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m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s · 3 years

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hello my lovely goonies :)

tis I, the moon, and i hath returned.

so-

to celebrate perhaps my return and my new idea i came up with for october-

here.

a lovely crosshair fic for you :D

and, starting today, Softober will begin! :DDDD

which is essentially all things soft for the month of October, and though this fic isn’t necessarily “fall themed”, it’s soft :)

and i do apologize for starting a bit late into october, but i do hopefully plan on posting a few drabbles or short little blurbs for the month of Softober :)

so-

without further a do-

enjoy my lovely goonies 🌙☺️💕

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Crosshair x GN!Reader Drabble: It was a secret love of his. One that kept his heart beating while he was away from you. Hands intertwined, roses in rib cages blossoming, and a love so sweet that even the most delicate songs filled both hearts with that silly fluttery feeling.

Genre: Fluff, so much.

Warnings: None, just pure bliss, and roses around your ribcage from that sweet love held for a certain sniper.

Word Count: 936 words, 5,185 characters

*Disclaimer: I do not own anything relating to the Star Wars universe, nor do I own anything relating to the Clone Wars universe. I do not own any characters, places, or things unless they are of my own creation.*

GIF is from @kamino-coruscant

Song: All The Way by Frank Sinatra

(Proofread)

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My heart is like a blooming rose, you see? Budding and blooming from all the love I receive from you. - Moons

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) Roses Twirled Around Ribs (

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The vase was a turquoise blue, one that you would see on the shores of some distant beach. Foamy waters tickling your toes, the air salty, crisp. A sun far on the horizon as you gazed in awe of the apricot sky painted with bubblegum pinks, sunny yellows, and mauve purples.

Your light fixture above the dining room table casted tiny patterns onto the glass surface, making it gleam under the warm hue of the bulbs.

Inside, green, soft stems drank from the water given to them from your sink. Thorns a darker shade than the main stem pricking the sides of the vase. Delicate leaves barely brushing the inside of the glass. Eyes that traveled up the springy sage color, climbing farther, and farther, until-

Red.

It wasn’t quite “red” though.

It was velvet, heavenly to touch against the warm pads of your thumbs. Petals gently turned out towards the sky, curling softly round, and round, until it all met in the middle into a sweet bud.

Crimson, and scarlet. Wined sweetness, and burgundy colored. Ruby for last, twirling around on the inside of the bloom.

You see, it could never just be “red” either.

The fragrance danced throughout your apartment, coating every surface in that sweet scent. Dainty and wonderful, swirling around you and him.

The roses reminded you of him.

The war never left him. It was a constant reminder, a reminder of what he had to do, his duty. The barriers built in his mind, witty and sarcastic to cover his true self. Nightmares never forgotten, memories sometimes painful, while others sparked that sense of humor in his heart.

Warfare was like a thorn. Pricked even the most gentle of souls, making the horrors bleed out on the floor. Ghastly things to look at, but even more ghastly to remember.

It was a stem that showed the soul.

Grown from the beginning, holding bits and pieces of every recollection, every moment. Held and kept inside, laughs to hold onto, and tears to swallow. Knots in throats, lungs gasping for air after a humorous moment so warm, contagious.

Then the bloom. The rose.

He finally had opened up. To you. Letting you peel away the layers of self-doubt and emotional walls. His persona made him seem like that cold, stoic man he had first presented himself as.

He was irrevocably soft in the bloom of the rose.

Gentle. Fingers softly taking yours, knuckles pressed to his lips, leaving that mark of him on your skin. A patience for you. The clock in the hall stilled as the knock reverberated on your door. Seconds slowed, minutes stopped, a smile through the opening.

A patience perhaps for not only you, but for the war as well.

A day to come with a breath that filled your lungs so full, that when you finally exhaled, you could breathe deeply again. Tears that radiated the relief, the peace. A loving show of his internal joy, a kiss- one that would be special.

That patience was one he did not speak of though, yet then again, he never had to.

He was soft, and sweet. Tender kisses and the question for yet another hug from your arms, his tone and affection pulling on that feeling in the back of your head.

A gentleman, really.

Flirty, but classy.

A dancer too.

The roses reminded you of him in a lot of ways, and perhaps the fragrant petals curled out represented the way he had been swaying you around the kitchen when the song had come on.

A hand holding yours, that velvet touch of his thumb against your skin as he rubbed it across your knuckles. Another hand kept around your back, arm holding you flush against him, his ardor that had nestled itself into all the corners of mind, showing in the soft glow of the kitchen.

Your head rested on the warm skin of his neck and shoulder, the mellow breaths exhaled lingering as tickling sensations. His cheek laid against your head, his soft singing reaching your ears. Mumbly and quiet.

“Who knows where the road will lead us? Only a fool would say-”

He would hum when he reached the instrumental parts, the music matching the baritone of his voice.

You still had vegetables in the pan, the heat turned off as you caught the glimpse of the greens, tender and ready to be plated. A dinner that Crosshair cherished when he wasn’t on mission, when he was able to come back to your home.

To his home.

He was still singing in that low whisper, making sure to sing into your ear. The shivers running down your spine at his whisper made his heart fill with that pride that only he could make your spine shiver like that.

So dinner was left to wait.

The roses still drank from the water in the vase. The beautiful bud still extended out to the ceiling of your home, that same sage green stem with pricking thorns. Then again, maybe they twirled and grew out of the vase more than they should.

Wrapping themselves all around you, bones stretched as those sage tendrils flourished around the marrow. Thorns no longer pricking, softened by the feelings of affection in opposite hearts.

Blooms a mix of reds muted to blend with the passion held deep within, a care. Loving and ethereal.

Flowers joining together from separate rib cages, growing into a single flower. A bloom that was kept alive by two lovers, hearts intertwined with the love they shared.

“All the way…”

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taglist: @loth-wolffe @dreamingofclones @ahsokasleftbicep @hellothere-generalangsty @and-claudia @monako-jinn-stories @teletraan-meets-jarvis @kybacrystal @dagobahbound @eyecandyeoz @moonstrider9904 @littlemisscare-all

#this is-#honestly #my favorite fic by far #i just-#so proud of myself :’)#it’s so beautiful and the roses just-#haaaaaaa :’)#ram’ser husband #moony’s writing #clone trooper crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair #bad batch crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #Softober 🌙🎃

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ladylothlorien · 3 years

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You, Not Appearing

Fandom/Topic: Unnamed Pedro Pascal characters that I have plucked from obscurity to do my bidding

Rating: Teen-ish?

Word Count: 1,053

Warnings: angst, unhappy ending, a few spicy memories

A/N: This fic is labeled as “I don’t even know what this is” in my Google docs and I stand by that assessment. Something in my brain connected the Fire Meets Gasoline music video with the Hope video (both links courtesy of @dornish-queen) and thought what if it was the same character in both videos. Un-beta’d but I agonized over it for a long time. Title is a play on You, Appearing by M83 that plays during the Hope video. Credit to gif owner. Happy Valentine’s Day?

It’s been seven days. He knows because he found a tube of her lipstick in his leather travel bag on the first day and he’s been using it to mark each day on the mirror in the tiny bathroom. If not for these Crimson Rose streaks, each day would be interchangeable. Wake up, pick up the phone, ring ring ring ring ring ring, put down the phone, look outside, open the door, (it’s housekeeping asking with increasing annoyance if they can please clean the room; it’s a family of five barreling down the corridor in a swirl of chaotic activity; it’s a bald man sweating through a cheap suit as he keeps his gaze firmly on the ground; it’s no one at all), close the door, repeat, repeat, repeat, make a mark on the mirror, drink until passing out.

He tries to fill his time with getting dressed up to varying degrees of outrageousness. If someone asked, he’d shrug and say what’s the point of having such glamorous clothes if you never wear them? If she asked, he’d say he’s trying on different personas for the next con, even though he’s not sure what (or when) (or if) the next con will be. Part of him hopes that when he opens the door, she’ll be standing there and she’ll say something like “what on earth are you wearing?” with an affectionate laugh as she glides into the room, instantly filling it with her bright smile and banishing all of the lonely empty corners. Each time he opens the door, he’s disappointed. And no one asks.

He’s rechecked the phone number what feels like a million times (he hasn’t counted because he doesn’t really want to know), but it just rings and rings until he gives up. He counted the rings on the first day, feeling sure that something must end them other than his replacing the receiver. He stopped counting at fifty and hasn’t counted again. Still, his palms are sweaty each time he presses the buttons and sliding them down his thighs has become a part of the ritual to try to calm his nerves as he tries to hold out for as many rings as possible (it only sort of works). He idly wonders if the motel will bill him even if the calls are never picked up. What he wouldn’t give to go to voicemail.

He never really thinks about it, what he did. Sometimes the hot brick pavement outside the motel check-in brings to mind another brick stained red, but he pushes it away with a terse it was self-defense. He pays no mind to the thoughts creeping around this explanation, pricking through it with sharp thorns called unarmed, thief, and murder. Instead he tries to think about those golden days of chasing her around the farmhouse, her laughter turning to moans of pleasure as he dragged his lips across her skin. In these memories, he knows they whispered all sorts of promises and adorations, but he can’t remember the words so it’s like a film reel with indistinct audio.

He doesn’t know how long to wait. After his confession and the fire, they peeled out of town as fast as they could, the cherry rose satchel safely tucked between them (he called it conspicuous but she said only if you don’t dress the part). She kissed his neck as they drove away: Clyde and his Bonnie, together until whatever end. Two days later, she raced back into the luxurious hotel room they had treated themselves to after going to get ice (oh the plans he had for those ice cubes against her hot skin), telling him in a panic that she thinks she was recognized. There was no calming her down; she started throwing things into her enormous silver weekender bag and he could only match her panicked energy and throw things into his brown leather travel bag too.

“Maybe we should split up.” She said as they pass a mile marker. He wishes he remembered which one.

“What?!” His breathing was ragged, panic rising up in his throat.

She flinched with the unexpected vehemence of his reaction. “I mean, just for a while. They’ll be looking for us to be together, right? If we’re not together, it’ll make it harder for them to find us.”

What was there to say? It made a certain sense; isn’t that what they always did in those heist films he loved as a kid? Split up until the heat was off and the diamonds (it was always diamonds) could be safely sold. But… “You said we’d never split up.”

She rolled her eyes, but tried to hide it. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

He didn’t say anything. He wishes now he had said something.

