dragged you to the Cullen’s when they returned a few months ago. Outside of Bella’s tales of her interactions with them, you didn’t really hang around or know much about them. You had a few of the members in your class and one of them as a science lab partner a few months back. They were slightly off and distant at first but after you got to a place of polite conversation, you chalked it up to just shyness. When you found out they were vampires, naturally, you didn’t believe her– until you found out about the wolves.

 Suddenly, their isolation and behavior made sense. After that, you never really looked at them the same.

Knowing both vampires and shifters even existed in itself was a shock.  Learning about their sheer abilities was slightly terrifying. You’d be lying if you said being around them didn’t make you feel a little more..vulnerable. Although Bella felt differently, you didn’t like that if things went left for whatever reason, you could be snapped into two with zero hesitation. The only way you could gain any control over this is by immersing yourself into the world of the supernatural at your pace. 

It is why when Embry told you you were his imprint, as much as you liked him, you still kept a little distance. Him and the pack understood- never pushing you past your comfort level. Although Emily, and the other imprints at times, playing referee before things ever got out of control, have a major hand in that you suspect.

Since you lived in Forks, Embry and the pack were away during the day, unless you came to the reservation. You were the only outsider, aside from Bella, that knew both of their secrets. So when she fucked around and found out with Victoria and a newborn broke into your house–you found yourself spending more time at the Cullen's house. Or more accurately, dragged there.

The first few times, it was a little awkward. But after a few visits, they actually started warming up to you and vice versa. Alice gossiped with you from day one–asking you questions about your hair and even complimenting your appearance. You shot the breeze with Emmett about sports. Hell, even Rosalie had warmed up to you a little, much to yours and Bella’s shock. By your third visit, they cooked you dinner.

You had to admit a three hundred-something year old vampire making a pasta dinner from an old ass cookbook was a pretty amusing site. They were actually pretty damn good cooks too.

Embry and the pack were not happy about this, but he knew better than to try and tell you what to do. With all of the newborn activity, there was only so much he could do. He took some solace with the fact others were looking out for you when he was not around. It would be a cold day in hell before he let his pride keep you from being safe--even if it meant dealing with his sworn enemies. Besides, the more comfortable you had gotten around the Cullen's, the closer you got to him and the pack: A bonus in his eyes.

 Regardless of your apprehensions, nothing could be solved if you buried your head in the sand and pretended none of this existed. Whether you liked it or not, yours and Bella’s fates were intertwined. At the very least, you figured you could keep an eye on her to make sure she didn’t get herself, others or you into deeper trouble --or worse. 

When she asked you to go with her to the field and watch them train, you obliged. Hopping from the backseat of Edward’s volvo, you slammed the door shut behind you. Bella emerged from the passenger side shortly after and fell into step next to you. You parked yourself on the sidelines of the clearing, far enough away from the action, but close enough to see and hear what was going on.

Not too long after, the shifters, in all their glory, emerged from the trees. Two of them split off from the group and headed toward you and Bella. The slightly smaller, slender one sniffed and circled around you.

“I’m fine, Embry.” You affirmed, chuckling softly. He nuzzled his snout into your palm, and let you scratch behind his ears before running off to join the others, Jacob in tow behind him. All you could do was hold your breath and hope they could play nice for a few hours, as Carlisle stepped up and took his place in front of the pack, Edward slightly behind him.

~

To your amazement, it actually went way better than anticipated. You actually chuckled a few times when Emmett pummeled Edward several times and Alice had gotten the upper hand on Rosalie. Even Carlisle had a few tricks up his sleeve. For a centuries old vampire, he had some moves.

Everything was just about to wrap up, when you saw a few of the wolves perking their heads up in alert. When the Cullen’s stopped mid-stride, turning their heads into the clearing, you started to grow concerned. Embry was next to you in an instant, staring at the clearing, slightly growling.. You were about to ask what was going on when Edward finally spoke.

“The pack has heard something in the woods and Sam is asking if we could assist them. I let them know that we will and will be right behind them. In the meantime, we need to get Bella and YN out of here.” He translates, heading toward Bella. As if on cue, the pack  disappears into the woods, Embry the last one behind. Edward looks at him.

“Esme, Jasper and myself will take Bella and YN back to the house. You are more than welcome to stop by there after the coast is clear. She will be safe.” You can hear him snarl slightly beside you, until you console him. 

“I will be okay. I’ll see you after,” you assure him, patting his head for good measure. Somewhat satisfied at your response, he starts off toward the trees.. Embry turns around, takes one last look at you and the Cullen’s now beside you, then disappears into the clearing. It was as if he was saying,  “Take care of her or, I’m coming after you next..”

You didn’t have to be Edward to know that. 

Once the rest of the coven had taken off with Embry, Esme wasted no time directing her sons.

“We need to split them up in case someone decides to tail us. Edward and I are going to take Bella the long way back to the house. You take YN back as fast as you can. We will trail you until about halfway, then diverge into a different direction.” Before you could protest, Edward was already shutting the door to his passenger seat, Bella already inside.

“You’ll be back before you know it. We’ll be right behind you.” She squeezes your hand in reassurance.

Jasper then looks at you for a second, and your rising anxiety dampers for a bit. You chalked it up to his abilities, before he instructed you.

“It will be easier and faster if I can carry you. Keep your eyes closed, count backwards from 100, and hold onto me as tight as you can. Don’t worry about hurting me. Trust me on this one.” He gently touched your arm in comfort, goosebumps left behind in the wake of his touch. 

Japer Whitlock was a man of few words, but when he spoke it was hard not to listen. For whatever reason, you actually believed him. 

As soon as you were in his arms, Jasper was off. Esme, Bella and Edward were right on your tail before they approached a fork in the road, just as Esme said, and veered off into another direction.

~

Bella might have been oblivious to many things but this was not one of them. As soon as Edward got into the car, she questioned him. The green trees surrounding them turning into blurs as they whizzed passed them.

“What was that all about?” Her significant other remains silent as he speeds up slightly, trying to keep Esme’s pace. 

“He looked at her, the way you did with me when we first met..” She trails off in realization. 

“You don’t think..”

“As unorthodox as it sounds, yes. That’s exactly what it is. Alice didn’t even see this coming.” He sighs, stunning her into silence. 

Edward knew exactly how you felt about the life of the supernatural. If he’s being honest, he wants the same type of normalcy for Bella, despite her desires otherwise. He has seen many things in his afterlife that he did not want her to have to go through, if he could help that. It was very rare that he did not know something due to his mind reading abilities or general knowledge.

Yet, the reasoning as to how a shifter’s imprint could also be a blood singer eluded him entirely.

For the second time these past few years, Edward was at a loss. He did not think it was possible. Even Carlisle has never seen something like this in his extensive afterlife.

He is even more at a loss as to how Jasper will break this to you. The one thing that is clear is the more he keeps it a secret, the more danger he’ll put you in. Although he loved his brother, you became his good friend. He hated too see anyone he cared about in unnecessary danger. So, he gave Jasper an ultimatum: he tells you or someone else will.

This was unexpected and unnatural even, but it was the truth nonetheless.

For a human that wanted little to do with the supernatural, you were now going to be at the center of it.

The bitter irony, he thought as he continued dashing through the trees in the seemingly endless forest. 

—

#twilight #twilight saga #twilight imagines #twilight imagine #twilight x reader #the twilight saga imagine #the twilight saga imagines #twilight wolf pack imagine #twilight wolf pack imagines #twilight wolf pack x reader #embry call x reader #embry call x black!reader #embry call x black reader #black reader #twilight x y/n #twilight x poc reader #twilight x black reader #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen imagines #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper hale x black reader #jasper hale x reader

[sophswritingthings]

OK AS A HISTORY NERD NOW IM INTRIGUED ON MORE OF YOUR THOUGHTS FOR MIZU X !PERFORMER READER

pairing: mizu x fem!street performer!reader

warning(s): none

a/n: allowing me to indulge in my history fixation while writing gay fanfic? oh babe LET ME TELL YOU—

summary: after meeting the mysterious street performer, mizu follows you back to the theater. which, has a library. you spend your time together, what little you have of it, taking and learning about one another’s culture.

word count: 577 words / 3,227 characters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you lead mizu back to a nearby theater, greeting other secret performers as you walk in. they eye you a bit suspiciously, seeing who is following you. but no words are exchanged.

you take mizu back to a library; walls cascading with books up and down.

she’d never seen anything like it.. such a large library filled with colorful books of english, and, supposedly—american history. and there had to be something on japan, too, because you seemed to know things about her culture well.

“so, why have you traveled from japan, exactly?” you pose the question, grabbing a candle and beginning to riffle through piles of literature. 

she wasn’t telling you she was here to assassinante a man. you’d think her terrifying. heartless. ruthless. cold.

to which, to some extent, she was.

“I’m.. here, visiting family,” she whispered. wasn’t exactly wrong.

you chuckled, “the white man you mentioned? your father?” you whip around to look at her for a moment.

“yes,” she responds rather quickly. “I haven’t met him, before.”

you nod, “japan closed its borders—deported all the white men and women there,” you respond. “it makes sense you’ve never met him. are you.. judged, in some way?”

she scoffed, “I’m sure you have no idea,” she folded her arms. “I am what they call an onryō. a demon.”

your eyes widen, gazing at her as you walked over with a stack of books you looked to be struggling to carry.

“demon?” you murmur, watching as she takes some of the books from your arms. “just for being born of a white man?”

she nods, “yes.” she narrowed her eyes, “it’s not exactly fun.”

you scoff, “I didn’t think it would be—constantly having a bounty of your back for your dead body,” you settle down at a desk, smiling and patting the seat beside you.

she sits down beside you, gazing at the many books.

“well—here in england, those eyes are considered beautiful,” you smiled softly at her. “I think they’re beautiful.”

she’d never heard such kind words before. especially about a part of herself she hated so very much.

“thank you,” she whispered, her voice barley audible.

you chuckled, your cheeks tinted rosy red, “though I suppose I am one for all things weird.”

she laughed along with you, “how so?”

“as I told you—a woman such as myself is not allowed to do much. I am expected to marry at sixteen, settle down with many kids, and never leave my house. I cannot work, I cannot do anything here,” your eyes narrowed, gazing at the book below you, “I just want to perform. to act—it’s my passion. It’s something I love.”

she nodded slowly, “I see,” she muttered. “It’s much different in japan. women can work.. though it’s not like they have many options. and.. performing. It’s one of the many things women do in japan.”

“I know!” you hissed, “performing should not be something that is restricted to men. nothing should be restricted to me; we should all be… equal.”

mizu couldn’t help but agree with you. she felt the same way; seeing as she was here, masking as a man her whole life to be able to do what she wanted.

you talked for hours on end. hours on hours of talking about your culture, about your lives, about what you’d been through. 

you were so similar; yet from completely different parts of this world.

she found that amazing.

she found you amazing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: I’m presenting said project tomorrow and my anxiety said no

#mizu x you #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu #blue eyed samurai #x reader #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #ask #asked and answered #request #fic request

[femmeanonymelives]

Steven Grant x Vampire!Reader Headcanon

This is NSFW. 18+ stuff y'all. Minors please find something family-friendly. Warning: This is contains a vampire. Blood/gore, sexual content, public sexual content, and Steven being a horny over a Vampire.

Note from Ari: This is my very first time in years trying to write smut. I was inspired by the many AI Steven bots. The Vampire!Steven one by @melodygatesauthor helped out a lot, and the many, many Boyfriend erotic audios on Quinn.

He meets you at a library that is open 24 hours a day.

You stand there in the history section, wearing a dark colored leather trench coat and floral dress. Your skin is pale, but still appears human. The rest of your appearance is almost human-like.

Steven is shy when approaching you. 

Women like you terrify him. 

Marc and Jake tell him to go for it. If he doesn’t they will.

He approaches you with a shy hello. You turn him to say hi.

He asks what is your favorite period in history.

You tell him during the Victorian era and give your explanation why.

Mostly because you were a baby vampire during that time, but you didn’t tell him that.

You gave the normal history buff shepile.

You are worried that he might think you are a freak.

He doesn’t.

Two of you share dinner at a local late-night diner. 

You kept staring at his neck. Looking at the veins. Wondering what would happen if you sink your fangs in.

No. He is a nice guy. A human. He is actually normal

Steven asks why your eyes went dark and bloodshot.

You leave him in the diner and run to a nearby alley.

He follows you. He sees your fangs.

“It is not what it looks like.”

“You are a vampire.”

“I am not going to hurt you.”

He moves up closer to you, touching your face. “How old are you?”

“I am 23 years old, but I have been that age since 1850.” Steven isn’t frightened of you; he is worried. 

Marc and Jake are freaking out. “You need to leave her now.” “She is not worth the hassle. She will kill us.”

Steven kisses you instead and you kiss him back. Marc and Jake freaking out wondering what the hell is wrong with Steven.

His tender touches make you feel like you are human again.

