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#and it's like that with every story i'm working on too
midnightorchids · 2 days
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Hello I'm literally obsessed with how you write jason todd and how you invision him I binged your jason todd list and it's so good. I was wondering if you could write one where he has like a bubbly golden retriever girl who is obsessed with him and would leave any conversation to just go to him
First of all, you’re a literal sweetheart omg! Thank you so much for reading, I’m so glad you like my work! And second, I am so so so sorry for how late this is!!
This idea is so cute, Jason totally deserves a cute and bubbly gf!! This is a little bit long, but I hope you like it!!
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Jason had once again invited you to another one of Bruce’s galas as his date. Formal events were never your scene, but you couldn’t say no to Jason, especially when he’d ask so politely.
He’d stare at your face lovingly with his big doe eyes. His calloused hands would cup your face gently as his thumbs delicately grazed your cheeks. His bitten lips would turn into a small smile and you couldn’t bear to say no to his pretty face. That’s how the story always went, he’d stare at you innocently and you’d always agree to attend.
Jason hated attending galas, but he hated going to them alone even more. Hence why he brought you, he wanted you there for moral support. 
He always tried his best to be gentleman when it came to these types of events. His eyes never leaving you for a second.
A few years ago he made up a code for when you’d attend formal events together. You still remember the look he gave you when he explained the “rules.”
His gaze was gentle and his hands were laced with your own. He spoke in a soft, hushed voice, “okay pretty girl, listen up. One squeeze, means you’re done with the conversation. Two is for when you’re ready to leave. Got it?”
You almost never had to use the code though, somehow Jason always knew when it was time to head out.
Galas and formal events were always so consuming, exhausting almost. The politics and business were far too confusing. You never found yourself wanting to engage with most people as it felt awkward to initiate conversations sometimes.
You’d spent most of the evening stuck to Jason’s side with his hands firmly on your waist or tangled between your fingers. 
However, despite your views of the galas, you were a star. Men and women alike frolicked around you, like bees to a flower. You were always a source of wonderment— polite, kind and beautiful. 
You always greeted everyone with a soft, welcoming smile. You were bubbly and made an effort to look engaged in conversations when people approached you. Whenever you’d do this, Jason couldn’t help but smile to himself. It wasn’t your element, but here you were immersing yourself into these empty conversations for him. 
This particular gala felt similar to most of Bruce’s events. Noisey chatter and expensive gowns engulfing the room.
You were starting to feel tired and Jason was starting to feel antsy too. But he was cornered by three men in matching black suits and it was too awkward to leave. You and Jason rarely got separated at such places, but it had seemed to be just one of those nights. You took a seat at the nearest table, as the pair of stilettos on your feet were starting to cause an uncomfortable ache.
You stared into the crowd, a smile small on your face when you’d accidentally make eye contact with someone. You were in your own head, paying no mind to your surroundings when a tall man walked over to you. 
“May I sit here,” he said, pointing to the seat next to you. You nodded your head with a polite smile. 
Minutes go by and you notice the man trying to gather the courage to speak to you, but it seemed that every time he tried, he got nervous. You tried to ignore his behaviour and found yourself looking around the room for Jason. He still seemed to be preoccupied with the men.
Jason’s jade eyes met your gaze from across the room and his stern expression slowly morphed into a small smirk, making the scar near his lip more pronounced. 
He nodded along with the men, but his attention was on you. He stood up taller, trying to fix his posture. He ran a hand through his styled hair, making it just the right amount of messy. He looked good in his navy suit and your eyes raked his body. He looked pretty today and he knew it too.
A voice brings you back to reality and you look over into the direction of the sound. It was the man from earlier. 
“Pardon,” you asked softly and the man smiled. 
“Oh, I was just saying that it’s quite lively here tonight,” he said fixing his tie anxiously.
“It really is, it’s very loud tonight” you kept your answer short. The man looks up at you, his eyes fixed on your lips. 
“So I was wondering-” the man’s words don’t seem to register, you’re too busy looking at Jason. He was done with his conversation and was making his way over to you. You quickly get up in excitement.
The man still seemed to be talking and you find yourself interrupting him. 
“I’m so sorry but my boyfriend-” and Jason pulls you in by the waist, paying no attention to the man. 
“Hey pretty girl, I’m sorry I took so long,” he says. His voice low and sympathetic. You grin in response, happy to see your boyfriend again.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, “let’s go home Jay. I’m so tired and my feet hurt,” you confess, pouting. 
Jason smiles gently. You look beautiful to him. He takes a strand of your hair and tucks it behind your ear and you can feel your face getting hot. Even after years of being together, Jason still had this effect on you. 
“Let’s go, want me to carry you,” Jason giggles and you smack his chest playfully. 