At the next suitably large town, she got on a bus after explaining the plan to him again. He watched her get on the bus (his wouldn’t leave for another 45 minutes) and thought it sounded like a math problem: if bus A is going to Dallas travelling at 60 mph and bus B is going to Indianapolis travelling at 65 mph, then when will they meet in Jacksonville?

She said he would get to the motel first and to use the agreed upon pseudonym (not Clyde Barrow, for Christsake you can’t use that one it’s too obvious). He did everything she said. Still, sometimes he racks his brain to remember what she said in case he forgot something.

He sits by the pool in his most outrageous outfit yet: a cardinal red suit with a tiger print shirt, his hair slicked back and glistening. It’s an alarm bell of an outfit with no one to hear it, least of all the person it’s intended for (is it for her? still?). He wanders around the motel, unsure of what he’s really looking for. Someone to notice him and remind him he exists? To recognize him and call the police? No one does.

He gave up smoking because she didn’t like the taste on his lips. He wonders if taking it up again will conjure her.

In the end, it is fourteen. As he is dragging the blood red lipstick across the mirrored surface, it snaps with the force of his realization.

He doesn’t have the satchel.

#my writing #fanfic #pedro pascal #fire meet gasoline #hope video by michael michael #what even is this #but I haven't written anything in a long time so I'll take inspiration where I can get it

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years

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Puppet Strings

Please don’t police the shit out of me for this one (I’ve read and seen all of what’s happening in Tumblr with the talented authors 😭😫---either way, I DGAF if I get judged for writing this. Y’all are getting this for free. LMAO. Welcome to my freakin’ kinky world. 😭

MASTERLIST

Characters: Stephen Colley x Reader

Summary: You’ve had Stephen wrapped around your finger by using your family’s kindness to your advantage---keeping him guilty and complying over whatever wishes you wanted---he was giving it due to your manipulative, cunning persona. You were being head-over-heels for him that made you have your reasons, thinking that being the way you are was fine for your strong obsession.

Warnings: NSFW 18+ Manipulative reader. Obsessed reader. This is quite dark for me because she’s using our puppy to her benefit (somehow?)---using Stephen as if he’s her boy toy. Spitting. Sub!Stephen. Porn with a plot. (Though, this was planned to only be porn without a plot LMAO) Dub-con. Exhibitionism. Angst? Thirsty ass reader. Not connected to the plot of the movie.

Words: 3,810+

A/N: I didn’t know what happened that this ended up this way. Please don’t judge my soul for this.I was all ‘oh my baby stephen’ to writing this filthy shit. Also, Stephen’s 20 in this and the reader is 19, okay? So, legal. (In my country it is) ENJOY, FILTHY LADIES! This made me pout because of how soft Stephen is and the reader is quite...Eh. 😭 I think this will be a 3-5 part fic. Heehee. Or maybe not----lmao. We’ll see.

Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS PART! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB!

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and this fanfic is definitely from moi.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

THE SMELL OF BLUEBELLS WAS ARDENT AND SWITH, it's scent thoroughly withstanding and wafting through your nose with the odor of sweat. Stephen's earthy and musk scent adding more stimulation to what was being given down south and around the canvas of your breasts.

An ample amount of slime trailed a path from the swell of your knockers through the meander of your neck, feeling a pair of soft, delicate lips having its way and paving to have a suck; thrilled and exploratory over giving you a mark that you surely ordered him around to.

You've felt the tiny nibbles on your neck, feeling full over being filled by the cock of your family's lackey who happened to be under your manipulative, presumptuous fingers. Stephen was having his way with you, as he was commanded to do so in the middle of harvesting crops; all sweaty, dirty and masking in his domestic labor as your fingers hooked along his belt hoops, pulling him away from the field towards a veiled place where bluebells were filled.

The first time you've had sex with Stephen, he was beyond hesitant. His rosy cheeks fueled as if it was on fire from the moment you've asked him for more of his services; to be the one to take your virginity rather than a rich, middle aged man who had terrible mustaches that crept the heck out of you.

Stephen and his pure innocence understood your favors of help by wanting him to accompany you in the city while you buy things for yourself or stuff that your mother asked to buy.

Much to your dismay for his lack of apprehension, It wasn't the type of aid you were asking for.

How pretty his face flushed a lot more from how you've frankly told him that you needed a different type of assistance to satisfy that curiosity of yours made you giggle, the desire pooling more in the pit of your stomach, filling in the prurient passion as if it was enough to stimulate you.

Stephen Colley was utterly pretty, beyond God's work as he was sculpted with a face of a Greek God as people have been saying. Your family even admiring God's work of art by how he was created; enough to be painted and inspired to be sculptured in the museums. He was the first boy in your fantasies and the only one that could make you breathe deep breaths in between rubbing the itch in your mound as you explored your body by yourself that nobody ever had yet.

He was your fantasy. The boy in your dreams that you would gladly want to have in your life for years end.

After welcoming the afterglow of an orgasm, such debauched thoughts came into your head in the same time you've wanted to rub onto that button again for thinking about him.

You were going to have him. You wanted him, you've mindlessly convinced yourself. Stephen was a plague that could infect your precious little mind---the facade of an innocent, kind and shy sweetheart that your family has been seeing from you was ruined when you've reached puberty.

It wasn't helping that Stephen walked around the house with clothes that you surely want to ruin. Your mind being influenced by your older sister's experiences with men and how her sex life have been.

She was a wild one and deep inside---no matter how much you tell yourself that it was a deed that people respectfully hold onto, the untamed part of you wanted to experience it with the boy who had adorable rosy cheeks and a gorgeous accent that could make you gush.

Being in line with the heavens, you were lucky Stephen was quite naive despite being a year older than you and with all the plans you had inside your head, being manipulative and guilt-tripping him till he would obey was the only answer for him to accept your offers because the boy was beyond nice and respectful, innocent---delicate as he may seem in being a rose without thorns amongst the bundle of daisies growing along the field.

You weren't his first to be honest; hearing that he had his virginity taken by a lady when he was taking a trip to the city, the woman being older than him and enamored by his beauty, she was very pretty as Stephen saw her the first time---growing a little crush before the lady has offered him a night filled with pleasure, leaving him alone the next morning and a ton of cash that has left him heartbroken by expecting a number or a sweet filled morning with her.

Was this obsession you had for Stephen? you couldn't tell while having the luck of being boffed by him no matter how tentative he may been. The phrase you've been telling whenever he was reluctant held a powerful will for making him capitulate over your wishes.

'You're working for us---I'm your miss. Shouldn't you always follow what I have to say, Stephen?'

Guileful and conniving for you, but you've had no other choice especially when you've heard your sister gossip about how he was starting to take a liking over a girl across the neighborhood, the lady living in a castle---going way back with him and her family because they've known each other since they were kids until they've moved away and came back to their hometown.

Cassandra. That was her name. It was a name that should be left forgotten in Stephen's mind.

Your boy shifted in between your opened legs, your dress hiked up and his trousers unbuttoned; stopping on the end of his derriere as he stuck his swollen cock inside your tight folds, kissing and licking along your throat and breasts that had you mewling beneath him.

Begging him to take you in the middle of the grass to relieve that fantasy only he could satisfy, you've laid beneath him and promised that he could take his time and do whatever he pleases. Exploring every inch and depth of your body with your dress being in a bunch and unfastened by Stephen. Today, you've just wanted to feel him, touch him and let him be inside you because of certain feelings that can't be resisted.

He was patiently taking his time, both of you basking in the afternoon glow before dusk and never bringing in a gas lamp before night even arrives. Stephen was licking your taut nub, his mouth close to your nipple as his hot breath was fanning along his own saliva, bringing pleasure and satisfaction. Another weak whimper erupted from your mouth, watching his eyes closed; tongue darting out to flick your other hardened nipple before deeply moaning out his approval as he devoured your breasts with a tight, strong suck.

The lewd action was enough to make your spine and toes curl.

You've flexed your cunt, tightening around his girth and you've heard him lowly groan with your nipple in his mouth. He immediately pulled his mouth off your breasts with a pop. Innocent, lust-filled baby blues stared above you, the flicker in his eyes asking and waiting for your next behest.

"Stephen," was the only word you managed to croak out, sounding like you were being choked as you felt him slowly pull out of your thirsty cunt. He leaned his head to the left, dipping his head and giving you a kiss which caught you off-guard; it was plain and enough to take your mind off his throbbing cock that has slithered in. After being explored by his mouth on your body, Stephen's lips that landed on you to give a peck surely felt unfamiliar because you both rarely do share kisses in the midst of intercourse.

His crimson colored lips on yours felt divine. The sudden smooch probably involuntary in his part because of how sexually intimate you were being with him. You've swallowed the moan forming in your throat by feeling him wholly pull out, moaning and whining from the lack of imbue and by forcing yourself not to have your way with his lips---wanting nothing but to dance your mouth with his.

You knew this was a one-sided affection and he didn't entirely adored you like how you do for him.

Your fingers gripped onto the grass on either side, it traveled and clasped around Stephen's neck that felt balmy beneath the pad of your fingers. Drops of perspiration smoothening out as you watched him pant above you, breathless and in a daze. His cheeks turning rosier and crimson from such scabrous act you've brought him in.

He was heavy and scathing on your thigh. His hand grabbing onto the growing base of his throbbing, uncut, hard cock as he looked between you both, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he was feeling his cock on his hands, fingers enclosing around his girth to give it one jerk that made you salivate.

His neck was sweating, drops of perspiration falling along his temples and to distract yourself, you've darted your tongue out to sweep the sweat off his face, catching him off guard that made him throatily groan and cast you a look, his eyes withdrawn and thoroughly focused on what taboo you tried to help him be accustomed with.

The place you decided to be ravished on was rather risquè but also getting you more thrilled to know that your sister knew this spot as a location you always spend time with whenever you were reading. You've heard tiny shuffling of bushes which made Stephen look away and observe whoever that was with his eyebrows knotted together---distracting him and pushing the worry away just like you always do, you've quietly whispered in his ear.

"Put that cock in me, Stephen. Please,"

At the sound of you pleading, it was enough to pull his thoughts away from being concerned over your family catching you both in such a raunchy moment. Their daughter laid amongst the land, being ravished by their worker who they've trusted for all their heart---a boy whom they didn't expect to be salaciously connected with you.

The both of you were in for a tough scolding if caught.