You are with your back against the wall. Your lips against his neck as your fangs pierced in his neck.

He groans loudly, but not in pain; in pleasure.

You start drinking his blood as you feel him press his erection against you; trying to get himself some sort of relief.

You pull yourself off his neck. He stares in complete lust as he stares at your blood-stained lips and chin.

He takes you back to his place.

His flat is scattered with books. Mostly from Egyptian history and journals. 

You started to really fall for him.

You both take off each others’ clothes. 

You trace the bite mark on his neck with your finger. He tells you he liked being bit by you.

You straddle his hips as you start to ride him.

His flat fills with skin slapping against skin, moans from the both of you. 

He begs for you to bite him when you come as he starts pounding his cock deeper and deeper inside you. 

You tell him no. You didn’t want to lose control.

He whimpers to you that he will tell you to let go of him.

You bite into his neck as you cum.

Steven whimpers and moans loudly as you bite into him again. 

His arms wrap around you tightly as he can keep you close to you. 

Grinding your hips into his as you ride out your orgasm.

His thrusts become deeper and sloppier as he whimpers out that he is close.

You pull your mouth from him as he marks your neck and breasts with love bites.

He cums inside you and hard.

You bite your wrist and give him your blood so his neck wound can heal.

He pulls out and gets a washcloth to clean you up.

You ask if he is okay as you trace over the scar on his neck where you bite him earlier.

He responds that he is okay.

You notice his accent is more American, not British.

“Steven? You okay?”

“I am not Steven.. My name is Marc, and we need to talk.”

#steven grant fanfic #steven grant x reader #steven grant smut #moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfic #vampire!reader #moon knight smut

[multifunctionalnitroglycerin]

Poe’s Annabel Lee in TLT #1

“Annabel Lee” is the last poem E. A. Poe composed, and arguably one of his most famous ones. It is in many ways, typical of one would consider a Poe poem, featuring thematics such as the death of a beautiful young woman, love, and grief. Thematics and subjects that are ever-present in the tlt book series, and I will do my best to dissect in this post.

With a superficial read of the books, most would garner the rather obvious parallel between John Gaius and Alecto on the one hand, and the hero of the poem and Annabel Lee, on the other. John himself is not particularly mindful or discreet of the analogy he himself creates. And he has no need to, seeing as he is the only one that remembers the world from before. And I think it is terribly beautiful and utterly devastating, in a poetic irony sort of way, that a comparison so obvious as this, a hallmark of American poetry would go completely unnoticed in the new world that John has built in his image, for he is the only one who truly knows, the only one who remembers.

Another more subtle parallel, I feel could be drawn between Gideon and Harrow, and the poem’s heroes. Though, I must admit it is perhaps a bit of a stretch. I might make another post abt that. But for now, let’s dive in the magical world of Annabel Lee, and dissect the poem, bit by bit.

For all our literature geeks out there, I will just point out that the poem is a narrative poem, and it uses a few different rhyme schemes, and meters, with both anapests and iambs being present (Shout out to all the lovely people who are familiar with iambic fifteen-syllable lines and have been haunted by them).

I will now start with a general feeling of the poem before jumping into the details. From the start, Annabel Lee feels like a fairytale, with a hopeful start that alludes to the fairytale opening of Once upon a time… However, as the poem progresses this hopeful emotion slowly devolves to something eerie, ominous, and desperate. Something dark, cynical, and terrifying. And this is where we will draw our first parallel.

The Earth is dying. That much we can garner. There is however a man, that loves her more than anything else. That desperately, with his clumsy, human, imperfect, selfish way wants to save her. And thus, she bestows him with a gift, hoping that he would indeed help. It does make for a nice fairytale start of the story does it not? Unfortunately, however, this is not how it evolves, for John inevitably fails to do what he has been tasked with, despite all his love for her. And he kills her. She is now trapped in a human-like body of John’s design, a body that in its design is proof he could not escape the industrialism he so loathed, and she feels like a monstrosity. And the story only gets worse from then on, with her inevitable banishment in the Tomb for what seems to be an eternal sleep at the behest of John’s Lyctors.

Both takes I feel follow the same pattern of emotional development, regarding both their content of the text and the emotional rollercoaster they inspire in the reader.  

It was many and many a year ago

In a kingdom by the sea

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

by the name of Annabel Lee

10.000 years ago, to be precise, in a water-filled planet called Earth. See that fairytale tone? Also, I would like to point out once more, that saltwater references. Salt water, the sea, Θάλασσα as a source of life and energy is a strong thematic that repeats itself multiple times in Muir’s books, and this is no exception. And the fact that Earth is a planet with a lot of saltwater, and in this instance serve both the kingdom and the personification of the maiden is an apt usage of the theme. Moreover, in these introductory lines, we are immediately presented with what will be the central figure of the poem, Annabel Lee, an alleged maiden. A noun that alludes to a young, beautiful woman. (Alecto is arguably in the form that John gives her, also a beautiful woman, despite the Lyctors finding her monstrous. I am of the opinion that what unsettled them was that Alecto was both too bizarre, too other, too immense to be fully understood and contained within so plain a physical vessel, and way too human to be clearly marked as different and other. One look at John’s creation and they would immediately see that alien strange cavalier, and their closest friends in her quirks and mannerisms, all at once.)

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

than to love and be loved by me

I was a child and she was a child

In this Kingdom by the Sea

I need not point out I feel the thematic of an impossibly powerful love that is introduced in these lines, the desperate love that John harbored for his dying home planet, and the equally desperate love Alecto harbors for the man she thought would save her. Even when he betrays her, one of the things she says to John immediately after he confines her in the human form is I love you. (“What else...” “I love you”, “…You said that too.”) And of course, the notion that they were both “children”, inexperienced with little idea of what they were doing in their despair– most certainly not untrue. A line that heavily points to one of Pyrrha’s most iconic lines in Nona the Ninth “We were children - playing in the reflections of stars in a pool of water... Thinking it was space.” And they were children in comparison to what they are now. Inexperienced and stumbling through their first steps in the chaos that love is.

But we loved with a love that was more than love— 

I and my Annabel Lee;

With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven  

Coveted her and me.

Now these lines tie a bit more loosely to tlt. The love that these children so to speak harbor is not any less real because of their youth and inexperience. On the contrary the aftereffects of Alecto’s and John’s love are very much real and rather disastrous for the solar system. And such love, apparently inspired jealously. In the poem in the usually benign and protective guardians that angels are, and in the books, in the Lyctors. And I think that it is at this point that the thematics might or might not deviate from the books. Because one might say, that the Lyctors, that I feel are in these lines represented by the angelical figures, could not possibly be jealous of Alecto, and her relationship with John, could they? They find her monstrous and wrong, a hindrance, so what could they be jealous about? A lot of things, I believe. For we do see in the books the extends of the affections that John harbors for Alecto, even though his little man not responsible for the consequences of his actions, behavior. In the beginning John explains everything to Alecto through his eyes, takes her everywhere, and does not part with her. He harbors this love and kinship for his strange cavalier, or the soul of the Earth that chose him to save her, that it seems to overshadow even the depth of emotion he feels for his Lyctors. For he cares for and loves Augustine and Mercy and Gideon and Cassiopeia, Ulesses and Titania, but I feel that the love he has for them is but a speck in the ocean of the emotional turmoil that Alecto inspires in him. So they cover them for a love they themselves cannot feel.

               And what would you do, how would you feel, if the man you gave everything up for, the man you uprooted your life for, the man you condemned the planet and the billions of lives on it for, barely had eyes for you? If despite all you had done for him and all you did on a daily basis to keep this impossible empire intact, all he ever did was parade his monstrous, weird, wrong, guard dog around? And no matter what you did you could never get rid of her, for she was everywhere, and she was his, and he never could care for you as his friend, as a companion, an advisor, a pillar of the empire, his hand and gesture and manifestation of his will with nearly as much love and devotion he showed her? What if you felt that she was a distraction keeping him from building the empire he was meant to build?  

And this was the reason that, long ago,    In this kingdom by the sea,  A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling    My beautiful Annabel Lee;  So that her highborn kinsman came     And bore her away from me,  To shut her up in a sepulchre    In this kingdom by the sea.   The angels, not half so happy in heaven,    Went envying her and me— Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,   In this kingdom by the sea)  That the wind came out of the cloud by night,    Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

Given my ramble above I will not expand anymore on how the Lyctors would see Alecto at least as a hindrance to the empire, and at most would loathe her, for despite never having sacrificed as much as they had – in their eyes at least - she had John’s attention, devotion, respect and -frankly obsessive- love. What follows now, is an abrupt change of tone (gone are the fairytale notions) and an allusion to the Tomb, even though we know that John himself put her in there and not the other Lyctors. But we also know that the other Lyctors were on a surface level, the driving force of that decision. He sealed her away to appease them. And at least in John’s little man mentality he could insist that it was for them and their insistence that he sealed her away. And he feels the loss of Alecto, his Annabel Lee. Furthermore, Annabel Lee has been chilled, and while the interpretation in the poem can be a bit vague, we know that Alecto is held in a freezing ice coffin practically. Frozen in time in the subzero temperatures of the Ninth.

 But our love it was stronger by far than the love  

Of those who were older than we—  

Of many far wiser than we—

And neither the angels in heaven above, 

 Nor the demons down under the sea,

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul 

 Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:

Lyctorhood ala John. Binding your soul to the soul of a planet, to the soul of Earth. It doesn’t get any stronger and up and personal than that. A love and bond that is stronger than all he knows I don’t think there is much of anything anyone can do to sever Alecto’s connection from John. It is presented as one of the big issues in the book. How to kill God when he has bound his life force to a bloody planet, who seems to be rather murderous on the best of days. I quite look forward to seeing how that moves forward. For the hero of our poem, don’t know about John I must admit, seems to be certain nothing can tear their souls apart from each other.

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams 

 Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes  

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride, 

 In her sepulchre there by the sea, 

 In her tomb by the sounding sea.

The first two lines are pretty familiar, aren’t they? They should be because they are featured in the books. And they point that our hero meets Annabel Lee in his dreams. Aka the whole premise of Nona the Ninth, where Nona dreams of Alecto’s memories. As for the second set of lines, it seems to be an allusion to both John’s original bright  golden eyes and the bottomless black pits of Alecto’s in which the stars never rise. As for the next line, my presumptive butt would like to take it as a bit of a foreshadowing. And a symbol. Yes, it does bring to mind John’s ascension in a sense with the lying on the ground theme, but the imagery here is much more serene, peaceful. So, I would like to believe it alludes to the end, where John will finally find peace and will lie besides Alecto for what could be their final rest. I do not remember if he lay beside her every night before, so correct me if I am wrong. But I would find it awfully poetic for them to do that as they set off Resurrection Vol2 or they reverse what they have done. And the last lines again allude to the Tomb and the sea. So, a random crazy idea is that they would both lie together in the Tomb and reset everything. And that the Tomb, their place of final rest or not, will be surrounded by water, so I have this crazy imagery that perhaps the Tomb containing Alecto’s and John’s lifeforce will be the center, the core, of the new planet that would resemble earth. And thus, an ocean shall rise surrounding the two, and they will eternally lay beside each other in the depths of a planet surrounded by saltwater.

All in all, both stories are stories of love in its all-consuming nature, that can be romantic and all encompassing, or take a darker turn and become obsessive and destructive. Of Love that can transcend the mortal realm and alter the laws of the world as we know it, inspiring dark feelings in what should be benevolent characters. And still that love transcends the obstacles that are set, for better or worse. Is it really as beautiful as it appears? The stories also are stories of grief and loss that defines the one that gets left behind, grief that attaches itself to the person and doesn’t let go, overpowering sense and sensibility. That becomes the past present and future of our hero. That has no outlet and suffocates its bearer. (We have seen John’s darker days, where he is drunk and barely functional.)

Okay it is probably way too late, and I am way too tired, but it makes sense in my head. Next part of this one we will be analyzing possible comparisons between this lovely poem and Gideon and Harrow’s relationship.  

Take care of yourselves.

#the locked tomb #tlt #tlt series #tlt spoilers #alecto the first #alecto the ninth #alecto tlt #john gaius #nona the ninth spoilers #harrow the ninth #tlt fandom #tlt theories #Annabel lee #poetry #literary parallels #literary analysis #John is Poe and A.L is Alecto #Can it be more obvious #tlt fan theory

[gryfflepuffinthetardis]

Sweet Jane Part One — Campbell Bain x Reader

Summary: Y/n was admitted to Saint Jude's hospital in Glasglow soon after her eighteenth birthday when she developed a case of psychogenic/traumatic mutism; there she meets a talkative, optimistic, idealistic, hyperactive nineteen-year-old boy with Manic depression who dreams of becoming a DJ, follow them through their story and learn what happened to Y/n.