“I’m fine, let’s just leave,” he intertwines your fingers in his and leads you out the door. 
The man’s face looks stunned, he didn’t expect you to run off with your boyfriend mid conversation. 
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dfortrafalgar · 2 days
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Hiii! I'm so happy you are taking requests! I love the way you write, everything feels so real! I'm loving ILY and it's a bittersweet feeling now that it is ending (I'm the anon that commented early on saying that it was so relatable because I also had a miscarriage at 6 weeks). Thank you for that fic 🥰🤗
Now, my requests, if you choose to take it! I would love a jealous/protective Law X fem reader. I was thinking, no established relationship but some flirting going on, perhaps. Could be SFW or NSFW, it's up to you! I would just really loooooove some protective Law! I'm also obsessed with his hands so you can do whatever with that 😂
Did I mention that I love your writting? I did? I'll do it again. Thank you for sharing your gift! ❤️
I'm in annon but you can call me R.J. 😋😎
AAA HELLO R.J im so happy to hear from you again!!!!! no lie ive been thinking about you every day, your first message during my story was so amazingly sweet and touching and i havent been able to stop thinking about it, im so happy that you loved the end of the fic and to hear that you're doing well!!! <333
i ended up projecting a bit in this fic... and it ended up being a bit more Protective Law rather than Jealous Law, but i hope you like it all the same! i also juggled on nsfw, but decided that sfw worked better for this specific plot, so i hope that's alright!!!
thank you so much for requesting!!!! 💗❤️💓💕
Decontaminate the Heart
Law x Fem Reader
Your feelings toward Law had gone from a reasonable level of respect to a deep infatuation that you were readily keeping hidden. An unfortunate encounter with a predatory shopkeep might be what unravels your feelings... and the feelings of your captain.
Warnings: some descriptions of gross behavior from a stranger, light fluff, pre-relationship vibes, protective law but also struggling-to-accept-his-feelings awkward law
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Law wasn’t fond of the word ‘jealous.’  After all, he was a seasoned veteran in the long game of Keeping All Human Emotions Bottled Up Inside So That You Don’t Show Weakness To Those Who Might Be Out To Hurt You.  He had become a pro at it, too.  After all, putting a word to an undefined emotion only validated that feeling, which was exactly the opposite of what Law needed.  Mouth constantly downturned in a pensive frown, steely, cold eyes shutting down all encounters with those he deemed unfamiliar or even the slightest bit threatening, holding even his closest friends at arm’s length on good days.  If he wasn’t the strong-willed, feared captain of the Heart Pirates, a man with a three billion beri bounty on his head, then who was he?
The answer is: a loser.  He was a loser.  Especially after he brought you on board his crew as a boatswain.  That day, he unwillingly began the downward spiral that would transform into his emotional demise.  A psychic catastrophe.  An inner turmoil of the highest degree.
Ikkaku called it infatuation.  Bepo called it love.  The rest of his raunchy, stifled male crew called it being horny.
Whatever it was, it had Law in a steel trap, never letting go.
And on a particularly warm, sunny day, docked cliffside on an island with idyllic spring weather, his steel trap was donned in a flowy sundress that complimented her entire outward appearance in a way he didn’t think was humanly possible.  When she first greeted Law before they departed the Polar Tang, she had bent down slightly, holding her hands together in front of her and pushing her biceps together just enough that her cleavage was on center stage for just a brief moment.  She had giggled at the way Law’s face flushed with a crimson hue.  Unprovoked… but not necessarily unappreciated.
Days for leisure were hard to come by as a pirate, so the crew was sure to take full advantage of the opportunities that crossed your path.  The pirates were given the freedom to roam to their heart’s content, so long as they didn’t cause trouble.  “Stress-free activities are crucial to maintaining good cardiac health,” Law would say.  But everyone knew he enjoyed some sparring days off just as much as any average bloke.
Especially when those days off were spent in your company.
“Thank you for coming with me, Captain!” you quipped, your voice cheerful as you walked beside him, a small paper bag clutched in your hand, containing a small product you had just purchased from one of the local shops.  The entire crew had shed their usual boiler suits for the day in exchange for more casual attire, you taking the opportunity to don the sundress that you had purchased a few months ago with Ikkaku.  “I’m always happy when you take days off to get out of that stuffy office of your’s.”
Law fought tooth and nail to keep the pleased smirk that twitched his lips from showing on his face.  He already needed to duel with his wandering eyes which kept itching to gaze at the way your breasts fit into the bodice of your light, flowy gown.  “Of course, it’s nice to get out sometimes.”  ‘With you,’ he added in his head before quickly balling up the thought into a crumpled mess and chucking it into a garbage pail.  The worst part about all of this, unrelated to walking side-by-side with you (which was the complete opposite of a bad thing), was the fact that he was pressured to leave Kikoku behind on the Polar Tang.  He felt naked without his sword perched on his right shoulder.