Pointing the head of his cock in your entrance, he'd swiftly drove in. You were wet enough for him to slip inside with the right tightness of your cunt that pushed him to grunt as he filled you in one go. Your back curled from the penetration, the thirst for sexual gratification being answered by Stephen when he started to thrust his hips, experimenting over the pace that could make you moan around his arms before pummeling like how he wanted to.

"Oh yeah---yeah---yes, just like that," you've choked in your own moans and pleasure, licking your lips and watching how he was defiling your cunt with his cock, your slick moisturizing his---the filthy sound of your juices coating his, thrusting in and out of your folds; becoming music to the sound of insects probably watching how you were both sending each other raptures.

Stephen knew how thrilled you were becoming by the audible sound of how filthy he was making you feel. Being aware of the obscene sound whenever he tries to fasten the pace, slowing down to let you both appreciate the erotic sense of debauchery has gotten you biting your lip up at him.

You were his miss and whatever you wanted was his job to give.

He'd slip a hand in between you, the pad of his thumb finding your clit and when he did, Stephen started rubbing that throbbing nub of yours in rough, circular motions making your core jerk, your hips chasing his hand with each thrust he gives; entirely accepting and embracing the sheer pleasure he was giving.

Your boy was deeply grunting with each shove of his hips, his cock befouling your scheming soul and you were loving every moment---cherishing the sounds he create that only you could muster.

Only you, not Cassandra---not anyone.

In the midst of such onslaught and currently trapped in your own bliss, you've never took heed of Stephen panting out your name; thinking that he was bemoaning his desperation for continuously prodding your hole in a greedy pace, his carping had a flicker of perturbation in his diluted, lust-filled baby blues as he tried to catch your attention.

"Miss---Miss," Stephen couldn't stop his smutty assaults. Too concentrated on reaching both of your highs as he peered down at you with his peepers growing larger when he heard your name being called from afar; being an echo of warning that what you were both caught up with was utterly unchaste.

"---your family---ugh---they're seeking for you," he grunted with every word and plunge; his pace never stopping and his fingers reaching further down to polish your clit. Your leak being spread all over your folds as he licked his lips, admiring how you were writhing beneath his body---how you reacted to his ministrations.

Their voices echoed from afar, alerting you both that they were closer than you imagined them to be. It was the dead of the night already, the time after nightfall as you both welcomed the sins of passion that you have gotten Stephen to be involved in again. Being in the shadows of the night, the moment was easier to covert from your family as you laid to satisfy your mania. The ruffle of grass being stepped on repeatedly actually has been the sound of Stephen ardently violating your cunt along the land of dew.

You've both turned your heads to see light coming from the far distance. A buzz of incomprehensible words of unknown from your sister who was mindlessly telling her hunches as to where you both went; remembering that Stephen was also not around for her to ask if he could buy stuff around town because it was already night time.

"Oh, yes!---don't mind them!---just do me,"

He slowed down his pace, skeptical over being caught but never stopping his thrusts while his features turned conflicted over being dubious and also feeling like he was floating for the twist of elation written on your face from his drives. You've grabbed onto his hair, roughly turning his head to face yours as he loudly grunted and groaned above you, the sound made you slip a finger on his lips to shush his moans.

"You're not going to get caught---we're not going to get caught. Just stifle your moans. You can do that. You're a good boy---our good boy and you'll make me cum, right?"

The whispers you've managed to slip past your lips made him stare down at you, understanding what you were trying to point out and it has not been seconds before he'd nodded before you, starting his relentless pace that made you sigh as he was trying to build up your orgasm again, grabbing onto your ankle and hooking it around his hip as he continued to forge himself in you; his breath hitting your face with every push---grunts being uncontrolled from the actions.

You've heard a twig break from behind, not wanting Stephen to be distracted---you've grabbed onto his face and forced him to look at you; your heart beat never ceasing to run fast whenever he stares into your eyes. The fast heart beat also being the cause of your orgasm coming.

He'd shifted in between you, your hips bucking to meet every thrust he offered. Mewling out lewd moans whenever he hits that spot that felt so heavenly. Reaching for his hand, you've guided him back to where he has been flicking---your clit that he immediately rubbed on as you were approaching your high.

Loud, rough grunts came from his throat, feeling his own coming as your cunt gripped him hard for the sounds he was creating. Your mouth and face contorted in sheer pleasure when you've violently thrashed against his hold. Stephen's unconscious response was to grab onto you, keeping you closer to his lean, muscular body---a wiry sculpted body from all the hard work that he does for your family; convulsing in his arms as you gushed around his penetrative cock.

Rambunctious ugh's came from the both of you, especially from your boy who was in the midst of coming. Your sensitive cunt was jolting as Stephen went on in propelling himself, his face of bliss bringing you ecstacy as it was hot for a beautiful face to be debauched like that. You've forgotten your family who was in search for you when he wholly pulled out just in time for him to spill his warm seed over your torso, his load shooting out in spurts as he breathed heavily above you.

You've both shared silence after a moment of paradise. As a habit you've held Stephen accountable, he'd delicately held onto your jaw with his calloused fingers, pinching them together to set forth over opening your mouth. It was an understanding and idea that you told him about after an act of pleasure. He was against the idea at first before you've basically convinced him that there would be no moment as if you were being degraded. But, he somehow has become used to it after quite some time.

Besides, it was one of your wishes. His miss surely needed to have it when she wants it.

Gradually opening your lips, Stephen has lined his mouth on you. Drawing down a line of spit and aiming to shoot it inside; thoroughly not bothered about the fact of it already as he spat inside your mouth, making you grin as he gathered his spilled cum on your torso with a finger, slipping them inside your vermillion, his eyes in a daze as he concentrated over the mouth that has sucked on his cream-filled fingers---swallowing the mixture of his saliva and release like it was food for your tainted soul.

He certainly didn't expect you to be ribald and deceptive from such a religious family---But, considering your sister and her liberated moments, maybe it was probably in the blood.

"Was it how you liked it today?" he simply acknowledged, tone curious over the fact of being caught by your family was thrilling you which is why you've dragged him along the meadow while he was working, asking him for a quick frigging in a deserted, furtive space.

Stephen helped you wear your dress after snapping his breeches back, keeping himself decent. He still wore his white, dirt-filled tank top. Slipping over his suspenders on his shoulders, the latter remained sitting on the grass as you stood up. The expression on his face mixed with a look of a puppy who was blushing under the moon light, his hair utmost unkempt and clothes looking rumpled as if he had a wild night.

"It was everything, Stephen." you softly muttered, flattening the stresses of your dress with the back of your hand, erasing any proof or evidence that you had a nooky with your family's beautiful helper. A sigh left your lips as the ache of thirst was probing your spine, yearning for more than once today.

"---But, can you do me one more favor?"

"Anything, Miss Y/N."

Stephen waited and watched for your response, seeing you ogling at his beauty as he sat silently, catching sight of those suggestive flicker of your eyes under the night.

You've knelt before him, having your height differences obvious from how you tried being eye to eye as he was still taller than you. He'd simply studied your face, changing into an expression that he wouldn't get to reject---not that he ever does because he had no other choice but to follow what you wanted because you were still his patron.

"Can you visit my chambers after dinner?"

He was quick to become uncertain over the service being asked. His thoughts hastily going to what happened in the middle of fornication a while ago; the risk of being exposed by your family for what you both decided to tumble through the afternoon, "But, Miss---"

His protests were cut short when you've distracted him with a delicate kiss to the lips, using it to your advantage as it left seeing him swallowing his apprehension down in the pit of his stomach. Kissing you back with a soft peck that got you sighing when he pulled away to wait for your answer, his complains never being risked to be told. Currently disoriented from the kiss you've given him out of the blue and from the feeling of being confused over what he should feel for letting you have him explicitly.

"My family won't be awake in the middle of the night,"

"Would...you wish to be ravished again?" he understood what you wanted. Another part of his services that he only gives you because you were artful enough to manipulate him into thinking that the idea was fine---that giving you his body and soul was fine.

Stephen had his utmost respect for everyone in your family because he was thankful for them to be employed in the household. Which is why he was even helping you in this part of favor that he surely could have no say about.

"Yes. Can I have you for the night?---I need you tonight,"

He gave a small smile, his fingers reaching for a couple of bluebells from behind. Completely helpless to be under your demands, "If you are in need of it, then I suppose it is fine. Will it help you sleep at night?" the latter slipped the flower behind your ear, his beam so precious with a soul valuable enough to be exploited or influenced by your manipulative ploys.

"Yes---Yes, it does. It'll keep me in deep slumber rather than sleeping like I never have slept at all,"

"---Then you can have me again if you want to---all night if you wish so,"

You've let him tuck the flower, appreciating how handsome and charming he sweetly smiled when you've taken his fingers and kissed every pad of it.

"Thank you, Stephen. You're amazing,"

"Anything for you, Miss."

There will be no place for Cassandra or any other women in his mind. You were determined to swarm his thoughts with only you---where he would worship no other woman nor let him have the desire to feel pleasure over others. From the moment he came into your lives, you've already marked him as your person when you were younger; having this toxic affection for him from the moment you've seen his sweet, seraph face. His personality and characteristics being adding more to your fixation when he was so kind to be gullible---fastening him in a physical-venereal connection that would aid to your benefit.

Stephen Colley was only yours and a puppy---your puppy that you would gladly take care of forever even if it means to be the bad guy in the house.

So, what’s cooking? LMAO. Leave feedbacks to give me power to write the second part. HA!

General taglist for Henry and his characters: @agniavateira, @iloveyouyen, @rahdaleigh, @silverkitten547, @henrythickcavill, @kaatelyyynn

#Stephen Colley #stephen colley smut #stephen colley x reader #i capture the castle #henry cavill #henry cavill smut #muse: stephen colley #hc #henry cavill characters #stephen colley x you #stephen colley x y/n #henry cavill masterlist #henrycavill #henry #seb-owns-these-tatas

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junghelioseok · 3 years

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attraction tag 💜

🌻 tagged by my lovely friends @kpopfanfictrash, @hobidreams, @underthejoon, and @lcksndkys!!! thank you, loves 💕

🌻 rules: post 8-9 people you're very attracted to.