Series Warnings: Past Toxic Relationship, Manipulative Ex, Mentions of Past Rape, Mental Health, Discrimination against the Mentally Ill/Neroudivergent, Traumatized Reader, Abusive Parents, Mentions of deceased family members, Stalking, Suicide, Reader doesn't handle men touching her well, Mentions of Sex, Bad Caretakers, Implied Non-Scottish Reader, Implied Short Reader, Campbell Bain's Dad is Terrible

Chapter Warnings: Reader refuses to speak; Loving Campbell Bain, Traumatized Reader, Selectively Mute Reader, PTSD Reader, Psychogenic Mute Reader, Traumatic Mute Reader, Manic Depressant Campbell Bain, Bipolar Campbell Bain, Schizophrenic Furgus, OCD Rosalie, Reader Developed Selective Mutism as a Coping Mechanism, Reader may have an intense type of anxiety caused by trauma, Reader is implied to not be Scottish or at least from Scotland (I am American but just add where you're from), Reader is implied to be shorter than the six-foot Campbell Bain

“You are a mystery to me, yet so familiar. Like a song I’ve never heard before, and a tune I’ve known my entire life.”

Y/N hadn't spoken a word since she was eighteen and long before that something had changed. Her parents finally decided enough was enough and sent her to Saint Jude's hospital in Glasgow.

Campbell had literally crashed into the new girl during his excitement at hearing that the Saint Jude's radio station would be reopened.

The girl screamed as he collided with her and she started screaming and kicking due to his body weight on her.

"Sorry. Sorry. Sorry." He said, hurriedly, getting off of her and holding a hand out to help her up but she just stared at him, terrified, "I'm sorry. Uh..." He realized he didn't recognize her, as far as he knew he was the youngest patient at Saint Jude's and this girl was around his age. This was exciting! "Are you new? I'm Campbell Bain, I'll be the bane of your life until one of us is discharged." He chortled at his own joke before he realized she was still of the floor, "Oh, let me help you up." He crouched down and took her hand, helped her up.

She stared at him with a confused look on her face but she didn't pull her hand away yet more out of shock than anything. Campbell offered her a smile before she ripped her hand out of his grip and ran off, leaving Campbell very confused.

He asked the nurses about the girl but none would give him proper answers, until he got to Stuart the orderlie, who should've been a patient instead but... you know, life.

"She's a looney." He said, blankly.

"Ai, yes. Yes. Yes. I know that much but what's her name? What's her deal?" Campbell prodded.

"Y/N." Was all he said.

--

A few days later, Eddie McKenna arrived to be the DJ for Saint Jude's, with assumption that he'd be able to tell the difference between the staff and the patients.

He had an interaction with Stuart and assumed he was a patient but found out that he was a nursing assistant. Well, that couldn't be good.

Then he met Campbell, who seemed perfectly friendly and nice before realizing he was a patient himself.

Campbell and Y/N were on better terms, now that she had stopped bolting on the other direction when he tried to talk to her. And they listened to Eddie's show as Y/N read Narnia.

Soon after the show, Eddie heard Campbell playing and singing, Summertime Blues on his guitar which was only slightly out of tune, which Eddie had played on his show. He saw Y/N correcting Campbell's finger placement on the guitar as he whined that it hurt his hand.

Campbell enthusiastically praised Eddie and explained on his poor timing and the patient’s dependence of television.

Y/N caught sight of something moving outside the window and she threw a guitar pick at Campbell, making him pout in her direction before seeing her pointing and they ran to window as he said, “Hang on, you’re not boring me or that, but I’ve just seen a friend of mine flying past the window.”

Y/N and Campbell leaned out the window to see the hospital’s Schizophrenic who despite the schtick his disorder stereotyped him as he was just the most gentle soul you’d ever meet, if a little eccentric, grappling down the side of the building.

“Fergus! What’re you doing!?” Campbell shouted after him as Eddie joined them, “you’re gonna hurt yourself!”

“Shall I get a nurse?” Eddie asked and Y/N shook her head.

“Fergus! You’re gonna miss your cocoa, you know!”

“I know.” Fergus told him.

“Can Y/N and I have it, then?” He asked.

“Help yourselves.” He told them.

“He’s escaping.” Eddie said, surprised how calm both of them were being so calm about this

“He’ll be knocking on the door in an hour or so. He always does.” Campbell reassured Eddie, “annoys the hell out of the staff but makes this one smile.” He nodded at Y/N as she sat on Campbell’s bed with his guitar, the look of fascination in Campbell's eyes was not lost on Eddie.

Campbell returned to his enthusiastic and impulsive idea-planning, the first being to bring up a story when a student nurse accidently gave everyone in the ward a laxative, making Eddie and Y/N look at him oddly and the only problem he saw with it was where he’d get that many laxatives.

“What about a request show?” He asked Eddie.

“I already thought of that. I haven’t enough records.” Eddie shot down that idea… well, he’s never disagreed with Campbell Bain before.

“So?”

“So? When folk request something, they usually like to be able to play it.”

“We just make them keep requesting until they hit something we actually have.” Campbell said, “‘if you can guess a record that we actually have in our library, then we will play it for you with a special dedication’.” He did a playful punch in the air, “who could resist?”

“It’ll never work.”

Y/N who had been playing with Campbell’s guitar, then played a jingly tune.

“You’re right, Y/N!” He declared, enthusiastically with an enthusiastic pointed finger at her and then he ran his hand through his light auburn-brown floppy hair, “We’ll need some jingles.” Y/N looked up when Campbell sang a jingle, “Hospital radio, Saint Juuuuude’s.” He smiled at Eddie, “that sort of thing.”

“You need singers to record jingles.”

Campbell picked up his guitar from Y/N and sat next to her, “and what exactly is sitting here before you?”

“A lunatic!” Eddie declared, making Y/N softly giggle.

“Aye, a singing lunatic!” Campbell agreed, enthusiastically. “We could record them in the station, aye?”

“Aye…” Eddie submitted.

“Brilliant!” Campbell exclaimed, going back to Eddie, “Now give me the key.” He held out his hand.

“What key?” Eddie asked.

“To the station.” Campbell said and ran to the door, looking out, “look, I’ve gotta start. Writing the jingles, rehearsing the singers, cataloging the albums.”

Eddie looked at Y/N as she looked back down and realized he hadn’t gotten her name, having been distracted Campbell’s… Campbell-ness and Fergus escaping. “Uh, ma’am… what’s your name again?” Eddie asked, making Y/N look up from a piece of paper she was now writing on, she gave him with a blank deadpan look at being called “ma’am”. She was only eighteen.

“That’s Y/N.” Campbell said.

“What’s your favorite album?” Nothing. She just looked at him, “can you sing?” She blinked twice and he turned back to Campbell, “what’s wrong with her?”

“Oh, she doesn’t speak. She hasn’t said a word since she got here.” Campbell said, “and there’s nothing wrong with her, she’s just looney like me!”

Eddie walked closer to him and asked as gently as he could, “Campbell, how exactly are you here?”

Campbell paused in which he faltered, knowing how his own father felt about his disorder before smiling, “Can you not guess? I’m manic.” Y/N looked up and smiled at him, making his eyes dart to her and a more genuine smile appeared on his lips before he reassured Eddie, “but don’t worry. The drugs I take make me completely stable. Except for headaches, of course.” He blinked in pain as he focused back on the painful headaches and he squeezed his eyes shut before blindly grabbing onto Eddie’s shirt who could sense a scene coming up as could Y/N who looked up to be amused by Campbell, “I get these headaches. I just comes over me and I cannae…” He flopped on his bed, next to Y/N and shouted out in pain, “ah, the bells! The bells!”

Y/N reached over and went to place her hand on Campbell’s back before stopping, hesitating to do so, not sure if they were close enough or if she wanted to admit that they were close enough and then suddenly Campbell’s mood shifted back to near manic and he shot himself up to look at Eddie, making Y/N pull her hand away, blinking briefly in surprise, “And I want my own show, by the way.”

“What?” Eddie asked.

“Well, after all this work, I think it’s only fair, don’t you?” He questioned.

“Campbell, I cannae just give you your own show.” Eddie protested, “you need training on the equipment.”

“So? Train me!” Campbell pleaded, eagerly. “I’ll take Friday nights.”

“Will that not clash with Brookside?” Eddie questioned.

Y/N looked at the window where they had gone to to shout after Fergus.

—

The next day, Campbell and Eddie were in the common room with Eddie standing shyly while Campbell did the opposite and shouted through a party megaphone while Y/N sat with Fergus, writing down something for him to read. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have an important announcement to make!” He spotted Fergus and Y/N and narrowed his eyes, “Fergus, stop flirting with Y/N.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and went to the couch rather bored now and put her headphones on.

Campbell and Eddie had announced the request show, while admitting that they had limited records. Eddie went to talk to Nana while Campbell stared at Y/N, feeling nervous to approach her since he worried she hated him with how scared she got when he interacted with her.

Then Fergus clapped him on the back, making him stumble and look at him, unamused before approaching the silent H/C-haired girl.

"Hey, Y/N," Campbell said, kindly, walking up to the silent girl but she didn't seem to hear him as she was listening to her Walkman. He tapped her shoulder, making her jump and stare at him with wide eyes just as she had when they first met. He gestured to her headphones, silently asking if he could take them off and she slowly nodded and he gently slid them off and could vaguely hear Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover by Sophie B. Hawkins.

"Hey, we're doing a request show. You have any requests?"

She looked at him for a good while before getting up and leaving. Campbell frowned and his spirits were diminished before leaning forward and face planting his face into the couch cushion, groaning.

—

Campbell showed Eddie the radio station now cleaned and useable thanks to him, Y/N, and Rosalie and as he left Eddie questioned Campbell about Nana and Campbell answered in his own hyperactive way before Eddie questioned him about his obvious crush on Y/N.

“The silent girl, uh… M/Y/N.” (Mispronunciation of Your Name)

“Y/N.” Campbell corrected, automatically in a slightly defensive tone.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

Campbell’s cheeks burned as they reddened and his heartrate quickened, “No. No. No. She’s new actually. Been here about a week. She… she’s a mystery.” He gave out a dreamy smile, “One I’d like to solve but…” He shrugged like, what can you do? —

Campbell was snoring when he was awoken by a friendly smack in the head. He woke up, groaning with confusion before turning on his light, illuminating Y/N who smile sweetly at him as she held something behind her back.

"Jesus, Y/N." He groaned, "what you do that for?" She just looked at him and he nodded, remembering who je was talking to, "right. Uh, what is it?"

Y/N brought a custom record sleeve out from behind her back and he slowly began to realize what she was trying tell him.

"Oh, you want me to play one of these songs during the show tomorrow, er… today?" He asked.

She nodded and sat on the edge of his bed, making him kick around spazzily and awkwardly before sitting up, trying to make room for her as his heart pounded and he looked down at her, feeling her body heat up against his but forced himself not to think about that as it was a bit of a creepy thought to have at two in the morning as she showed him the songs on the back of the vinyl which was also handmade, she pointed at the first song: a cover of The Velvet Underground's Sweet Jane by Cowboy Junkies.

"Is that your favorite song?" He asked and she nodded. "Wait, these are all from different bands, how'd you get this?"

She pointed to herself, "you made it?" He gathered, "Who made the record?" She pointed to herself again and he just smiled at her impressed and enamored by her. "You are one mystery, Y/N L/N. You may be my favorite mystery.”

She smiled, telling him that she liked the idea of being a mystery to him and kissed his cheek, near the corner of his lip, nearly making him melt with a loud dreamy sigh before running off. He looked after he with a starstruck look of awe on his face before flopping back on his pillow, groaning.

—

The next day, Y/N shared a smile with Fergus before listening in on the radio to the show, standing and watching Campbell through the window.

“Good evening! This is Ready Eddie.” Eddie introduced, “and on my left is my right-hand man…”

“Campbell Bain.” Campbell introduced, not seeing Y/N watching him and the smile on her lips.

“And you’re listening to the first ever Ready Eddie Radio Request Road Show.” He gave Campbell a thumbs up and the nineteen-year-old pushed a button, making a jingle play.

“Ready Eddie’s road show. Ready, Eddie, go.”

“That’s right. This is the premiere. This is the first. And you can tell everyone that you were there. You heard it! You saw it!” Campbell said, enthusiastically before joking, “And they’ll tell you, it’s all part of your illness.”

Y/N giggled at his antics before realizing this and she zipped her leather jacket up over her shirt with the sarcastic quote on it.

“We’re playing requests from Ward Eleven this evening. This one is for Francine. I hope you’re listening, Francine.”

Campbell then teased, “I hope anyone’s listening.” He then saw Y/N watching him and let out an audible smile that melted his insides.

“Is anybody listening?” Eddie asked, “Is anybody out there?”

Then Help! By the Beatles started to play and soon the patients came out and Campbell ran out of the station to dance with some patients before more came out, including Fergus. He gave Y/N a smile and thumbs up as he flashed the part of the television he had removed.