🌻 i sat down to do this and suddenly forgot every single piece of media i’ve ever consumed. who am i into? idk!!! it’s a mystery! here are some, though 🤣

🌻 tagging: whoever wants to do this!

jung hoseok

who even am i if i don’t start with hobi? he is every inch the man of my dreams and the kind of person i aspire to be. i love that he’s a bit of a neat freak. i love that he serves as sort of a second leader to the group, even if it’s so often overlooked because of his energetic public persona. hoseok strikes me as someone who is endlessly kind and compassionate and empathetic, who strives to be his best self while also lifting up others. and this goes without saying, but he’s an incredible dancer. plus, his duality? squishy cheekies with a jaw that could cut glass? pretty, delicate wrists and fingers vs. his smoldering intensity onstage? insane. he’s insane. he’s beautiful and insane, and the way i adore this man, for real 🥺

jeon jungkook

this damn 23yo is out to ruin my life and It Is Working!!! jungkook was a bit of a slow burn for me, but one day i woke up and he’d grown into his nose and up in general and i was??? frankly? offended by how obscenely attractive he is. and now that he’s getting tattoos and piercings and experimenting with his hair? BYE. begone, demon!!!

but seriously, it’s been a treat watching jungkook grow. i love that he’s so much more confident in himself now. i love his chaotic energy and his undying love for food. he truly has such an endearing personality, and so many cute little quirks. his little stutter and slight lisp? the way his upper lip disappears when he laughs really hard? his instinct to clap at everything? the way he zones out sometimes? and i haven’t even mentioned how infuriatingly good he is at almost everything he tries!

min yoongi

this man is a dreamboat. look at him!!! look at that smile!!! the fact that he could cook me dinner and build me a table to eat it off of??? very sexy of him!!!

in all seriousness though, i love that we’re privy to yoongi’s soft, dorky side much more these days. i love that we get to see multiple sides of him, from agust d to squishy, gummy smile yoongi who can’t say no to the maknae line. he’s so quietly, steadfastly caring and kind. and his talent (rapping, songwriting, producing, etc.) speaks for itself.

tom hiddleston

i, like most others, fell in love with tom’s loki, but stuck around for his superb acting in other ventures as well (speaking of which, i need to find a way to finish watching crimson peak). this man has the kind of voice that i could listen to all day. he could read me the dictionary. he could recite to me a list of world leaders in alphabetical order. he could find a phone book, present it to me as a bedtime story, and i’d listen raptly. that’s how mesmerizing he is. also? the shallow part of me just wants to say, he looks great in a suit, LOL.

benedict cumberbatch as sherlock holmes

oh, sherlock. i think i’ve seen most modern portrayals of this character by this point, and bananasplit cucumberpatch’s is undoubtedly my favorite (so long as i ignore the abysmal last season). i often think about how many lines he had to memorize for the role, and it never fails to wow me. the little tics and mannerisms he brought to the character! the dramatic coat! the hair! the scarf! it’s all excellent.

sebastian stan as bucky barnes

captain america: the winter soldier is hands down my favorite marvel movie, and sebastian stan’s bucky is a big part of that. and yes, i know this gif is from the first avenger but look at that smile! look at the jaunty tilt of his hat! then they gave him a metal arm and a villainous edge paired with a tragic backstory, and i was sold, lmao. plus, i just finished the falcon captain america and the winter soldier, and the character development there was just *chef’s kiss*

michael b. jordan as erik killmonger

everything about this character and performance hit me hard. michael b. jordan has always been on my radar as “wow, he has a really nice face” but i honestly hadn’t seen him in anything memorable prior to black panther. but now that i have, i need more. i would love to see more of what killmonger’s life was like growing up, and how he became a navy seal and eventually a black ops mercenary. i should also watch more of michael b. jordan’s stuff in general. one of these days, i’ll get around to it!

james marsters as spike

teenage me would’ve loved spike, had i actually had the time/resources to watch buffy then. luckily, with the advent of streaming and buffy being on hulu, it turns out that adult me loves him too. 🤣 i so thoroughly enjoy his portrayal as spike, throughout both btvs and angel. the character growth and development was truly so fun to watch. and the accent! the snark! the poetry!!! the way he loves with such passion and loyalty, even as a soulless vampire! i’m basic and i love a good bad boy, what can i say? are we seeing a theme? 😅

#spike feels like he's just tacked on LOL like here's bts here's marvel and oh here's spike #🤣🤣🤣#tag game

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multiedits · 4 years

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Don't swear at us if you don't like the result, it's not always easy, we can do something different for you if you want

Your limit of requests during the period before they are closed is three, but please put it all in one question

We make:

🌈 Moodboards / Aesthetics (You can also choose: Colored or Transparent background)

🌈 Image Boards (Yes, pls if u mean this Moodboard then you need call it that)

🌈 Icons/Reply Icons

🌈 GIF icons

🌈 Stimboards

🌈 Wallpapers / Board Wallpapers

🌈 Headers

🌈 Instagram Boards

🌈 Layouts

🌈 Glitters

🌈 Stamps

🌈 Blinkies

🌈 Graphics

🌈 Userboxes

What we do:

✅ We make things with characters. We can also make a not characters things, for example, just some things by color or category. You can also suggest a style and color for things (for example: can I ask to make a moodboard (character) in orange, pink and black colors; can you make the character's aesthetic sad/fun?). We also do something based on your headcannons

✅ We can make several or two characters in the same things (with any themes)

✅ We make ship things

✅ We make AU things

✅ You can also choose the icon shape

✅ We make pride things

✅ We make Wallpapers for all devices

✅ Crossovers things

✅ OC's things

Blacklist:

(Feel free to tell us about something problematic)

Characters:

Suguru Kamoshida (Persona)

Haiji Towa; Monaca Towa (Danganronpa)

Marty Armstrong (Lisa RPG)

Professor Pyg; Victor Zsasz; Arthur Fleck (DC)

Hisoka Morow; Illumi Zoldyck (Hunter x Hunter)

Jack (Underworld Office)

Jared (Doll Eye)

Belle; Beast; Gaston (Beauty and The Beast)

Nanami Kiryuu (Revolutionary Girl Utena)

William Afton; Michael Afton; Nightmare Freddy; Nightmare Chica; Nightmare Foxy; Nightmare Bonnie; Nightmare Fredbear; Plushtrap; Nightmare; Nightmare Balloon Boy; Nightmare Mangle (Five Night's at Freddy's)

Kakashi Hatake; Jiraya (Naruto)

All "Wonder Killers"; Shuichiro Sawaki; Frill; Dot; Hyphen; Kirara (Wonder Egg Priority)

Black Hanekawa (Monogatari)

Moonfish (Boku no Hero Academia)

Alessi; Funny Valentine; Sports Maxx (JoJo's Bizzare)

Kevin Thompson (Daria)

Prince Phillip; Aurora (Sleeping Beauty)

Ariel; King Triton; Prince Eric (The Little Mermaid)

Prince Florian (Snow White and the Seven Dwarves)

Tate Langdon (American Horror Story)

Archie Andrews (Riverdale)

Marty McFly (Back to the Future)

Margaret Robinson; Hobo; Jealousy; Kenneth; Lucy Simian; Mr. Yoshida; Alison Sandra Gator (The Amazing World of Gumball)

Mr. Labrador (Peppa Pig)

Felix Kranken (The Walten Files)

Lynera Skalbi (Hiveswap)

Daki (Kimetsu no Yaiba)

Selever; Garcello; Sky; Tabi (Non-canon! Friday Night Funkin)

Real People's / YouTuber's etc. (Characters from Movies/Series it's okay)

Sources:

Simpsons

Creepypasta

American Dad

Killing Stalking

South Park

The Office

Vivziepop Media's

Bojack Horseman

Porkchop and Flatscreen

Family Guy

Country Humans / Country Balls

A large Number of Horrors (Ask if we are Comfortable with Someone, before requesting)

SCP's

Attack on Titan

Wizard of Oz (1939 film, all others WOZ sources is ok!)

Something that contains Minecraft materials (like Aphmau, Dream SMP, Minecraft Story Mode, etc., Only canon Minecraft game and Minecraft Earth)

Saya no Uta

Films about Real Wars

Fanganronpa's (It's not include YTTD)

GTA

Future Dairy

Hetalia

"Yaoi/Yuri" mangas

Obey Me

Happy Tree Friends

Yarichin Club

Camp Camp

Boyfriend to Death

The Magnus Archives

Magical Emi, the Magic Star

Senran Kagura

Magical Angel Creamy Mami

Persia the Magic Fairy

Elfen Lied

LapFox Trax

Crush Crush

Alien 9

Eddsworld

The Midnight Gospel

Love Letter

The Arcana

Nekopara

Citrus

Yandere Simulator

Crimson Gray

Ships:

(All here okay if it's platonic or other)

King Dedede x Anyone (Kirby)

Poison Ivy x Males; Harley Quinn x Joker or Batman; Streaky x Anyone; Someone from Red Lanterns corps x Anyone; B'Dg x Anyone (DC)

Junko Enoshima x Anyone; Tenko Chabashira x Males; Byakuya Togami x Toko Fukawa; Hifumi Yamada x Anyone; Teruteru Hanamura x Anyone; Ultimate Imposter x Anyone; Someone from "Warrior's of Hope" x Anyone; Toko Fukawa x Komaru Naegi; Hiyoko Saionji x Anyone (Danganronpa)

Jasper x Lapis Lazuli; Steven Universe x Spinel; Emerald x Someone from "Off Colors" team; Yellow Diamond x someone who's not Blue Diamond; Blue Diamond x someone who's not Yellow Diamond; Fluorite x Anyone; Fusions x Fusions with same characters (Steven Universe)

Courage x Anyone; Eustace Bagge x Anyone; Muriel Bagge x Anyone (Courage the Cowardly Dog)

Tails the Fox x Rouge the Bat or Wave the Swallow; Dr. Eggman x Anyone; Scourge the Hedgehog x Anyone; Metal Sonic x Anyone who's not Robot (Sonic the Hedgehog)

SpongeBob x Anyone Who's not Patrick (SpongeBob SquarePants)

Lemon Demon x Anyone; Ships with Skid and Pump; The Mom x Anyone who's not The Dad; The Dad x Anyone who's not The Mom; Boyfriend x Anyone who's not Pico or Girlfriend (Friday Night Funkin)

Bakugo Katsuki x Izuku Midoriya, Ochako, Camie; Eijirou Kirishima x Females (Boku no Hero Academia)

Boss x River or Eugene (Underworld Office)

Yoshi x Anyone; Bowser x Anyone; Donkey Kong x Anyone (Super Mario)