Campbell ran back to Eddie and pulled his earphone off so he could talk to him, “the television’s broken, Eddie! There is a God!”

Eddie nodded in the direction of Y/N and Campbell’s face lit up and he ran to Y/N and taking her hands, trying to ease her into dancing. She shook her head before starting to shuffle awkwardly to the music before Campbell took her hands and pulled her against him so she danced with him to the beat of the music. She then giggled up against him and he smiled, triumphally.

He was about to comment on how beautiful her laugh when there was a BANG! And the music stopped, making them all exclaim in disappointment before Campbell and Y/N ran back to the station to see what was wrong.

“What’s wrong?”

“The mixing desk.” Eddie said, trying to fix it with his limited knowledge.

“Do something!” Campbell exclaimed.

“What can I do? I can’t even turn on the bathroom light without shocking myself.” Eddie remarked.

“Well, check the plug. Maybe it’s the fuse.” Campbell suggested as Y/N looked up at Fergus and gestured for him to come.

“It’s not the fuse.” Eddie sighed.

Campbell ran his hand through his floppy hair, “I cannae believe this. I’ve just had the world’s shortest career as a disk jockey.”

Fergus took out a screwdriver and headed inside to help and started to unscrew the screws of the mixing desk.

“Fergus, what are you doing?” Campbell asked.

“I’ll just have a look.” Fergus reassure him.

“No, don’t!” Eddie shouted, “don’t have a look there.”

Y/N helped Fergus lift the plate of the mixing desk as Eddie continued to try and stop Fergus and Y/N, “Fergus, Y/N, I’m asking you. Please, leave it alone”

“He’s gonna blow it up.” A patient said.

“He’s not!” Campbell protested.

“I think I know what the problem is.” Fergus told Eddie.

“He’s blowing it up.” Another patient said and the others started to chant Fergus’ name.

“Fergus, don’t, okay!? Just leave it alone. It’s all we’ve got.” Eddie pleaded and Y/N smacked Eddie’s shoulder when Stuart literally pushed her out of the way, making her squeak and stumble before Campbell caught her and glared at Stuart.

“Oi, watch where you’re going!” He shouted.

Stuart aggressively grabbed Fergus holding him in a near chokehold and Y/N tried to go forth to help but Campbell held her back, knowing she’d just be pushed away again, if not sedated.

“He’s not causing trouble, is he?” He asked Eddie and Y/N shook her head, frantically at Eddie.

“No, he’s just helping me, get the mixing desk going again.” Eddie muttered.

“Him? He couldn’t get his brain going again.” Stuart spat and Y/N scoffed, implying that she felt that better described Stuart than Fergus.

“Leave it, Stuart.” Isabella, the more kind nurse said, “it’s all over.”

Stuart let Fergus go and sulked out of the room, clearly upset that he didn’t get to hurt someone as Y/N gave him the middle finger.

Fergus closed the plate of the mixing desk and Y/N flipped the switch, making the light come back on.

“You two are geniuses.” Campbell gasped.

Y/N shook her head and pointed at Fergus like, no, he’s the genius.

“YOU’RE GENIUSES!” Campbell shouted and he slammed the door shut and got back to the microphone, “Sorry about the technical problems, folks. We’re now back on the air and we hope to keep it that way. Our next request is for Y/N and dedicated to her by me.” He chortled as he looked at her and clicked his tongue as he winked.

The cover of Sweet Jane played, making Y/N smile as Eddie looked at Fergus, giving him an apologetic and thankful smile as Fergus perpetually scowled before his lips curved into a gentle smile.

Later, Y/N helped Campbell clean up the hallways before they bumped into each other.

“Uh… so how did you know how to help Fergus?” He asked.

She took out her wad of paper and wrote: Learned. Taught.

He nodded, taking what he could get, “I always knew you were smart.” He said, honestly and he hesitated before leaning towards her to kiss her cheek like she had done the night, she shifted, conflicted as she could see the pure gentless in Campbell's personality, in his actions, in his eyes, and she could feel it in his cheek kiss. He had hesitated, not wanting to overstep boundaries and he was still nervous about his decision but before she could react Eddie ran out of the room, making them break apart and move out of the way before he rammed into them.

*This is a series from my Wattpad, so I'm moving in to Tumblr and Archive of my Own. There is an entire subplot later on of stalking and the cause of the reader's muteness or mutism (which ever is the correct term). Am I the only one who feels like Campbell Bain might also have ADHD or is it just because of his Bipolar/Manic Depression. I'm usually good at this but I'm having a hard time differentiating the two or maybe it's just David Tennant.

#Takin' Over the Asylum #Takin' Over the Asylum: Hey Jude #Takin' Over the Asylum episode one #The Eccedentiast #Campbell bain x Reader #Campbell Bain #Young David Tennant #Manic Depressant Campbell Bain #Bipolar Campbell Bain #Implied Non-Scottish Reader #Selective Mutism #PTSD Reader #Traumatized Reader #Reader is wary of men #Schizophrenic Furgus #Psychogenic Mute Reader #Loving Campbell Bain #David Tennant's Expressive Eyes #David Tennant Characters #We are loonies and we are proud #Pre-Doctor Who David Tennant #Auburn David Tennant #Sweet Jane #OCD Rosalie

[concreteburialplot]

VIRALITY // 11

11 - Peak Fashion

pairing: noah sebastian x fem!oc [vallie] 👀

masterlist: here | crossposted: ao3 | word count: 5k

warnings: angsty? but cute?, jealous nicholas, sassy but goofy noah, something revealed, very short time skips, 18+ MDNI

summary: vallie abruptly wakes to a million texts to meet for a last minute music video. upon arriving she discovers that the band is not at all prepared which sets her and noah on a mission.

Reminder: This contains the very mild crossover with Christian 'Kras' Anthony from Chase Atlantic ...... and introduces another extremely mild crossover 🫣 they are both merely for side character/reference purposes. Nothing huge, don’t worry lol just for fun

Disclaimer - This story is semi-AU since it does not follow actual timelines or events. The band is still fairly small & does things entirely on their own with no other support.

don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

VALLIE

Sunlight warms my eyelids and gently lulls me awake. My eyes shoot open at the realization that I have once again fallen asleep somewhere that isn’t my home – well my pseudo-home anyway. It seems that anywhere else feels homier than my showroom-esque Airbnb.

This time I don’t wake up in a panic, the smell of Christian’s woodsy cologne reassures me that I’m somewhere safe. The last time stamp I saw on my phone last night was 4:30 am. We had spent the whole night catching up, watching our favorite comfort shows, and binging all his favorite American snacks that he can’t get in Australia.

I reach over to the nightstand to grab my phone. A groan escapes me when I see that the time reads 8:47 am. My brows curve up at the ridiculous amount of notifications that fill my screen. While my job doesn’t really have “days off”, I had no specific plans or meetings booked for the day. So, it’s unexpected.

Most of them were from Bryan, the Omens’ photographer that I met at the warehouse with Noah. The messages flood my screen with missed calls and texts.

Bryan: Warehouse. 8 am.

Bryan: Hello? Are you awake?

Bryan: Music video. Today.

Bryan: I think you should be there.

Bryan: Hey!!! Music video !! Today !! 8 am !!

Bryan: Dude

Bryan: We’re starting. Show up whenever, if you want.

Fuck.

Kras continues to snooze next to me and I know that not even a plane crash could wake him up. So, I press a quick peck on his cheek before I roll out of bed and quickly begin gathering my belongings.

I’m rushing because well… Bryan seems like the only Omen who wants to cooperate or include me in any actual band activities. So, I have to be here. And I’m already an hour late.

I leave a small note on Christian’s dining table, saying how nice it was to see him, thanking him for the pep talk, and that I’ll see him and the rest of his band in a zoom meeting next Monday morning.

I’m still not sure if saying yes to his job offer was the right choice. I’m already stretched thin enough between my main client and now Omens, adding Chase might be more than I can handle. While my main client’s fanbase is much more… intensive, Chase Atlantic is still larger than both of them. And that swirls a terrifying pit of anxiety in my stomach because I’m not quite sure I’m equipped with enough experience to handle it all.

Gravel cracks beneath my tires as I pull up to the warehouse. I gather my bed head hair into the closest thing to a bun I can get it and try to rub off the slept in mascara smudged under my eyes.

My engine isn’t fully off for half a second before I’m out and locking my door.

I smooth out the exact same outfit I wore to Christian’s yesterday since I didn’t have time to stop home. Usually, I would never show up to a work event in sweatpants, a cropped cami, sneakers, and a flannel, but here we are. It’s not like the band is particularly formal anyway.

I see Folio and Jolly first, who both give me strange looks, like they’re surprised I’m here. Then, Noah and Nicholas once I get to the entrance. They seem equally as shocked too.

“What are you doing here?” Noah asks, lined with his usual snarky tone, seeming almost offended by my presence.

“I invited her.” Bryan speaks up from the background, adjusting the camera around his neck. “And you’re about an hour late by the way.”

Regardless of his criticism, he gives me a smile and a side hug – which surprises me.

Aside from Nicholas – for…obvious reasons – Bryan is the one who meets me with the most warmth out of the five of them.

I offer a closed lipped smile and a small awkward wave to the band. I wasn’t prepared to accidentally crash a music video shoot.

“Nice outfit, you just get out of bed?” Noah quips.

I roll my sleep-deprived eyes, “Nice to see you too, Noah.”

The rest of the band disperses into whatever they were doing before I arrived.

Nick walks up to me and I can tell he’s trying his best to act casual.

“Hey.” He says simply but quietly between us.

“Hey.” I match his somewhat awkward tone.

My gaze reluctantly meets his and I immediately regret it. His hair is pulled up into a fluffy ponytail with his hair flat against his head and he looks so good.

This was going to be more difficult than I thought.

“Val?” He asks trying to get my attention.

“Huh?” I shake my head from the fuzz sitting in my brain.

“Oh, I just said it’s nice to see you.” He says demurely. “I’m glad you’re here.”

I take note of the dullness of his normally bright eyes, and the dark bags beneath them. It makes me wonder if he got as little sleep as I did.

The energy of this whole ordeal is so… odd. It makes me feel as though I’m once again missing parts of a puzzle that I’m not aware of.

His gives me a once over and lingers a bit on my flannel.

“Oh! Right!” I set my bag down on a nearby table before slipping the flannel off my arms, giving it a lazy fold, and offering it over to him. “Here have it back.”

He instinctively takes the folded garment, looking at it like I just handed him the wrong Chipotle order. His brows furrow, initially in confusion then into something much different.

Before he responds it hits me.

I fucked up.

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

“This isn’t mine.” He states in a slighted tone.

“Oh- Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t get much sleep last night–“ I immediately realize that probably wasn’t the best thing to follow that up with. “I just need a coffee.”

“Right.” He lands the flannel back in my hands. He goes to pass me and stops as he’s grazing my shoulder. “And who’s ever it is, has shitty taste in cologne.”

My eyes widen.

Did I just put Kras’ proposed scheme into action by accident?

It’s fine.

It’s perfectly fine.

I’m fine.

I discreetly shake out the tips of my fingers and glance up to finally take in my surroundings fully. The floor is covered in a massive tarp, covered in… dirt?

I steal the phone from my tote pocket and carefully walk over to where Bryan is messing with some equipment. I shuffle right up next to him and whisper, “What…exactly is happening here?”

“I don’t know. Noah just woke us all up at the ass crack of dawn and said we needed to do this today.” Bryan shrugs, not stopping his actions for me, and continues walking carrying a large umbrella light.

“…and you all just went along with it?”

“Listen. I just work here man.” He sets down the heavy light and sighs dramatically.

I can’t help but chuckle at his verbiage.

“Okay… and why did you have to drag me into this?”

“Well, you have a job to do, don’t you?” He questions as if he doesn’t know the answer.

“I mean y-“ I begin but he cuts me off.

“Exactly.” He walks back over to a pile of equipment on a plastic table, and I follow him around like a puppy while he talks. “And you want them to like you, yes?”

“Well, I mean,” My eyes glance over at Nicholas who’s sat on a stool tuning a teal bass. The memories of our bodies entwined graze over my tongue and his working fingers sends a tingle between my legs.

Well, one of them likes me.

Is my first reflex to say.

But I’m not even sure if that’s true, especially not now. I should know better than to trust band boys anyway. I manage them, I’ve been around them since the start of my career. I’ve been best friends with Kras for nearly a decade. I’ve seen what band men do. How they treat the women they use to get off, even the ones they love.

“Look. They need you.” He says, his tone more serious than before and leans against the wall beside him with crossed arms. “Whether they believe it or not, they need you. You and I both know that. If Noah wants to be an arrogant, stubborn asshole, then let him. But don’t give up on them. They just need time.” His eyes drift to the four of them messing around with their instruments. “You’re stuck with them one way or another. And they’re not a bad bunch to be stuck with. Trust me.” He gives me a half smile before nudging my arm. “Loosen up a little, you might find that you like ‘em.”

Bryan pushes himself off the wall going to find some other task and I’m left with this peptalk I wasn’t expecting, especially from him.

I take the time to watch them, really watch them. Noah is well … Noah, so there’s some grumpy tension that follows him – but the rest of them, even while grumpy and irritated, flow together effortlessly.

Noah ripped everyone from their sleep and yet, they’re still all here. Sure, you could write that off as good work ethic, but I think it’s more than that. As unpredictable as he is, they let Noah lead them. At least for the most part.

They all showed up for him today and the whole time I’ve known them.

‘This band is all he has.’ Nicholas’ words echo in my ears from that rainy night in his car.

Maybe they all know that, and maybe they all honor it.

They all love him enough to show up and keep showing up.

Christian is right. I can’t let my feelings cloud this. If not for me, then for them.

As I clear from my dissociation, I realize I must’ve hyper fixated on their bustling about because the only thing I see now is their attire… or the lack thereof.

“Wait, wait, wait.” I cautiously step around the piles of dirt on a brown tarp to reach Noah. “Is this the whole outfit? This is what you’re wearing for the video?”

Noah sighs in exasperation and drops the corner of tarp he’s holding to face me. “Yes? Do you have a problem with it?”

“Problem with it? It is the problem.” I give him a once over, just black jeans and plain grey shirt with a faded CocaCola logo on it. I reach to his sides and give the seems a small tug to pull the logo taught against his thin chest. “You see that? What does that look like to you?”

Noah raises a snarky brow at me, “A Coke logo?”

“Wrong. That-” I drop the edges of his shirt and stab his sternum with my finger. “That is unpaid brand advertising.”

I can tell he immediately wants to roll his eyes but doesn’t when he realizes I’m right.

The rest of the boys wear similar outfits, jeans, t-shirts, hoodies.

“Okay, well this is all we brought last minute, and the house is like an hour away, I’m not driving back there.”

There’s no way I’m letting them shoot an entire video in dirt with such casual outfits. I tug at my lip and tap my fingertips on my arm in thought.

As if a lightbulb appears above my head, a possible solution crosses my mind.

“I think I saw a thrift shop in that strip where the bar is.” I shrug, “I can try to find something there. But I can’t just let you play around in dirt like this.”

Noah raises his brows and crosses his tattooed arms across his chest, “Well I’m sure as fuck not letting you pick out outfits for us.”

I walk over to my bag, picking up easily and walking towards the warehouse opening. “Then you better hurry up and get in my car.”

Noah and I had been looking through racks of dusty clothes for about 10 minutes without speaking to each other. I knew a thrift shop was somewhat of a risky choice, but after not seeing anything worth shit for a bit had me nervous.

I’m not sure why I’m nervous – but I shouldn’t be making risky bold decisions with them.

Across the racks I catch Noah picking up a thick peacoat. At first glance, I find it absolutely repulsive, but for a music video? It could be exactly what we need. At least it’d be better than a Coca-Cola shirt. For the vibe I think he’s going for, it might be perfect.

He lifts up the hanger and flips it around, his brows knitting intently at it. He likes it.

I haven’t known him that long, but he’s pretty transparent, no matter how mysterious he thinks he is.

I quickly divert my eyes back down when he goes to return the coat to its place on the rack. I know that if I say I like it, he’ll immediately be against it, so I keep my mouth shut.

“So, what kinda vibe are you going for?” I ask casually.

He glares over at me, “What do you care? Changing our clothes was your idea remember?”

“Whoa.” I put my hands up in defense. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Well, I’m sure you wanna put us in the same preppy clothes you put your other big mysterious client in. Which I’m still convinced is Harry Styles by the way.”

I roll my eyes knowing which “client” he’s referring to since I haven’t mentioned that I took on a third one yet. He means the first one, the one that landed me here in the first place, my ‘big success’. At least that’s what they kept telling me when sitting in meeting after meeting getting pitched different ‘next big artists’. And somehow, I got stuck with Noah & friends™️.  

“No, it’s not Harry and I don’t put them in preppy clothes.” I reply absentmindedly sifting through hangers.

“Them?” He picks up on my slip immediately and my eyes widen slightly. “It’s a band?”

I clear my throat and shake my head. “No – no that’s not what I–“

“It is, isn’t it?” His brows lower at me. “It better not be a conflict of interest, that would be a breach of contract and I-“

“Relax. I’m not stupid, I wouldn’t have signed contract if it was a conflict of interest.” I glare over at him with annoyed, tired eyes.

I sigh then allow my tense shoulders to roll back. “Yes. It’s a band. But they aren’t a heavy band they’re ehm…. more classic rock, hippie-ish?” I shake my head. “And trust me, I would NOT put you or the rest of you in any of their clothes.”

I press my lips together trying to stifle a giggle that threatens to escape at the thought of Noah in a glitzy jumpsuit.

“What’s so funny?” He furrows his brows at me in offense. “You don’t think I could pull off some hippie clothes?” He asks seriously, but I can tell he doesn’t believe it either, he’s just trying to be difficult.

Then it occurs to me that this reverse-psychology defiant behavior may work to my advantage.

“No, actually. I don’t think you could.” I shrug, sliding some clothes over. “Just like I don’t think you could pull off that hideous peacoat.”

His brows rise higher than I’ve ever seen them. “Oh really? Maybe that’ll be the one I choose then.”

Checkmate.

I ignore it to not put too much emphasis on it. “You never told me what’s the vibe you want.”

“Hm.” He pauses, maybe he doesn’t even know. “I’m not sure. Cult-y? Business-y? Underground elite secret society-y?”

“Wow.” I say with wide, surprised eyes and exaggerating my mouth around the word. “That’s… specific. And you planned to achieve that with graphic tees?”

“Shut up.”

“Right.”

“Would I know your other band?” He inquires, the curiosity obviously eating at him.

“Shut up.”

“Right.”

We continue to mind our own business in our individual searches while early 2000’s pop plays through the small, dingy shop.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Noah lifting up an obviously homemade PitBull t-shirt.

I can’t help but let out a loud laugh.

He snaps his head over at me with a goofy grin, “What you don’t think Mr. Worldwide is peak fashion?”

I shake my head laughing, “No, I definitely wouldn’t say he is.”

“I think this might be the most badass piece of clothing I’ve ever seen.” He seems half serious and half trying to hold back a cackle.

“It’s a… choice. But you know what? It might be perfect for you.”

He feigns offense, “Why because you think I’m so badass?”

A laugh erupts from me. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Well, I’m getting it. I might wear it in the video.” He throws the white shirt into his cart.

“Great.” I reply sarcastically.

The search seemed to be going a bit better the further we dig. I found a couple pieces that might work for the rest of the band to fit into Noah’s vaguely hyper-specific theme. He’s done the same, just not as successfully.

Across the aisle I notice his hands grasping the sides of a hideous white puffy jacket with patches of sherpa all over it and an oversized hood. The nylon material rasps as he rubs it between his inked fingertips. My brows curve at how he looks at it like it’s some lost treasure.

He pauses before turning to me, lifting it up to showcase its entirety.

“What do you think about this?” He asks genuinely, which throws me off. It sounds so authentic, so real, and not hidden behind any sort of sassy, crude walls, or ulterior motives. I don’t know if he’s ever truly talked to me like that before, especially not sober.

I’m still cautious since he’s fooled me before, so I stay neutral by lifting my shoulders to a shrug. “I don’t know. Why don’t you try it on?”

He eagerly scoots past his cart that takes up the entire aisle and walks to the mirror. The thick zipper hisses at how quickly he undoes it, like he’s been waiting his whole life for this moment.

I watch him in some form of awe, maybe it’s more curiosity of his behavior. The more I get to know him, the stranger he seems.

He slips his skinny arms through the sleeves, and it fits him loosely but just right, like it’s made for him – though that doesn’t detract from how it still looks a little ridiculous, just less so now that it’s on him.

He turns back to me and spreads out his arms like a child showing off a Halloween costume.

“Well?” He questions.

“I mean the jacket is still pretty silly.” I chuckle. “But it looks nice on you.” I compliment honestly.

A toothy grin spreads across his mouth and turns back to the mirror, “Yeah, I think so too.”

Quiet falls between us again and we move on to different sections. I get so focused on rifling through the clothes that I realize I’ve lost track of Noah. I scan the small store and can’t spot him.

“Noah?” I call and as if right on cue, I feel something dropped around my head followed by a scurrying Noah.

“What the hell?” I reach up and catch the edges of the large hat pulling it off and finding that he’s dropped a massive sombrero on my head. “Hey!”

He chuckles and pulls his shoulders to a shrug, “Might be perfect for you.” He mocks my words from before about the Pitbull shirt.

“Ha-ha very funny.” I roll my eyes playfully. “I’ll get you back.”

“Bring it on.”

What follows is a series of us trying to find the most ridiculous shit to throw on or at each other.

First, I got an ugly, dusty, grandma shawl that I threw on Noah’s shoulders as best as I could before quickly walking in the other direction.

Then, when I wasn’t paying attention and with great stealth, he was able to drop a yellowing Disney rain poncho over my body.

Now, he’s stood in front of a full-length mirror holding up various different pieces of black clothing. In my stroll through the hat section, I found a leopard print fedora perfect for his big head. I sneak up behind him, making sure not to get in frame of the mirror. I reach up on my tip toes to somewhat reach his head, tossing the hat up to bridge the rest, hoping that it would land.

It does land, crooked atop his head.

I cover my mouth to hide a chuckle before backing away slowly. Before I can make my escape, he snaps his head over in my direction, jostling the hat to fly off his head. In a swift move, he catches it with fumbling hands.

“Hey that’s not fair! You’re tiny and fast!” He plops the leopard fedora back on his head and anchors a fist at each hip playfully.

The goofy sight of it all makes me double over nearly cackling. “It’s not my fault you’re big and clunky!”

He pulls the flimsy hat off his head, squishing it thin between his fingers pointing at me. “You better watch your back, Thornhill.”

“Ooh, you’re so scary, Sebastian.” I tease with raised hands feigning fear.

“You think you’re so funny huh?” He speaks directly at me probably trying to distract me, but I catch him snatching another random hat off the rack while he slowly makes his way towards me.

My eyes glance at down at his actions and I make a run for it. I don’t know what I expected but, he chases me around the thrift shop like we’re little kids in a toy store. I stealthily weave through metal racks full of musty clothes trying to lose him, giggles pouring from both our mouths.

I ignore the judging looks from the employees and the few patrons shopping around us. It’s a blessing that I can’t hear the murmuring around us. My ears are full of only my own heartbeat and the sound of his playful and competitive laughter.

It’s then that I realize I hadn’t fully heard him laugh before, not sober anyway, and it’s so… endearing. It’s one of those laughs that’s contagious and only makes you laugh harder. Which isn’t something I expected from him. None of this is really what I expected.

He finally corners me in the scarf section. I spin around in the tiny space between us and within that split second he’s snatched a bizarrely colored thin scarf and throws it around my neck like a towel, keeping hold of each end.

Just as fast, I grasp a similar scarf and match his actions, throwing the scarf up around his neck. With the speed and rush of the motion, I accidentally tugged him closer and lower to me.

My eyes flutter up and the edges of his laughing grin shorten when his eyes meet mine. Unexpectedly, my breath hitches in my throat. I never noticed just how chocolate-y brown his eyes were until now. Normally his eyes are so serious or angry or… drunk, but right now, they’re wide and warm and just as confused as mine. His eyes shift side to side seemingly searching mine for something I’m not quite sure of.

Being this close to him really emphasizes just how tall he is, the top of my head barely meets his shoulders and for some reason, that realization makes my heart thump harder against my ribcage.  

I’m frozen where I stand, I should pull away, but I can’t. I shouldn’t enjoy the butterflies that run rampant in my tummy. It’s just Noah after all. The asshole that somehow always ends up drunk on the floor. The one that tells me how to do my job and how not to manage him. The one that told Nick that I’m a ‘stuck-up corporate bitch’.

But, that’s the same Noah that’s chasing me around this store like we’re playing tag on a playground.

My tummy twists and my breath sharply lodges itself in my throat when I catch his eyes dart to my lips – once.

Twice.

He moves closer, just marginally, and then again – eyes, lips.

I mimic his actions, my eyes flicker from his brown eyes to light pink lips.

Then he’s even closer – so close I can feel his exhaled breath brush past my nose.

Again.

Eyes, lips.

I feel his knuckles just graze my shirt where he’s still holding the scarf at either end and it sends electricity down to my fingertips.

Then, a strand of his long brown hair falls from behind his ear, and it seems to snap him from our daze. He lets out an awkward chuckle, steps back and slides the scarf off my neck by one end.

“We should probably wrap up here… I’m sure the guys are sick of waiting for us.” He scratches the back of his neck and diverts his eyes from me.

It seems like the right thing to do, but for some reason it leaves me a little disappointed.