Bill Cipher x Anyone; Dipper x Wendy; Mabel x Pacifica or Wendy; Stan x Anyone; Ford x Anyone (Gravity Falls)

Zim x Dib or Tak or GiR; GiR x Anyone; Dib x Zim or Tak; Tak x Zim; MiMi x Anyone; 2k x Palindrome; Zib x Anyone (Invader Zim)

Inosuke x Zenitsu; Zenitsu x Nezuko (Kimetsu no Yaiba)

Gregg x Anyone who's not Angus; Angus x Anyone who's not Gregg (Night in the Woods)

Kaoru Kurita x Anyone who's not Momoe Sawaki (Wonder Egg Priority)

Kristoph Gavin x Anyone; Alita Tiala x Anyone; Miles Edgeworth x Females (Ace Attorney)

Oscar x Lola (Shark Tale)

White Choco Cookie x Males (Cookie Run)

Jamie Russo x Anyone (The Amazing World of Gumball)

Alberto x Giulia (Luca)

Any ships from FNaF

Any ships from Bunnicula

Canon Lesbians x Males; Canon Gays x Females

Ships with Childs

Crossover Ships

Pedo/Incest/Zoophilia/Abuse/Selfcest ships (themes related to good self-esteem, just self-love like "how beautiful I am" - thats okay)

Aesthetics:

Stonercore (And all others with Dr*gs, Alco, Cig**ettes, but if Character have Cig**ettes on all images it's okay and we will tag it like: "tw: cig**ettes")

Gorecore

Traumacore

Goblincore

Apocalypsecore

Other:

Flags of Real Countries, Islands, States etc.

Real Spiders and Scorpions

Abuse family, friendship, love (rivalry and enmity it's okay)

Sexualities who's never will be valid (like TikToksexual; Petsexual; G*resexual; etc.)

Old/Pink Lesbian Flag; Sunset Lesbian Flag with 7 Stripes

DD/LG; Fetishism; 18+; S*x; etc.

Misgendering Characters

Erasing canon Characters Orientations

List of Shapes for Icons:

Circle

Square

Heart

Rhombus

Star

Octagon

Polaroid

DNI:

Racist/Believe what "blackwashing" and "reverse racism" is reality

LGBTQ+ phobic

Anti-MOGAI

TERF/SWERF

Exclusionist

MAP/NOMAP

Transmed/Transcum

Sexist/Anti-feminist

Gender critical

Ableist

Antisemitist/Xenophobic

Nazi

If you support r/pe and ab/se

NSFW/DDLG/18+ blog (It's okay if you have some NSFW/DDLG/18+ posts, but it's not okay if all your posts it's NSFW/DDLG/18+)

Support "Super Straight's", "Super Gay's", "Super Lesbian's", "Super Bi's" (or if you)

Thank you for reading 💗

— Mod's GíR and Tãils

#rules

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flwrguk · 5 years

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“i’m actually quite in love with you, really.” (spencer reid x reader)

summary: you recently transferred into the bau and noticed how weird spencer is around you. the way he suddenly just stares at you for a quick second just for him to turn away to how he suddenly excuses himself out of the room when you’re in it. you suspect him of hating you, thinking you wronged him in some way. but, that hatred is ruled out when you corner him and get him to admit his feelings for you without even intending to.

warnings: fluff!!!!

key: (y/n) - your name; (y/l/n) - your last name

word count: 1,911

note: this was all written around midnight and finalized around 3 am so if it’s sloppy, i’m sorry. also, if anyone has requests, i’m happy to take them. gif credits to owner. lowercase intended.

*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅ *⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅ *⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅

“good morning, agent (y/l/n).” hotch nods at you.

“morning, agent hotchner.” you smile softly.

you make your way over to your desk parallel to spencer’s. he’s deeply engrossed in the book he’s currently reading. chuckling softly, you put your cup of tea down and log into your computer. just at you put in your password, spencer surprised you when he slammed the book closed. you were about to call him out on frightening you but he stands and takes a few glances at you before dashing out of the bullpen.

“what’s up with dr. genius?” jennifer asks as she comes in.

“he just slammed his book closed, looked at me, and left.” you shrug, not knowing what to make of the situation on hand.

“maybe he’s adjusting to you.” jennifer shrugs.

she could be right. you transferred to the bureau not too long ago and it’s taking spencer quite a while to actually have a proper conversation with you. you think he might hate you, maybe because you replaced emily prentiss. since she moved out to london, you were promoted into the bau.

“does he hate me for replacing agent prentiss?” you ask.

“it takes a lot for spence to hate people. trust me, he doesn’t hate you.” she pats your back before she heads into her office.

as the day went on, you noticed spencer staring and quickly looking away, quite a lot, actually. you felt like you were being silently judged or if he’s just criticizing you to some extent. before you could confront him, hotch called for a meeting. there’s a new case and it’s in california. you guys have to go to los angeles and investigate a serial killer who’s after homeless women.

during the plane ride, you discreetly watched spencer. he’d steal glances at you and look away very quickly, acting like he’s not doing anything at all. there’d be crimson blushes on his face, but he tries his best to always conceal it. when you purposely bumped him while you were walking past to the coffee station, you apologized quickly but he was faster.

“sorry, i was leaning too far,” he’d say before you could finish your apology.

still thinking that he hates you, you did your best to put your focus on the case instead of spencer. but, the constant staring then looking away made you feel fed up.

you followed him to an empty investigation room where he had some of his work splayed on the table. when you shut the door, he turned so quick, he got dizzy. “(y/n)?” he asks.

“what’s wrong with you?” you blurt.

“i-i’m sorry?” he furrows his brows.

“you keep looking at me and i can’t help but think that you’re silently judging me.” you put a hand on your hip.

“i’m-i’m not judging?” he tilts his head.

you take a step closer to the nervous doctor. “do you hate me or something?” you ask with worry written all over your face.

“not at all. i’m actually quite in love with you, really.” his gaze softens.

you were shocked. your eyes widened at his response, leaving you pretty speechless. the pink hue on your cheeks makes spencer let out a nervous laugh. you feel your mouth curve to a smile, completely showing your feelings.

“you’re in love with me?” you ask for confirmation.

the doctor nods, keeping his gaze on you. “i have been for quite a while, actually. ever since i saw emily training you six months ago to when you finally took over her position three months ago, i realized the weird feelings i’ve been getting are all symptoms of a crush.”

“and i thought all this time your staring was you hating me or silently judging me.” you bring your hands together, pulling at your fingers.

“i’ve been burning your image into my brain.” he grins. you giggle, suddenly feeling shy.

“i’d like to apologize for my assumptions.” you stand straight.

“you don’t need to apologize.” he shakes his head.

“i’d like to get to know you better, dr. reid.” you blush a deeper pink.

“i’d like to ask you out,” he takes in a deep breath, “on a date.”

“i don’t have plans after this case.” you nod.

“coffee?” he raises a brow.

“you pick the place.” you grin.

“it’s a date?” he asks to confirm.

you grin, sticking your hand out for him to shake. “it’s a date.”

“actually, kissing is proven to be safer than shaking hands as the transfer of germs is far less,” spencer says with a finger pointed up.

“are you asking me to kiss you, spencer?” you take a step forward.

“was it subtle?” he chuckles, a wide grin across his face with a blush.

“very.” you wrap an arm around him and press your lips together.

“my man!” derek’s voice comes in through the speaker. the both of you jump away from each other, keeping your heads down.

“i-i’m gonna go.” you quickly leave, causing you to bump into a chest. looking up, you see derek with a smug smirk on his face. “i did nothing,” you blurt before running away into the bathroom.

“(y/n)?” you hear jennifer’s voice. “i saw you run in here.”

“what? are you gonna tease me now?” you emerge from one of the stalls.

“no, i’m here to ask how that happened.” she chuckles. “you told me you thought he hated you.”

“i did, so i went to confront him and i asked him if he hates me. he said, and i quote, ‘not at all. i’m actually quite in love with you, really.’”

“he confessed?” her eyes widened.

“he confessed,” you repeat for confirmation.

the two of you grab hands and squeal, jumping up and down like school girls. from outside of the bathroom, spencer and derek were listening in on your conversation. spencer blushed, unable to stop himself from smiling. derek slapped his back, praising him. you and jennifer finally calmed down, channeling your professional personas. derek and spencer bolted in fear of the two of you coming out without them being able to escape.

“so,” jennifer says as you two walk out of the bathroom, “are you two going on a date?”

“we’re gonna grab coffee after we get back,” you say with a straight face.

“then you kissed him?” jennifer asks with a smirk.

“then i kissed him.” you couldn’t stop the smile from breaking out onto your face.

“he’s looking at you.” she pats you.

looking up, you lock eyes with spencer. you instantly smile, and so does he. he waves awkwardly, making you laugh and wave back. blushing, you look down for a second before looking back up at him. you throw a wink before turning to face jennifer.

“he told me his staring at me was all about him burning my image into his brain,” you tell her.

“i find it weird, yet oddly endearing.” you two share a laugh. you look back at spencer to find him staring at you already.

“what’s with the staring?” rossi asks, looking back and forth between you and spencer. “did i miss something?”

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler imagine #mgg x reader #mgg imagine #mgg #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #david rossi #aaron hotchner #reid

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crimescrimson · 3 months

Text

Evoking the Persona in Persona 3 Reload (2024)

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explosively-psycho-a · 5 years

Note

"I am thou, thou art I." Toshi

((Persona asks prompt, no longer accepting!))

1. How they awakened, what was the contact that they formed.

-Toshi has watched a new age roll in through his whole hero career. Bronze age, silver age, and lastly…his golden years, he was the pillar of a new movement of smiling heros willing to do what it takes to save the innocent. But those days had faded, he was snatched from the last chances to ease his students, the next great heros, into the world he’d left for them.

And the world was quickly becoming a mess. He prayed there was something…anything he could do.

____

~”Geart Hero of youth and peace, heed this voice and bow to it’s words. The voice has heard your please and takes pity. Breath thine title and retake your glory!”~

Thin legs wobbled and gave out. Crimson poured from his lips as he felt a heavy feeling settle in his chest. It felt like the weight of the world was back on him and he coughed and gagged to breathe despite the weight. His knees hit the floor only to give out a harsh crack against the hard floor and he felt tears prick at the corners of his darkened sunken in vision.