Disappointed in what exactly?

What the fuck just happened?

I pull the scarf off of him in the same manner and hang it back up on its hook. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

Checking out is hushed and awkward as we stand next to each other in front of the workers that had to watch us nearly destroy the store.

We walk out silently until I notice that he’s walking out with the leopard print fedora proudly plopped on his head.

“You really bought that stupid hat?” I chuckle calling after him carrying 2 heavy, giant bags full of clothes.

“Yeah duh-“ He begins looking back but trips over his feet across the exit door frame.

I bring a plastic bag-occupied hand up to cover my mouth to hide a giggle.

“Shut up.” He directs me with a pointed hand even though I hadn’t said anything.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re kinda goofy?” I laugh, shaking my head and clicking my key fob to unlock the car.

“Goofy?” He gasps as if he’s offended. “Valerie this is peak fashion.”

I chuckle and roll my eyes, “Get in the fucking car, will you?”

He laughs and matches my actions of throwing the heavy bags in the backseat. He slides in the passenger of my blue Mercedes rental and the clunky weight of his lanky body shakes the small car. He stuffs his legs into the tiny, allotted space for them. I would make a comment about how large he is, but I’m not in the business of boosting men’s egos.

I press the push-to-start and begin navigating my way out of the parking lot. It takes a bit for my phone to connect and begin playing music, but when it does it fills the car with a familiar tune.

Noah reaches over and spins the dial to turn up the music. It doesn’t fully register in my mind what song it is until Noah speaks up.

“Is this the hippie rock band you’re representing?” He asks, a bit of sharpness to his voice.

“I-I well, no, I just-“ I’m caught off guard and stutter. I’m new to handling more than one client and having them not know about each other seemed like the best course of action. But I particularly didn’t want Noah to know since I knew he’d compare what I do with others with what I do with them.

“It is, isn’t it?” He snaps. “You manage Greta Van Fleet?”

“I… well,” I pause then sigh out of pure exhaustion. “Yes. I manage them.” I say flatly, somewhat annoyed. “I don’t really think that’s any of your business though.”

He’s silent for a moment, seemingly just taking in the song – Lover, Leaver.

“You’re right. They’re nothing like us.” He announces simply. “The voice on that singer is insane though.”

I can’t stop my brows from furrowing, and from one abruptly propping up.

He’s not upset.

He’s not upset?

“Yeah… I know.” I reply cautiously, glancing over at him to decipher the unbothered look on his face.

“Well, don’t look so surprised, they’re good. I can appreciate good music, can’t I?” He lets a few moments pass. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. They sound so familiar…” He trails off in thought.

“I know, you were expecting Harry Styles.” I joke. “But it’s not, so you can chill.” I tap my fingertips across the leather steering wheel.

“I knew it wasn’t Harry.” He shifts in his seat, crossing his arms across his skinny waist with his hands draping over his sides. He rests his head on the door looking out the window. “If it was, you wouldn’t have taken us.”

“I bet you wish it was Harry Styles then huh?” I say as a somewhat half joke and glance over at him while mindlessly tapping my fingertips on the steering wheel. He stays silent, just watching the trees go by. I can’t tell if the silence is intentional or if he’s just zoned out.

Some time passes before he returns to the conversation.

“Well, I don’t care if you represent them. Just know that I’m not dressing up like some wizard man like your other singer.” He warns firmly with a playful pointed finger.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Sebastian.”

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @kingdomof-omens @persuasivus @strawberryruffilo @thebadchic @the-hell-i-overcame @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @cncohshit @dominuslunae [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

A/N: Thank you if you've made all the way to chp 11! lol thank you for reading anything i write. thank you so much for every like, reblog, ask, or comment. It means the world to me truly. Thank you.

i love hearing your thoughts so feel free to share! (i'm really bad at responding to comments/asks but i still love them 🥺)

#can i get a w in the chat for noah character development finally #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian x oc #noah sebastian fluff #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fic #noah sebastian fic #nick ruffilo fanfiction #nick ruffilo fanfic #nick ruffilo rpf #noah sebastian rpf #bad omens rpf #concreteburialplot works #virality update #virality series #noah sebastian x fem!oc

[kiwi224]

Spanish

Mike finds out that you are latin american and wants to test his Spanish skills on you.

Obs: Security reader, female reader, Mike Schmidt being cute and speaking spanish omg

It was another ordinary round at Freddy's. You casually ate a bag of snacks leaning against a wall in the main stage room while Mike slapped his flashlight, trying to get it to work again.

"Isn't it easier to buy another flashlight?" You scratch your head and grab another handful of snacks, receiving a dirty look from Mike. "That one is gone."

"This flashlight is really good, it just needs one..." He slaps the flashlight again and it finally lights up right in front of your eyes, making you groan as you cover your face with the brightness. "See? It's great."

"No, I didn't." You mutter sarcastically as you rub your still sore eyes, placing yourself next to him.

It's been a week and a few days since you started working at Freddy's Fazzbear Pizza. You needed money, and some crazy person with no other goals in life decided to hire not just one, but two security guards to inspect an old, dilapidated restaurant like that. You're not the one who's going to question it, since they pay some money and you needed it quickly.

But what made that place more bizarre was how afraid people were of it. You'd guess there's some kind of rumors about the place, making even your disheartened co-worker pay attention.

Sometimes it even made him scared, like now.

He turns the flashlight to a corner of the room, looking from side to side.

"What happened?" You laugh as you place the bag of chips on a table, turning on your flashlight. "Is there a haunting there? Those rumors aren't real, Mike. You're just trying to scare the poor new girl, like many people love to do..."

"Watch Foxy." He interrupts you with a shaky voice, almost making you start to really worry. "You wouldn't want to see him run."

You smack your lips and roll your eyes. What is this place? Do robots run now?

You move in the direction that terrifies Mike, aware that you won't let yourself be led away by yet another co-worker deciding to play a prank on you.

Or you just thought you wouldn't let yourself go, until you heard metallic noises coming from that direction.

Mike grabs your arm and you look at each other, terror starting to rise through your body in the form of goosebumps.

Damn, you should have listened to Mike.

"Du rum dum dum dum du dum..."

Holy shit, you should have fucking listened to Mike.

Mike's feet are faster than your reasoning, taking you to the camera room in a matter of seconds. When you enter and lean against the door, it finally sinks in that the fucking robot really runs.

"Puta que pariu, filho da puta do caralho, vai tomar no cu..." The curses in your native language come out instinctively, followed by your unregulated breathing. You feel Mike's gaze on you, not caring at all because, fuck, you guys just almost died.

You walk slowly until you practically fall into the chair, staring at Mike with wide eyes. "Okay, I promise I'll never doubt you again, I'm sorry, I swear I paid for all my sins today."

He has the courage to let out a laugh, walking towards you with his hand on his chest and unregulated breathing, leading you to think that he's not much of a runner.

"What are you laughing at?" You sigh, looking up at him. He smiles, and you're sure you'd be much more enchanted by that sweet smile if you weren't already terrified.

"Where are you from?" He sits in the chair next to you, sipping the iced coffee he abandoned hours before.

"Why are you asking me that?" You frown, slowly getting used to the calm that has now set in.

"I heard you say a few words just now. You know, when we had just arrived in the room." And you suddenly remember swearing at the fifth generation of that shitty robot in your first language. "Is that... Spanish?"

You shake your head and laugh in disbelief, leaning your elbow on the table. "No, it's Portuguese. Brazilian Portuguese."

He closes his eyes in confusion. "Do you speak Portuguese? I swore you spoke Spanish."

"You north-americans swear a lot of things." You laugh, taking a cookie from a package that has been open for who knows how long.

"What? Why do you say that?"

"Well, that's one of the reasons I don't usually say I'm latina." You mumble, chewing on the cookie. "Either foreigners will tell me something very stereotypical, like thinking that we all have pet monkeys and capybaras, or they will be extremely idiotic and prejudiced. Then, you know, I avoid it."

He nods, taking a cookie from the same bag. You spend some time in silence, leaving you curious about what he thinks about this, while wondering if he's going to say something absurd typical of poorly educated natives.

"I speak Spanish." He looks at you with a very serious expression, and you remain silent for a few seconds, absorbing the information.

"Are you serious?" You laugh and see him frown in confusion.

"Seriously, I've already taken some classes. But since you speak Portuguese, you probably don't understand it very well..."

"Of course I'll understand, Mike." You say like it's obvious, biting into another cookie. "Portuguese and Spanish are very similar, I will understand a lot of what you say. I can speak a little Spanish, as well as portunhol, which every Brazilian knows how to improvise a little." You laugh, leaning back in the chair, seeing him still staring at you, making you almost sink into the chair with those tired and cute eyes.

"And what the hell is portunhol?" The fact that he actually is very confused makes you want to laugh, while also making you happy that he's not being a jerk to you about it.

"Portuguese mixed with Spanish. It's often used on Brazil's borders with other Latin American countries, or in situations where Portuguese and Spanish speakers need to communicate. It's kind of difficult to explain, it's not just one language... It's a feeling."

He laughs and shakes his head. You continue: "But you still haven't proven to me that you speak Spanish. Come on, say something."

He nods, turning the chair to face you, making you nervous for some reason. Maybe it's because your handsome co-worker is all sweet and shows off his Spanish skills, or maybe it's because you have a slight crush on him.

He clears his throat and lifts his chin in thought, then looks at you again, pulling his lips into a restrained, but incredibly charming smile.

"¿Hola bella dama, cómo está?"

"Hi beautiful lady, how are you?"

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks, making you exhale through your nose with a smile, focusing your eyes on his again.

"Tu pronunciación es muy buena. Muy imponente, sensual..."

"Your pronunciation is very good. Very imposing, sensual..."

You only realize what you said when you see him lock his eyes with you, his face red. He clears his throat and tilts his head slightly with a smile so attractive it makes your stomach flutter.

"¿Crees que mi voz es sensual?"

"Do you think my voice is sensual?"

The way his voice sounds hoarse brings heat back to your cheeks as you shift in your seat, having no idea what to say next, all you can do is nod your head as he laughs at your embarrassment.

"Tu sonrisa es muy bonita."

"Your smile is very pretty."

You shoot without even thinking. He tilts his head with a frown, making you feel a little scared for fear that he didn't like it.

"What the hell is son... how do you say, sonrisa?" The americanized pronunciation of the word that comes out of his mouth makes you sigh and hold back a laugh.

"Sonrisa. It means 'smile'." Your eyes meet his softly, and you're sure he understands what you said when his cheeks redden and he looks away from yours, biting his lip in an attempt to hide his smile.

You see him run his palms over his pants and look at you, agitated. "There's a sentence... Can I... Can I try to say it correctly?"

You frown and say in a playful tone. "Go on, señor."

He adjusts his posture, opening and closing his mouth several times, as if to rephrase the sentence. He sighs and those sweet eyes lock onto his again, his breathing suddenly becoming uncertain.

"¿Estaría interesada una dama tan hermosa en tener una cita conmigo?"

"Would such a beautiful lady be interested in going on a date with me?"

Your heart races and your hands ring at the same time, making all your lines of logical reasoning freeze. You let out a crooked laugh and stammer out a response: "Yeah... That's a great phrase, you said it very well."

You see his mouth waver and his gaze stays on you for long minutes, making you finally sure that the question was really meant for you.

The most charming man you've ever seen, with the most charming voice you've ever heard, just asked you out in Spanish.

An inevitable smile appears on his face as he is painted in warm tones. You see that this wasn't enough to quell Mike's anxiety, which almost melted in front of him with worry, and this hurries you to respond, feeling warm inside.

"Sería un placer, chico hermoso."

"It would be a pleasure, pretty boy."

#mike schmidt #fnaf #latina #mike x reader #five nights at freddy's

[thebrightestwitchofherage]

Today is the international holocaust Remembrance eve.

To those who say “I’m not antisemitic, I’m anti Zionist” .I wish that were true, but it’s not.

The denial of the events of October 7th and the terror Israelis have always faced , has reminded many of holocaust denial. Which by the way, is also on the rise right now.

Hell, holocaust survivors who survived October 7th as well have compared the two.

I can’t believe I have to say this - comparing Israel’s actions to the Nazis’ is incredibly vile and ignorant. It a lazy comparison and I cannot stress it enough how different these are. Educate yourself.

Moreover,I’ve said it before, today, antisemitism is rebranded as anti Zionism. since the October 7th attacks/ Israeli Hamas war has started the following things have happened:

According to a recent survey conducted by CNN,73% of Jewish Americans college students have “expressed or seen antisemitism since the start of the school year “. Jewish students are terrified and I don’t blame them at all, when people are chanting “globalise the intifadas “.

-Antisemitic rates and antisemitic based crimes rates have gone up by hundreds-thousands of precedents (depending on the country).