His head felt light though, it felt a cold light of something far more holy dropping at to quell his worries and fill him with something divine. He wasn’t sure he was ready.

“I hear you, voice. I hear you. I’m willing, I’m willing!”

~”I am thou, thou art I. The voice of God speaks to fulfill your prayers. Taken on thine contract and heed my simple demands!”~

-Contact: Live and fight to protect your progeny until they reach a time they are ready for their own glory. Than pass with peace.

-Persona: Metatron, the voice of the divine.

____

2. Method of further summoning/card crushing/gun evoker/screaming/mask ripping.

All Might/Toshi crushes a card to call the voice to him, he does not speak for it but does call on it’s power to gain a whole new power to protect what he holds dear.

3. Persona family typing/arcana/4 skills or abilities and explanations.

Metatron

-Family/arcana: Herald

-Abilities: (1) Holy Wrath (attack): Damages all participants in battle at the cost of the user’s health.

(2) Debilitate (debuff): Decreases attack, defense and agility all foes for a limited time.

(3) Null Force (debuff): Negates the next three force attacks for a single ally.

(4) Force Boost (passive): Increase damage force of all allies passively.

4. The persona it’s self and the basic history plus image/gif.

Lore: “One of the most important angels in the hierarchy, yet the most mysterious. He is the scribe and advocate of heaven.“

@moonsmultimuse

#SMT persona prompt #moonsmultimuse

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evanrosierx · 6 years

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ooc survey.

Why did you choose to play the character that you do at Crimson Revolt? I’ve always preferred to play the morally ambiguous character that align more with good, but I had never actually had the chance to flip that and try a character who fell more in the dark side. I really only found CRT because I was in the Paul Wesley tag, or else I’d probably have never found it tbh. Despite having been a hardcore Potter fan, surprisingly enough I had never roleplayed in the world before. I still roleplayed a lot, but seeing Evan’s skeleton matched with the face of an actor I knew would fit the role perfectly aka had the best gif’s/persona/aesthetic to use, etc I was suddenly flooded with inspiration and had to apply. It sort of felt like throwing a bunch of my favorite things together. Do you have a favorite holiday? It used to be Christmas, but sadly I have to confess I’ve become rather anti-holiday lately and just find all of it rather depressing. Do you prefer coffee or tea? Perhaps neither, or both? Coffee. What is your personality type? INFJ What is your Hogwarts House? Hufflepuff. What is your Zodiac Sign? Capricorn Three most recently watched on Netflix? The Ranch, Brooklyn 99, and Stranger Things Describe your ride-or-die friend. Holly. She used to be in this rpg briefly as McGonagall. We’ve been friends since 2011 and talk basically every day and nobody knows me more than she does. If you could have any superpower, what would you choose? Invisibility maybe. Or just the power to not overthink about everything and worry so much about the little things. Are you an early bird or a night owl? Night Owl What is your favorite color? I honestly have hated this question since I was five years old because I can’t make decisions and then it all turns into a hopeless existential crisis. I don’t really have a favorite colour and I am STICKING TO THIS ANSWER. You can’t make me choose! What is the last book you read? What is your favorite? I also hate this question because it’s a constant reminder that I don’t really read anymore... Where would you rather be right now? I honestly have no idea. Have you ever watched the sunrise? Driving to work this summer at around 6am had its advantages. One of them was seeing the sun rise as I cruised to some tunes and had my coffee. Do you listen to music when you write? If yes, what kind of music? Used to. Not so much anymore because I can’t concentrate with it on. Mostly I prefer writing to silence. What’s the one thing you especially love about roleplaying your muse/s? I love the fact that I get to write things that are so controversial and raw, and make no apologies for it. I get to explore a darker side of myself with Evan without the consequences, and test my writing limits. I also love exploring his softer side and uncovering the softer underbelly of the snake. What’s your favorite type of weather? Summer, but the kind of summer that only happens for about 2.5 days of the season where there’s just the right amount of heat. Not too humid. Not too breezy. That or fall. What’s your best RP experience? Maybe the first time I ever started writing human characters? Because for quite a few years when I first fell into roleplay I just used to write animals, particularly wolves. Now when I think of doing that it just feels weird, but for awhile that was my jam and it was awesome. Who inspires you? This is going to sound SO cheesy, but my fucking face claim because I’ve met the guy several times now (and going again in two weeks to see him in a play) and he’s literally the funniest most talented person I know of to exist and so inspiring. But most importantly, my dad. So two cheesy answers. Spread some love: mention someone you’ve met that has influenced you or your writing in a positive way and explain how! @opheliapomfrey // @amxsdxggory Because I love Anna and I wouldn’t keep trying to play Evan if she didn’t keep inspiring me and making me feel like there’s a place for me here in CRT after all the shit I’ve been through this past year and a half. And she’s just so sweet and understanding and has helped me through a lot. <33 And her writing and characters inspires such a mix of emotions out of me and Evan and it’s always a fun ride. :)

#crtchallenge #about amanda #ooc

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kirikinni · 7 years

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Bunny- Jungkook Centric Angst (Killer Kook AU)

So the gif is from this video on @/Zøboo on youtube

First: Hipnoticp

Second: refrainbow

**This gif is mine**

This is inspired from that killer kook au on twitter, i wrote this when that craze first started and posted on twit but not on here and i'm finally doing that. As per usual leave your comments and if you think it was any good.

***EXPLICIT DESCRIPTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND TORTURE PLEASE BE CAREFUL***

The sound of the wind swept through his ears. Jungkook sat under a tree, his silhouette illuminated only by the moonlight, it was a dark night and it was a quiet night. He was convinced these kinds of nights were created for him. His head resting on the trunk of the tree he seemed to be asleep to any who would have walked by, he was far from it though. He was watching, listening, observing. He was scouting.

There were a few people walking, lost souls trying to find their way back home. Jungkook laughed inwardly, he was once like that but he found his savior. He knew he was supposed to die. He was supposed to be at the very bottom of the Han river but here he was, head resting against a tree and a bag in his lap.

The bag was black in color; it looked like a normal school bag. Jungkook looked like a normal school boy, ah but looks are deceiving aren’t they? He heard the soft ring on his watch; it was time. His target was approaching. He sat up and opened his bag; there were three things within. The three things within were oh so very different from the contents of a normal school bag.

He pulled out a mask; it was round and pure white. The eyes were like bulls eyes, perfect circles with no life; they were unnerving to look at. He clasped the mask onto his face; the click of the metal behind his head gave him a new feeling. His pupils shone through the small holes within the big circles in the eyes of the mask. The wide smile sketched into the mask made it even creepier. Maybe it was meant to add a little happiness to the mask; a little hope to the person on the other end but all it did was add to his persona. All it did was enforce his crazy.

Jungkook ran his hands over the mask, remembering the day he got it. Taehyung had given it to him, Taehyung said Jungkook was his. He said that no one else could have Jungkook so Jungkook had to wear the mask. He said Jungkook was only really Jungkook when he killed and the real Jungkook belonged to Taehyung. He didn’t want to wear the mask back then. Jungkook wanted his victims to see Jungkook’s eyes when he killed them but that made Taehyung angry and Taehyung was scary when he was angry.

Jungkook had been working without his mask and one day Taehyung found out, Taehyung tied Jungkook up in the basement. It was drenched in the overwhelming smell of blood. The sounds of the past screams of Taehyung’s torture victims bounced off the walls and resounded in Jungkooks head. Jungkook felt his toes curl and the sweat dripping down his body made his clothes stick to him uncomfortably. He wasn’t afraid of much but he was afraid of Taehyung.

Taehyung left him alone for days, only coming in to give Jungkook his food once a day. Jungkook thought that was all, he thought his punishment was light and he was happy but he couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom. One day Taehyung came in early and Jungkook was alert. Taehyung was a habitual person and he was a perfectionist, he never strayed from routine.

Taehyung smiled at Jungkook, a soft sort of smile. He made his way over to his tools. Jungkook watched each and every movement, his mind raced through the possibilities. Taehyung had promised to not kill him but there were so many things worse than death. Taehyung walked towards him holding a small knife and Jungkook fixed his eyes on the knife. He had seen it many times before more specifically he had seen it cut through flesh many times before.

“Hmm will you wear the mask now bunny?” Taehyung asked Jungkook as he squatted in front of him.

“Yes, yes. I will. I’ll be a good boy. I’ll wear the mask.” Jungkook stuttered out, his eyes never leaving the beautiful, agile movements of the knife.

“Hmm good but you were a bad boy and bad boys need to punished right.” Taehyung asked, a sickly sweet smile spread across his face. Jungkook only nodded. He did not like being a bad boy. “I want you to scream okay, let me know how much it hurts.”

Taehyung pressed the knife against Jungkook’s cheek and it slowly but surely cut through the skin and blood poured out. As Taehyung cut deeper Jungkook’s whimpers turned to screams until the entire house was filled with the haunting screams of torture.

Jungkook shuddered at the memory; Taehyung was the only one who could control Jungkook.

He then pulled out bunny ears, they were white as well. They looked as though they belonged at a child’s birthday party but this was like a birthday party to him. He enjoyed this so much more, the thrill, the danger, the rush and the satisfaction. It was all like a drug to him. Jungkook placed the ears on his head and smiled at the feeling against his skull.

He took out the last item, it was made of beautiful stainless steel. It was small and sleek and it fit perfectly in his hands. It was much like him, small, quiet, fast and lethal. He hid it in his sleeve and he got off the ground, he looked like a strange young boy. Neither the mask nor the weapon in his hand could be seen but the white ears stood out like a splatter of white paint against a black background.

Jungkook’s eyes flitted throughout the park, searching for his target. He was good at this, he knew how to quickly dispose of them and he knew how to leave no trace.

No body, no crime.

He found his target once again, he laughed at how easy this was. His target was a man of no particular importance but he had made some very important people very angry and now it was his job to assure the man was never heard from again. A single man who mattered to no one, a single man who caused a lot of trouble.

“A bad boy bunny, he’s a bad boy and we don’t like bad boy’s do we?” Taehyung had told him as he held Jungkook’s face in his hands. Jungkook had shaken his head in response, Jungkook was a good boy. He was the best. Taehyung had told him he was the best when he shot the little girl and her father in the head, Taehyung had told him he was the best every time he finished his assignments, Taehyung had told him he was the best last night and Taehyung had told him today morning.

Jungkook was a good boy and he would make Taehyung happy because Taehyung saved him.