-Swatikas or stars of David are drawn on Jewish homes. “Hitler was right” was trending multiple times ffs . Suddenly it’s ok to say that (or at least ignored). Suddenly , antisemitic stereotypes and antisemitic Blood libels are popping up. This is not a coincidence, and You cant deny it.

Whether you support them or not is another matter, and idk like to believe you don’t. If you see them, don’t jump on the bandwagon. Think about the sources of what you’re reading or hearing.

Jewish and Israeli people are constantly harassed, myself included. This has got to a point that as an Israeli jewish woman the current travel ban / recommendation for me are literally the entire world.

We are all advised to not wear Jewish symbols or speak Hebrew loudly. We’ve always done this but this time it’s different.

I will not let that be my reality anymore. This is not what my great grandparents legacy should be. In a way, I’m glad they’re not here to see this.

——

There are so many other examples for this concerning phenomenon. I could go on about how this phenomenon is caused by antisemitism and ignorance. Honestly, I just don’t want to see anymore hate today. You can read them yourself.

The main takeaway should be that You can wish for a better future for the Palestinian people without harassing or hating jews . Without demonising Israelis.

עם ישראל חי🫶🇮🇱✡️

Ps- Every time I post something about antisemitism/ the difficulties of being Israeli or Jewish nowadays, I get called “deluded” , “whiny”, or “self victimising “. If you fail to see how this is not any of these- you’re gonna get blocked.

#holocaust remembrance #believe jewish women #israel #jewish #israeli #jewblr #gaza strip #israel palestine conflict #טאמבלר ישראלי #ישראל #human rights #hamas is isis #jewish history #Gaza #gaza strikes #news on gaza #middle eastern history #middle east #current events

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

‘Enshittification’ is coming for absolutely everything

Cory Doctorow: Last year, I coined the term “enshittification” to describe the way that platforms decay. That obscene little word did big numbers; it really hit the zeitgeist. The American Dialect Society made it its Word of the Year for 2023 (which, I suppose, means that now I’m definitely getting a poop emoji on my tombstone). So what’s enshittification and why did it catch fire? It’s my theory explaining how the internet was colonised by platforms, why all those platforms are degrading so quickly and thoroughly, why it matters and what we can do about it. We’re all living through a great enshittening, in which the services that matter to us, that we rely on, are turning into giant piles of shit. It’s frustrating. It’s demoralising. It’s even terrifying.

I think that the enshittification framework goes a long way to explaining it, moving us out of the mysterious realm of the “great forces of history”, and into the material world of specific decisions made by real people; decisions we can reverse and people whose names and pitchfork sizes we can learn. Enshittification names the problem and proposes a solution. It’s not just a way to say “things are getting worse”, though, of course, it’s fine with me if you want to use it that way. (It’s an English word. We don’t have ein Rat für englische Rechtschreibung. English is a free-for-all. Go nuts, meine Kerle.) But in case you want to be more precise, let’s examine how enshittification works. It’s a three-stage process: first, platforms are good to their users. Then they abuse their users to make things better for their business customers. Finally, they abuse those business customers to claw back all the value for themselves. Then, there is a fourth stage: they die. Let’s do a case study. What could be better than Facebook?

Facebook arose from a website developed to rate the fuckability of Harvard undergrads, and it only got worse after that. When Facebook started off, it was only open to US college and high-school kids with .edu and K-12.us addresses. But in 2006, it opened up to the general public. It effectively told them: Yes, I know you’re all using MySpace. But MySpace is owned by a billionaire who spies on you with every hour that God sends. Sign up with Facebook and we will never spy on you. Come and tell us who matters to you in this world.

That was stage one. Facebook had a surplus — its investors’ cash — and it allocated that surplus to its end users. Those end users proceeded to lock themselves into Facebook. Facebook, like most tech businesses, had network effects on its side. A product or service enjoys network effects when it improves as more people sign up to use it. You joined Facebook because your friends were there, and then others signed up because you were there.

But Facebook didn’t just have high network effects, it had high switching costs. Switching costs are everything you have to give up when you leave a product or service. In Facebook’s case, it was all the friends there that you followed and who followed you. In theory, you could have all just left for somewhere else; in practice, you were hamstrung by the collective action problem. It’s hard to get lots of people to do the same thing at the same time. So Facebook’s end users engaged in a mutual hostage-taking that kept them glued to the platform. Then Facebook exploited that hostage situation, withdrawing the surplus from end users and allocating it to two groups of business customers: advertisers and publishers.

To the advertisers, Facebook said: Remember when we told those rubes we wouldn’t spy on them? Well, we do. And we will sell you access to that data in the form of fine-grained ad-targeting. Your ads are dirt cheap to serve, and we’ll spare no expense to make sure that when you pay for an ad, a real human sees it. To the publishers, Facebook said: Remember when we told those rubes we would only show them the things they asked to see? Ha! Upload short excerpts from your website, append a link and we will cram it into the eyeballs of users who never asked to see it. We are offering you a free traffic funnel that will drive millions of users to your website to monetise as you please. And so advertisers and publishers became stuck to the platform, too.

Users, advertisers, publishers — everyone was locked in. Which meant it was time for the third stage of enshittification: withdrawing surplus from everyone and handing it to Facebook’s shareholders. For the users, that meant dialling down the share of content from accounts you followed to a homeopathic dose, and filling the resulting void with ads and pay-to-boost content from publishers. For advertisers, that meant jacking up prices and drawing down anti-fraud enforcement, so advertisers paid much more for ads that were far less likely to be seen. For publishers, this meant algorithmically suppressing the reach of their posts unless they included an ever-larger share of their articles in the excerpt. And then Facebook started to punish publishers for including a link back to their own sites, so they were corralled into posting full text feeds with no links, meaning they became commodity suppliers to Facebook, entirely dependent on the company both for reach and for monetisation.

When any of these groups squawked, Facebook just repeated the lesson that every tech executive learnt in the Darth Vader MBA: “I have altered the deal. Pray I don’t alter it any further.” Facebook now enters the most dangerous phase of enshittification. It wants to withdraw all available surplus and leave just enough residual value in the service to keep end users stuck to each other, and business customers stuck to end users, without leaving anything extra on the table, so that every extractable penny is drawn out and returned to its shareholders. (This continued last week, when the company announced a quarterly dividend of 50 cents per share and that it would increase share buybacks by $50bn. The stock jumped.)

But that’s a very brittle equilibrium, because the difference between “I hate this service, but I can’t bring myself to quit,” and “Jesus Christ, why did I wait so long to quit?” is razor-thin.

[Thanks Robert Scott Horton]

#Cory Doctorow #enshittification #words and writing #articles #Financial Times #social media

[xxavengingangelxx]

Somewhere Only We Know 5/?

Ok, ya'll! This part is shorter and not as plot-heavy because I've been working non-stop (my husband had me take yesterday, American Thanksgiving, off from work completely) and am still full from Thanksgiving dinner as well as tonight's dinner <3

This is pretty much all smut so you won't see a preview like you usually do because smut starts immediately after the cut. ;) There is a wee little twist at the near end though and I think it's something some of you may like ;)

Val and Graves's relationship deepens in more ways than one the night before a dangerous mission.

MDNI, 18+

Triggers: This chapter is almost porn without plot, explicit sex, I mentioned in the previous chapter about an age gap so there's that, slightly rough sex, nothing too bad

Taglist! @bellgraves, @lily-lily131313, @unicorngirly1, @sharksausages, @shepgurl - if you want in to the taglist, let me know!

It wasn’t too much longer later that night that you found yourself on your knees before Graves. You were entirely nude before him while he was still uniformed. He’d taken his vest and the heavier parts of his gear off but the facts remained the same: he had a kink for seeing you on your knees, nude, and vulnerable in front of him while he sat on his throne, fully clothed and sometimes fully geared.

You were in his office and anyone could walk in couldn’t they? Especially because it was the night before a mission and Shadows tended to be working on pre-mission reports. They also tended to stop by with questions.

But honestly? That just made it hotter.

You took him deeper into your mouth, feeling his hot, thick length on your tongue. His hands were tangled in your hair but they’d lost that edge they used to have. He used to borderline not let you breathe when you sucked him off before. He used to grip your hair so hard you’d get headaches.

His grip was softer.

His cock was not.

You wanted more.

So you relaxed your throat and took him deeper. Deeper than you’d ever taken him in your mouth.

Above you, Graves sputtered and gasped and tightened his grip on your hair. He arched his hips off his seat and further into your mouth. You felt tears in your eyes and you had just a little trouble breathing but you fucking loved it.

But just like that, Graves pulled back, his hot, red cock just inches from your lips.

“I know what you’re doin,” Graves drawled. He looked down on you, his eyes hooded and dark. You could just barely see his blue eyes because his pupils were so dilated.

So you pouted up at him before your lips slightly parted. Your eyelashes were long but heavy with tears from when he was thrusting into your throat. Your knees hurt. But all of that took your focus away from two things that terrified you: Makarov and motherhood. Motherhood with a mercenary as your child’s father, no less.

“Get up, Val,” Graves demanded.

And he dragged you through another door before slamming it shut, the locking sound sending chills through you. So his office had a hidden door to his quarters, who knew. Well you, now.

You were tossed onto the bed and Graves wanted no time in crawling over you. He clearly didn’t mind tasting himself on your lips and tongue because he kissed you while slipping off his uniform shirt followed by taking off his dark undershirt.

Your nails wasted no time in tracing up his ribs, feeling the muscles in his torso. You scratched him, just slightly, and just enough to get him to hiss. He’d long since kicked off his boots, pants, and all other elements of clothing.

While you loved being vulnerable in front of him by being nude while he remain fully clothed, the sight of him naked was a fucking turn on. He was fit, his body tight and taut. He was so much bigger than you. He could easily kill you and for some reason that turned you on even more.

Your world tilted and you suddenly realized you were on top. And that he was buried inside you. You’d been fingering yourself while giving him head because you’d wanted to get off too. You had no idea that being on your knees would turn into this.

“Ride me, sweetheart,” Graves gasped. He was holding back, you could tell, but his hands were tight enough around your hips and thighs that they would leave finger-shaped bruises come morning.

You weren’t used to this, really. You were used to Graves being on top fucking the breath out of you. But you didn’t hate it. He was deeper than you’d ever felt him. Your full weight was settled on his pelvis. You still had room and so you wiggled on top of him, finally feeling him settle against your cervix. Graves moaned underneath you, arching his hips and further tightening his grasp on your hips.

You placed your hands on his chest and moved, riding him like he had so pleasantly asked. You leaned forward, catching his lips with yours, even biting his bottom lip with your teeth just barely so. Your cold dog tags, along with Graves’s dog tags were trapped between your heated bodies, glistening and shining like they were bows labeling you as gifts to each other.

And this was your world and Graves’s world for the next long moments. You moans, groans, and whispered nasty words into each other’s ears. It soon turned into a primal need when you felt yourself pick up the pace. Graves again tightened his grip and his pace combined with yours set up a brutal pace. You could feel him on your cervix and the repeated action of feeling his hot, thick length stretching you, rubbing your walls, and pounding your cervix along with the fingers from his free hand strumming your clit pushed you over the edge.

You cried out but stifled it after only split second. Yes, you’d moved to another black site but you were still nervous about the noises you made during sex behind heard by others. When Graves was on top of you he would either be kissing you, covering you mouth with his hand, or pushing you into pillows to stifle your cries. But tonight you had to reign yourself in.

Graves followed you over the edge not long after he felt you clamp and pulse around him. Graves groaned, muttered your name in a low growl as he held your hips still against him while he throbbed inside you.

You collapsed against him, placing your head on his chest. His heart still thundered away, a side effect of his orgasm.

And then…

Then Graves said something you weren’t expecting. It was something you didn’t know how to respond to.

“I love you,” he rasped, still trying to catch his breath.

Did he mean that or was it just the trauma bond getting stronger? Did Graves, a borderline sociopath, even know what love was? Was he saying this because he knew both of you or one of you might die tomorrow?

And while you didn’t know how to respond, you were terrified of what might happen to you if you didn’t respond in kind. So you responded exactly how you knew he wanted you to.

“I love you,” you echoed.

After the words were said, you realized you kinda did love him.

In a unique kind of way.

-

You tossed and turned that night because you were worried. About a lot of stuff. Would Shadow Company and 141 come to blows when they first saw each other face-to-face? Would they try to take you again?

Hell, what if Shadow Company, Graves, and a military German Shepherd, weren’t enough to keep you safe from Makarov?

#phillip graves #cod mw2 #phillip graves x reader #graves x reader #cod mw3 #longwayfromhome #somewhere only we know

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hey, I'd love a matchup for Castlevania, if you're up for it (was not the person who wrote you those ask anons btw, although I appreciate them clearing things up).

I’m a heterosexual cis woman, although I’m starting to suspect I’m on the asexual spectrum. So, I'd prefer a male matchup. Also not super sure I'd be down with polygamy.