Jungkook practically skipped over to his target, the park had become very empty and very dark. Jungkook silently thanked the stars for his luck. Jungkook believed the stars watched over him. He had asked the stars to help him one last time and Taehyung had arrived.

His target was standing on a bridge, it looked over a river. Jungkook thought this was too familiar but he ignored it. The man was a bad and Taehyung did not like bad boys. Jungkook walked to the man and stood beside him.

The man turned to look at him and his eyes widened in surprise, it wasn’t every day a boy in a bunny mask and ears stands next to you in a park in the dead of night. Jungkook turned to look at the man and smiled, he forgot the mask covered his lips. He waved at the man with his free hand and merely seconds later the pure white mask and ears where covered in red.

Jungkook felt the recoil of the gun in his hands, he felt the warm blood seep through the holes in his mask into his skin, he felt it soak the sleeve of his t-shirt and dry in his hair but Jungkook felt wonderful. He felt the adrenaline pump through his veins and he could almost hear Taehyung’s voice. Jungkook backed up and walked away. Three other men came out from behind the trees, cleaned up the blood and carried away the body.

No body, no crime.

Jungkook walked back to his tree, took off his costume and hid it away in his bag. He put his gun away, his favorite toy. Taehyung had given it to him as a reward. Jungkook walked out of the park and walked back home. He walked through the neighborhoods and finally came upon his own, he walked to the house at the end of the street. It looked the best and it was truly a house that gave off warmth.

He walked up to the front door and knocked three times, stepped back and waited. The door opened shortly after to reveal a smiling face and bloodstained hands. Taehyung looked at Jungkook and his smile got even wider.

“Have you been a good boy Jungkook?” Taehyung asked, his hand rose to Jungkook’s cheek. Caressing it softly, leaving lines of blood on his face. Jungkook smiled back and nodded. “I want to hear your voice Jungkook, speak to me.”

“Yes hyung, I’ve been a very good boy.”

“Hmm my good boy, I want you to clean up and go sleep okay.” Taehyung said and stepped inside. “I have some” Taehyung stopped to smirk and look towards the door to the basement, “work to finish.” He looked back and Jungkook and smile.

“Okay hyung, good night.” Jungkook nodded and walked up the stairs to the washroom and his room.

He cleaned himself up and changed into pajamas. Jungkook washed the mask and the ears and placed them to dry, he put his gun on the desk like always and walked to the door to close it, he saw Taehyung at the bottom of the stairs. There were accents of blood on his face and he was holding a beautiful knife, whatever parts weren’t covered in crimson glistened against the soft light in the hallway. He smiled at Jungkook and waved.

Jungkook waved back and closed the bedroom door. He retreated to his bed and lay down. He closed his eyes and finally let the sounds of the screams enter his ears.

#jungkook angst #taekook angst #torture #taekook torture #killer kook #psycho taehyung #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung #jungkook centric #murdered jungkook #dark shit mate #enjoy #bts fanfic #taekook fanfic #jungkook fanfic

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bngtnblues · 7 years

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letters to an angel

genre: college AU/angst

author’s note: I’ve written three jimin fluff drafts but at the end, unsurprisingly, it’s got to be an angst. Warning: this scenario does have mentions of depression, mental disorders, and death. Credit to @saliechelon255 for making the beautiful gif above ♥‿♥ hope yall will like my first scenario for our chimchim (｡◕‿‿◕｡) and thanks to the lovely anon who requested and had to wait quite long for it. oh, and remember to request!!!

pairing: jimin x reader | scenario

blurb: A bunch of scattered letters from a girl to a boy who stole her heart and took it beyond the stars and above.

////01

Dear Jiminie,

My hands are shaking now as I’m writing this. It’s been a year and they still tremble whenever the pen begins to nearly bead onto the page. It’s a sight I’ve gotten used to every day. I guess, whenever I try to start this letter, it’s as if an upsurge of fear and all the anxiety that’s taken so long to stumble through appears in a cataclysm of waves. I close my eyes, hold my breath, and pray it doesn’t bury me.

I’ve written only seven lines and I can already feel it in my chest.

Shit. I’m crying.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I promised myself I could do this. I promised myself that I could write this letter. I promised so many promises it seems I only break them.

I miss you so much it scares me to the point of-

I can’t do this. I can’t stop crying and the paper’s all drenched from my tears and the ink’s blotched and everything is a mess.

I’m sorry.

I’ll try again tomorrow. I promise.

I’m so sorry.

////03

Dear Jiminie,

It’s my third letter. I’ve learnt to domesticate the upsurges and the waves now. Sometimes, my vision starts to blur and my hands turn numb but the thought of you somehow reading these letters has become a constant comfort.

It was my therapist who suggested the idea. Therapist Joon as I like to call him. He’s my second one so far and he’s not so bad too. At any rate, writing to you is growing into an addiction, Jiminie. It’s the only thing I look forward to doing in the extent of this twenty-four-hour span. Nowadays, I live in a perennial state where I’ve come to accept pessimism, with all of its negative intentions, because there seems to be no good in this world and it’s exhausting trying to find some.

I thought you’d want to know that Taehyung’s moved out of your dorm, he couldn’t bear sleeping in there and you’ll find him most of the time dozing off in the theatre’s backstage. I barely see Hoeseok anymore. He reminds me with monthly texts of the upcoming dance productions but he and I both know, what’s the point of going when you won’t be there. I haven’t seen Yoongi ever since you left. I once got a random postcard from Quebec wishing me well and as for Jungkook… he’s not doing too well, Jiminie. I’ll see him in one of my lectures with dark circles and he’s so thin now. He’s apparently been diagnosed with insomnia ever since he found you that day.

You know where I am right now? I’m sitting on our bench, the one on the beach near your house. I used to wait here while you were at rehearsals, the faint breeze brushing my nose and a clear sight of the stars sparkling in a world of darkness. It seemed like hours since I could finally see you running with a bag of snacks in your hand as an apology. You’d be panting when you reach me, kissing away the small pout on my lips considering even a small kiss from you, Jiminie, is like setting off a kaleidoscope full of stardust in me. It would leave me always airheaded. You had the kind of effect that could make a shrivelling weed convince itself it was a rose in full blossom.

We would sit side by side, you gazing at the sky, and me gazing over at you. Your eyes would be shining from the reflection of the stars, your hair matted from sweat but I would still sweep them over, your cheekbones glistening under the light as you patiently sipped on the bottle of milk.

You once pointed out a star in the sky, almost invisible to an eye and said, “ I promise one day, I’ll go as far as giving you that star Y/N.”

I remember scoffing, “As if. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Park Jimin.”

You turned to me, your eyes no longer shining and whispered, “Believe me, Y/N, I intend on going.”

And you did go and I’m still waiting here, Jimine. Still waiting for you give me that star.

////04

Dear Jiminie,

It’s early morning here and I can’t sleep, love. My mind has become cursed from thinking too much. It’s gotten used to wandering off into different dimensions where you’re still lying beside me.

Your brother came by my dorm yesterday. He’s taller now, probably taller than you. He talked about the how your father’s changed and how your mother keeps calling your voicemail. Then there was an awkward silence between us. He left after awhile. He looks so much like you, Jiminie.

I’ve realised it’s been one year and twenty-one days. One year and twenty-one days without those sweet coaxes of whispers into my ear. One year and twenty-one days without the feeling of your soft tufts of hair between my fingers. One year and twenty-one days without the stroke of your lips against mine. One year and twenty-one days since I’ve felt your fingers grasp mine as you hummed a melody while we walked to the library. One year and twenty-one days without hearing you laugh at the most pointless things. One year and twenty-one days since I’ve seen that smile that inexorably causes my breath to hitch.

It’s been one year and twenty-one days since you decided your life wasn’t worth living, Jiminie, and once again, I sit on the edge of this bed, inebriated with silent tears.

////06

Dear Jiminie,

Everything sucks. Professors piss me off with their overly-worrying questions, lectures tend to be the only time I can fall sleep, and my roommate is a bitch who thinks I need to ‘get back in the market.’

I told her to fuck off. She wasn’t too pleased and when I think about it, you would have made me apologise to her.

Anyway, I ate lunch with a group of friends today. Well, technically I sat with a tray of untouched stew while watching everyone smile and laugh while I didn’t. Nowadays, it takes actual effort to fake one or the latter and I don’t even have the energy to do that. On the other hand, the way people glance at me as I walk past or the way they talk to me now makes me wonder sitting on the edge of my bed isn’t a bad idea after all.

In the loneliest of nights, I find myself looking for your things, Jiminie. Like yesterday, I found a CD filled with your favourite music and there’s this particular song you always used to play to which you’d literally sweep me off my feet, making me abandon whatever I was doing, and waltz us around the room.

Remember that, Jiminie?

And a week ago, I found your scarf which you forced me to wrap around my neck on our second date, even when it wasn’t that cold. You were such a cheeseball. You told me to hold onto it with crimson cheeks and then shyly uttered that it suits me way better than it did for you.

I should have given it back.

It still smells like you.

////07

Dear Jiminie,

Therapist Joon asked me when was the last time I felt happy. I said I’m always happy. I talk when I’m happy. I breathe when I am happy. I smile when I’m happy. I’m even happy when I’m supposed to be sad.

He said that was one shit of a lie he’s ever heard.

////09

Dear Jiminie,

Sometimes I wish I never met you because then, I wouldn’t have any sleepless nights and I wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that this world can be so fucking cruel.

Does that make me a fool?

////12

Dear Jiminie,

Talking. Eating. Breathing. Sleeping. Everything hurts really. I don’t understand why I’m still here. I stay up at night thinking where you are and where you’ve been and where you’re going and every night I wonder when you’re coming back.

Therapist Joon read me a chapter from this book today. It was about a boy, who kept all of his emotions and troubles locked up inside a clear blue bottle. He tossed the bottle far into the sea, except he didn’t see the thin, slithering piece of string camouflaged around his ankle. Slowly, it anchored him down and then one day the bottle cracked. It cracked so bad the boy found his reflection the next morning with jagged lines running all over his face.

I told Joon I hated the story. It was too metaphorical for my liking.

He then finished off the session with a conclusion that a part of me blames myself for what happened and just like the boy, I’m bottling it all up.

He told me I need to start accepting your death.

death / deth / (noun) : the end of life of a person. the destruction or permanent end of something. period of greatest darkness, coldness, etc.

////13

Dear Jiminie,

There’s a red traffic light incessantly blinking inside me. It’s been like that ever since I wrote you the previous letter.

I knew a boy who was considered a disappointment in his parent’s eyes. Who was constantly reminded of the disreputable son - the auspicious heir who let down his family to become a dancer. All the more, the boy soon found judgement in everything, the dark thoughts of mediocrity and imperfection hissed in his mind while he twirled and leapt on stage. When he thought he could leave everything behind, it slowly ravaged inside him because he learnt to wear his happiness like some sort damnation, something he was forced to believe he could never truly deserve.

Along came his artful way to pretend which had everyone completely fooled. He plastered on smiles, always laughed a little more than needed, the persona never faltering.

You had us completely fooled, love.

But I started to notice everything, Jiminie; the sharp shards of glass in you, the tearstains you drowned in oceans the night before, the thorns you dug into your skin and scars you hid so shrewdly, how food had become your enemy and lying your best friend.

And I tried Jiminie. You know I tried. I tried to glue back the pieces that were hopelessly thrown away, I tried to take your pain away, even if it was only for a few minutes, praying when I was finished, you’d see yourself the way I saw you.

It was too late, though. I was so blinded by the light of saving you, I didn’t realise how there were still empty spaces embed in between the pieces, a bottomless vacuity where hopeful thoughts perished, and even if I took away your pain for a moment, it returned greater, more malignant, more poisonous each day. You told me with a sad smile there wasn’t any hope to begin with. As if it was the undeniable truth I had to accept.

But I couldn’t force myself to believe that. And I still can’t.

Did you honestly think it would’ve been easier for everyone if you just killed yourself, Jimin?!

Jungkook said you didn’t leave a note behind that day and I’m glad you didn’t because that type of notes hold a bunch of sorrys and goodbyes which embody complete lies. You’re not sorry for leaving me here. You’re not sorry for anything and I hate you so much for that.

////14

Dear Jiminie,

I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I look up into the night sky and it’s no longer the dark blue I once saw. It’s black and it’s dead and a star from the corner of my eye sits in space, unexceptionally desolate and dim, trying its utmost to shine in the night sky.

How come the night sky reminds me of you and the star of myself?

My breath and tears are all coiled into one substantial blob and my whole body feels like collapsing into destruction all because of you. You, who used to make daisies bloom onto my cheeks and orchids onto my heart. You, who took in complexity and emitted simplicity. You, who danced like a tragedy and now all of this makes my chest hurt.

I think you’ve turned me into a masochist, love. I think I like how my chest hurts when I remember the way you smelled like strawberries and the way your giggles still chime in my ears. Your cold fingers leaving chills on my skin and the spearmint your breath blew across my face. I remember the irregular galaxies inside your eyes and your nose tickling my neck and your arms which surrounded me at night.

I’ve succumbed myself to it.

I hate you but I’m in love with you. I hate you and I don’t want to love you anymore. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

////15

Dear Jiminie,

Truth: I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. I want to hate you but I still want to love you.

I’m such a mess.

////17

Dear Jiminie,

Please come back.

I swear to god, I would do anything for you to come back.

Please, Jiminie, just come back so I can hear your heart beating and hold you tight and play with your hair and we can talk about anything or dance to anything.

I love you so much. Please come back.

Please.

////20

Dear Jiminie,

I’m standing on top of a building, and no, I’m not going to jump. Although, I would really like to sleep for a very long time.

I’m standing on top of a building, looking down onto the gleaming maze of a city, thinking about the time my nonexistent voice whispered, shouted, begged for you to not go.

I once asked you why you desperately wanted to leave. You tilted your head back and a low chuckle flew out of your mouth with irony. That sight will always be scratched in my mind, love. The airy eyes, deprived of any care in the world, lit up by one single notion, and then you said, “That’s where my paradise will be and this is my hell.”

You were always selfish.

I wanted you to realise paradise was actually here. I guess I was always selfish too.

////21

Dear Jiminie,

Hoseok spotted me on the beach, lying on the sand and the shells like a corpse. He asked me how I was. I couldn’t find the right words to say I’ve gone mental when it comes to my dead boyfriend so I chose to reside with the simple “I don’t know anymore.”

Which is the reality after all because I have no words to express how I feel. One minute, I’m okay then the next, I feel as if I could implode. I never chose to feel like this. I search for a place where the emotionless are but I think that’s inevitably impossible.

////24

Dear Jimine,

I’m watching the sunrise and it’s moments like this where you feel as if everything in the world stills to a halt and it’s like there’s a second where the universe tries to become like cosmos. There’s no noise, and yet, the birds keep singing, and there are so much light and darkness in one unified assortment.

Today’s your birthday, Jiminie, and I’ve realised saying goodbye to someone does hurt but you know what’s more painful? When you ask someone to stay when you know they want to leave so badly. You can’t change their mind no matter how many times your voice becomes raw from shouting and begging and the worst part is when they actually leave and you finally realise the proof that you didn’t change their mind one bit.

It makes me think that you never really needed me the way I need you.

Happy birthday, Jiminie.

////26

Dear Jiminie,

My roommate-who-I-never- talk-to-and-who-says-the-wrong-things-at-the-wrong-time made me sit down and watch stupid kitten videos.

I laughed and smiled once during all of it. She’s not as bad as I thought she was.

////27

Dear Jiminie,

This is what happened today.

therapist Joon: so, how are you today, Y/N?

“good”

therapist Joon: ahh, good. A word that seems so complete but isn’t.

I shrugged. The man is crazy philosophical.

therapist Joon: what I meant to say is how are you really today? Because when I ask you how you are, I really want to know.

“That’s great.”

therapist Joon: you know, Y/N? grief comes with a whirlwind of emotions which a human mind can’t fully comprehend and that’s nothing to be ashamed of. I know I’ve told you this before but keeping all that emotions deep beneath you is not going to make you understand anything nor will it help you.

“…”

therapist Joon: I’m not going to force you to say anything about Jimin. I know you talking about him is difficult and the letters seem to be doing some progress but just-just tell me if he liked the cafeteria food or if he hated the library because it has poor ventilation or something. Opening up about the tiniest details about him will help, Y/N. I promise.

“…..They gave out egg salad for lunch. He always hated it. It has that horrible smell.”

////30

Dear Jiminie,

I visited you today. I brought cherry blossoms and white carnations because they were your favourite. Funny how I used to put flowers in your hair and not on your grave.

////31

Dear Jiminie,

You loved rain and I hated it but today, it doesn’t bother me for the first time. I’m actually liking the sound of the drops hitting the window, exuding nostalgia of many things that has happened and never will happen. Stormy junctures like these make me hope that there are people who are just as lost as I am.

////36

Dear Jiminie,

The strangest thing happened today. I opened my eyes and it’s not so dark anymore. There were yellows and greens. There were pink and oranges. The night sky was still dead black and I can see that one star unconditionally shining to it’s uttermost, and the fact it keeps on shining in an abyss of total darkness made me think maybe it’s not so bad here.

These letters are becoming shorter. Sorry.

////37

Dear Jiminie,

Today, I ran into Jungkook and I guess it was something in his voice that made me sit down with him on a nearby bench. It was complete silence until he asked me why is it that the dead never really leave? Why does it feel like you’re still here?

I didn’t know how to answer since I didn’t know the answer itself.

He started crying after that and I’ve never seen Jungkook cry before. He was mumbling hastily that it was his fault that you’re gone and if he didn’t leave you alone in your dorm, none of this would happen. He was always so close with you, love.

Then, I hugged him. I hugged him so tight and god, he’s so thin. I was so scared that he would break from the pressure.

I gave him Joon’s number and an apple. Hopefully, he’ll use both.

////40

Dear Jiminie,

I went to see your parents. Your brother wasn’t home so it was just your father, who stares out into the distance now, and your mother, who’s locked herself up in your bedroom. She’s been like that ever since they cut your phone line. The butler still remembers me and the gardener gave me a tulip when I left. Your father no longer looks at me with dissatisfaction and I no longer look at him with despise. I guess we’re both mutual now.

////100

Dear Jiminie,

You existed for an innumerable number of reasons and I wish I could have told you each one, every day so you could have realised how much you matter and how much you will always matter to everyone you’ve left with a little imprint of yourself in their lives. You’ve only thought of yourself as a flaw who wasn’t worth being adored, worth being loved, worth being happy, worth having everything or being someone. You were flawed but yet you were immaculate and somehow you forgot you were worth anything at all.

Sometimes I forget that you’re not here with me, Jiminie. Sometimes I see a cute dog or hear something funny while I walk down the street and think that I’ll tell you later and then I’ll remember that I can’t because you’re dead and no amount of pleading or anger or sadness will bring you back. It was the undeniable truth that I’ve come to accept along with the reality that I’m still a collateral mess and I’ll always have bad days because they hold equal importance as the good ones.

I’m in a place in my life now where things are getting better. I’ve started up a little group at our college that raises awareness about suicide. I don’t want anyone else to experience the crippling pain of losing someone to it. I don’t want anyone else to experience what you felt here.

I’ve stopped going to Therapist Joon and on my last session, he told me how some people believed that the dead pervades in the creation of this world which was comforting because it’s nice to know you are in the trees and the ocean I walk past every day or in the stars.I bought Joon a bunch of mixtapes as a thank-you gift and he’s invited me to his boyfriend’s restaurant which I fully intend on going.

Taehyung no longer sleeps in the backstage of the theatre ever since the staff found out. Hoseok’s got a girlfriend and I’ve watched one dance production so far. Never as good as the ones you were in, Jiminie. Taehyung says Yoongi’s now somewhere in Australia. I don’t think he has a plan to ever come back here. Jungkook’s doing well. He goes to Joon now and most days we meet at a cafe so he has someone to talk to.

Your brother’s gotten a huge football scholarship and your parents are actually content with that. They’re all coping in their own ways and I try to visit them from time to time but it still hurts.

This is probably my last letter I’ll write to you. I want you to know I’ll always love you because I think even twenty years from now, I’ll still love you with all my heart could offer. There will presumably never be a day that I won’t miss you. This sounds all cliche and sappy. I guess I got that from you.

But you know what, Jiminie?

Love surpasses the borders of death and me living on this earth without you doesn’t matter anymore because one day, I’ll see you on the other side when it’s my time to get there.

Yours forever,

Y/N

ب_ب

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