I'm a premed student (no time for irl dating unfortunately 😭). I also work as a volunteer EMS on weekends. Outside of my school and work my hobbies are singing (musical theatre and classical mostly), theatre (backstage work as well as performing), skiing (the only sport I’m any good at) and TTRPGs (was this close to getting my group to play a Castlevania campaign 😔).

I’m also a big nerd about history, American comics, and folklore. I’ll rant for hours about my special interests if nobody stops me. I’d describe myself as ambiverted. I'm socially awkward, but also very loud and expressive. I’m a bit oblivious, I’ll admit lol, but I do my best. My MBTI is ESTJ, and while I doubt MBTI's accuracy, I agree I’m very Type A. When it comes to the things I’m good at, I’m a major perfectionist, but I’m proud of how hard I work. I think my greatest weakness is probably thoughtlessness, but my greatest strength is humility.  My giving love language is acts of service, and my receiving love language is quality time. I'm verbally affectionate towards friends but I freeze like a deer in headlights if somebody flirts with me. Also: I know appearance isn’t super important, but I think it’s important to know I’m only around 5’0 tall. As my friends say, "headpat size."

A/N: Okay for you my PreMed Student Anon (that’s amazing, congratulations by the way!)I have two potential matches in mind. You said you’re heterosexual and would prefer male results, so I chose two from that gender because I honestly couldn’t decide which would please you best. For you, I’m thinking either Dracula or Alucard would be your perfect romantic matchups! (It really does just come down to which man you’d like better: father or son, lol.) 

Dracula (Vlad Tepes), as terrifying as he may be when he decides to enact justice on the human population, is a very reserved and intellectual man. He’s introverted and devoted much of his life to learning about anything and everything from medicine to history to poetry. 

In this instance let’s pretend he’s either never met Lisa or he did meet and fall in love with Lisa but she either lived a full life and died of natural causes, or Dracula was able to overcome the anger and blame he held for humanity following her murder.

Dracula is a patient man. Being immortal means he understands that you must dedicate much of your time to your studies and your volunteer work. So long as the few moments you do get to spend with him are uninterrupted and meaningful, I believe he’d be understanding, and even supportive of your academic endeavors. He was more than happy to aid Lisa in her quest to learn more about biology, so I have no doubt he’d do similarly for you. Any questions you have, he’d gladly answer them. Any resource he has in his castle, any book or scroll, any record of any kind is yours to inspect. He has no doubts that you’re going to make a very accomplished professional one day, and he has every intention of doing whatever it takes to help you get there.

Along with that patience comes an understanding that sex is not the end all be all in life. Sure, it has its place for either pleasure or reproduction but it doesn't need to dominate relationships. If sex is something you're hesitant about, or against having, it doesn't make much difference to him. Dracula would be fine without sleeping with you, so long as he can have you in other ways. Holding you close, holding your hand, sitting next to you in front of a warm fire- those things are what make him feel close to your heart. 

Dracula also enjoys how animated you get when you go on rants about your special interests. He’s very versed in history and folklore as well, although not American comics, so he would listen intently as you teach him all you know. 

As an ESTJ, you would be very grounding for him (an INTJ), while still having a great deal in common. The both of you value an intellectual connection in a relationship while your more empathetic, extroverted side would help push him to see the truth of humanity where he may previously have only seen things in shades of black and white. You both strive for the best, and that suits you just fine with your perfectionism, but do be warned, there may be times you don’t see eye to eye. What you hold as most important in an issue or debate may be different than what he holds. Remember to be patient. INTJs are prone to stubbornness, but being a Type A personality, I do not doubt that you’ll be able to handle any contrary moods of his just fine. 

Your thoughtlessness can also be a source of discourse within the relationship, as Dracula is bound to worry about you. You’re human, you're fragile and under so much pressure. He cares deeply for you and does not want to see you hurt. The one advantage you do have, however, is your humility. It keeps you from being both arrogant and thoughtless which is a much more dangerous combination. So long as you are aware enough of your limits, and keep your wits about you the best you can, Dracula promises to trust you enough to let you come and go as you need to, so long as you’re willing to admit when you need help. But with your best trait being your humility, that shouldn't be a problem. 

Dracula is so touched by your acts of service. Being such an ancient and scary vampire no one ever thought to make him tea or ask if he needed help with anything. He feels so fortunate to have a partner who does not see him solely as ‘Dracula’, Lord of Vampires, but as Vlad Tepes, a man at heart. 

Not to mention your size difference is too adorable for words. He’s so tall and you’re so tiny… He always kneels whenever you ask for a kiss, he’ll never ask you to step on a stool or climb a ladder to reach him. He’s more than happy to come to you. He loves you. You are his new light, his new reason to believe in humanity. 

Alucard (Adrian Tepes) could also be a good match for you! He’s an ambivert like you, although he may not admit it. He’s the son of a scholar and a doctor, so he’s very understanding when it comes to your education and career. And his empathetic nature makes him extremely compatible with your considerate one. 

As Alucard is a dhampir and immortal, this matchup could work in either medieval times or modern times. For the sake of this matchup, imagine whatever you might prefer. 

Alucard hasn’t always had the best experience when it comes to sex. Granted, you can’t judge every potential future experience based on one horrible one, but he’s not the kind of guy who jumps into bed easily. He has reservations and feels very insecure about the whole act. Should he ever engage in it, he’d need a partner who’s very understanding, or just as nervous as he is about the whole thing. In hindsight, I don’t think Alucard would mind not having all that much sex: for him, your continued company means more than any sexual endeavor could. 

Alucard is very impressed with your decision to go into pre med. He knows how much work that means you’re going to be undertaking, and he’ll do whatever he can to support you, either in your studies or in your personal life. He’s very well-read and rather educated on biology as his mother was a physician, so feel free to ask him any questions or have him quiz you before exams. He’s also a bit of an obsessive lover. When he decides he likes someone, he makes a point to memorize that person. (Recall the Trevor and Sypha dolls?) He wants to know what you think and why you think it. That way, he can anticipate your thoughts or needs. 

And he does quite enjoy it when you sing to him, especially if you sing him to sleep. Sleep hasn't always come easy to him, but with your presence and your lovely voice, it’s as if an angel is singing him a lullaby. I also believe Alucard would absolutely thrive playing TTRPG: he’s sarcastic, smart and strategic. I really think he’d dominate any campaign he set his mind to. Plus, it’d be great socialization for him besides you. 

As an ESTJ you’re fairly compatible with Alucard’s INFJ. You’re just extroverted enough to pull him out of his idealistic daydreams, but grounded and predictable enough not to shake his confidence or trust in you/your relationship. The only possible issue is that INFJs can sometimes get caught up in the fantastical destiny of it all: it’s about people and purpose. Whereas ESTJs tend to be a bit more practical- you value reality and stability a bit more than potential and daydreams. But I don’t envision this to be a huge problem, so long as you push communication with Alucard. He internalizes a lot. He’ll need to be reminded to share his inner feelings. So long as you do that, I don’t see any major discourse between you two. 

Alucard may be a little disappointed in your moments of thoughtlessness, but at the same time, he finds them endearing. You try so hard: you’re a perfectionist like he is, and even though you’re only human, you strive for the same greatness. It’s rather admirable. He likes that about you. 

Alucard would also be very touched by your acts of service, mainly because he often finds himself doing the service for others. It’s nice to be taken care of for a change. And he is very happy to spend quality time with you. He’d follow you everywhere if you let him. So long as he’s near you, he feels complete. He’s always leaning down to give you soft forehead kisses whenever you’re around. You’re so precious to him. 

#casltevania x reader #castlevania imagines #castlevania imagine #vlad dracula tepes imagine #alucard imagine #alucard x reader #alucard tepes x reader #alucard tepes imagine #castlevania alucard imagine #castlevania dracula #castlevania #castlevania matchups #matchups

[telekineticseance]

Just letting y'all know I make character playlists in my free time as well. So if y'all wanna check those out here they are. <3 You can also follow me if you’d like on my profile and check out my other playlists as well!

MATTREY CHARACTERS:

JOE YOUNG - ORGAZMO

DAVE THE LIGHTING GUY - ORGAZMO

JOE COOPER - BASEKETBALL

DOUG REMER - BASEKETBALL

ALFERD PACKER - CANNIBAL! THE MUSICAL

TV SHOW CHARACTERS:

EDDIE MUNSON (MORE LIKE HIS MIXTAPE) - STRANGER THINGS

CARMEN BERZATTO - THE BEAR

AZIRAPHALE - GOOD OMENS

CROWLEY - GOOD OMENS

LESTAT DE LIONCOURT - INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE

LOUIS DE POINTE DU LAC - INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE

HORROR MOVIE CHARACTERS:

ASH WILLIAMS - EVIL DEAD

EDWARD SCISSORHANDS - EDWARD SCISSORHANDS

PATRICK BATEMAN - AMERICAN PSYCHO

ART THE CLOWN - TERRIFIER

ERIC DRAVEN - THE CROW

CHAINSHIPPING - SAW

#please stream and enjoy #spotify only sorry apple users #joe cooper #doug remer #joe young #dave the lighting guy #trey parker #matt stone #orgazmo #baseketball #the crow #eric draven #patrick bateman #american psycho #eddie munson #stranger things #edward scissorhands #art the clown #terrifier #ash williams #evil dead #ash vs evil dead #spotify #spotify playlist #carmen berzatto #the bear #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #good omens

[use-your-imagination98]

GH Couples Inspired By Taylor Swift Songs

Had this in my drafts for FOREVER. thought it was a good time to post it haha. 

Alan and Monica: The Last Great American Dynasty

And they said

"There goes the last great American dynasty"

"Who knows if she never showed up, what could've been"

Luke and Laura: My Tears Ricochet

Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe

All the hell you gave me?

'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you

'Til my dying day

Luke and Tracy: Better Man

I know

I’m probably better off all alone

Than needing a man who could

Change his mind at any given minute

Laura and Scotty: New Year’s Day

Please don't ever become a stranger

Whose laugh I could recognize anywhere

Laura and Kevin: Lover

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

Kevin and Lucy: Delicate

This ain't for the best

My reputation's never been worse, so

You must like me for me

Frisco and Felicia: Closure

Yes, I'm doing better

I know that it's over, I don't need your

Closure

Mac and Felicia: Ours

And life makes love look hard

The stakes are high, the water's rough

But this love is ours

Robert and Anna:  It's Nice to Have a Friend

Call my bluff, call you "babe"

Have my back, yeah, everyday

Anna and Valentin: Sparks Fly

My mind forgets to remind me, your a bad idea

You touch me once and it's really something

You find I'm even better than you, imagined I would be

Sonny and Brenda: The 1

But we were something, don't you think so?

Roaring 20s, tossing pennies in the pool

And if my wishes came true

It would've been you

Sonny and Carly: Haunted

​​You and I walk a fragile line

I have known it all this time

Sonny and Alexis: Blank Space

So hey, let's be friends

I'm dying to see how this one ends

Stone and Robin: Sad Beautiful Tragic

We had a beautiful magic love there

What a sad beautiful tragic love affair

Robin and Patrick: This Love

This love is good

This love is bad

This love is alive back from the dead

Lucky and Elizabeth: Tolerate It

While you were out building other worlds, where was I?

Where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire?

I made you my temple, my mural, my sky

Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life

Nikolas and Emily: Happiness

There'll be happiness after you

But there was happiness because of you

Nikolas and Elizabeth: Dress

Our secret moments in your crowded room

They've got no idea about me and you

Ned and Alexis: Stay Stay Stay

You took the time to memorize me

My fears, my hopes and dreams

I just like hanging out with you

All the time

Alexis and Julian: Death By A Thousand Cuts

I get drunk but it's not enough

'Cause you're not my baby

I look through the windows of this love

Even though we boarded them up

LuLu and Dante: Wildest Dreams

Someday when you leave me

I bet these memories

Follow you around

Sam and Jason: It’s Time To Go

15 years, 15 million tears

Begging 'til my knees bled

I gave it my all, he gave me nothing at all

Then wondered why I left

Sam and Dante: Cardigan

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan

Under someone's bed

You put me on and said I was your favorite

Chase and Brook Lynn: Mastermind

Once upon a time, the planets and the fates

And all the stars aligned

You and I ended up in the same room

At the same time

Spencer and Trina: Invisible String

And isn't it just so pretty to think

All along there was some

Invisible string

Tying you to me?

Cameron and Jossyln: Karma

Addicted to betrayal, but you're relevant

You're terrified to look down

'Cause if you dare, you'll see the glare

Of everyone you burned just to get there

Elizabeth and Franco: Red

Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes

Tell myself it's time now, gotta let go

Maxie and Nathan: Enchanted

My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again

These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon

#general hospital #gh #quartermaines #Laura Webber #Luke Spencer #Anna Devane #Robert Scorpio #LnL2 #more GH couples #bored and this came to mind #sprina #naxie #friz #sorry for some bad gif quality #some of these I have STANNED #others are just popular ships