Your eyes were eagerly glancing between the storefronts that surrounded you on both sides, happy townspeople window shopping with their families and loved ones, partaking in the outdoor food markets, and spending quality time in the sun.  The domestic bliss of days like this always made your soul feel lighter, your footsteps almost floating off the ground.  A few couples passed by, their hands intertwined and souls combining with bliss, a sight that made Law’s own fingers twitch with the deep-seeded need to grasp your hand.  Every once in a while, your own fingers would tingle with the desire to reach out for him as well.
He wouldn’t hold your hand because of affection, Law told himself.  It was just to make sure other people knew you were off limits.
Was that because of affection?  Was he even entitled to such a thought?  
He stifled a frustrated groan.  “Are you looking for something?” he asked curiously, picking up on the way your gleaming eyes darted to and fro.
“There was a shop I read about in the latest paper that I could have sworn was on this island…” you muttered, bringing your free hand up to nervously stroke the skin of your cheek.  After a few more moments, your face lit up as your eyes landed on a shop tucked away between two larger markets, almost completely hidden from public view.  “Found it!”
Law’s heart almost leapt out of his throat when you subconsciously snatched his hand, yanking him out of the flow of people on the street and towards the storefront.  His stern golden eyes flashed up towards the sign above the front door.
‘WILD BILL’S PAWN SHOP’
“You read about this somewhere?” he asked, his voice revealing a level of skepticism as you stopped in front of the front door.  A dingy, beat-up ‘OPEN’ sign carved into a plank of birch wood and hanging from a rusty chain was flipped outward toward the street, beckoning townsfolk inside to peruse whatever wares were contained within the unassuming wooden shack.
You excitedly nodded.  “Yup, I was looking for places that might sell rare coins.”
Law’s breath caught in his throat.  “But you don’t collect coins.”
“I was looking for you!” you called out, flashing him a smile that could have easily put him in an early grave.  So much for being conscious of his heart health.  With the way his organ was hammering behind his sternum, he had half a mind to be worried about spontaneous cardiac arrest.
Instead of responding, all he could muster was a quiet, pensive, “Hmm.”
You finally released his hand (his palm felt so cold now), and pushed open the thin wooden door to enter the shop.  An obnoxious, ear-piercing bell chimed above the hinges, alerting any other shoppers or employees of your entrance.  Law always hated gimmicks like that, they were a pirate’s worst nightmare.  Instantly, the smell of centuries old dust and mildew flooded Law’s nose, making him suppress a sneeze into the collar of his shirt.  He was about to make a snide remark about being susceptible to allergens, but kept his lips sealed when an amused giggle emitted from your lips at the way his face contorted with mild disgust.
He blindly followed you to the back of the store, past dusty shelves containing books from all walks of life, old technology that Law had never even seen before, and antiques from across the globe.  Your expression remained one of wonder as you passed by each new item, gazing fondly at some of the more sentimental goods- boxes of old postcards, old newspapers from decades prior, wanted posters for pirates long deceased.  For such a ratty-looking establishment, the variety of wares this ‘Wild Bill’ had on hand was quite impressive.  In the very back of the store, a long glass case spanning almost the entire length of the wall was situated, separating a back room from the rest of the establishment.  There was a small space to walk around behind the case in between the wall, where small sliding doors were built in to allow someone to remove the wares kept safe inside.
Law’s eyes finally lit up in wonder.
A plethora of fine metalwork was kept in the special enclosure, jewelry with the finest minerals and perfectly sculpted details in precious velvet boxes, metal treasures surely passed down through generations of wealth, and in the nearest corner, an assortment of collectable, commemorative coins from across the world.  You smiled to yourself as Law drifted toward the coins, crouching down on his calves to more closely inspect what the shop had to offer.
He was so adorable.
“Can I help you folks with anything?” a voice from behind you asked, startling you from your affectionate daze.
A larger, older man emerged from behind one of the tall bookshelves, his hands in his pockets.  He was dressed surprisingly gaudy, a bright purple overcoat that traveled past his rump covering a sky-blue button-up shirt and a polka dot bowtie.  His belly was quite large, a curled handlebar mustache perched atop his upper lip.  He looked wildly out of place in such a modest, dusty shop.  Must be Wild Bill.
You flashed a cordial smile.  “Just looking around!”
The sound of your talking alerted Law, who stayed crouched in front of the coin collection but tossed accusatory glares over his shoulder, assessing the man’s interactions with you under an analytical gaze.  Out of instinct, as a pirate.  As a captain.  Nothing more… probably.
“Well, let me know if you need help finding anything!” the man hollered, his receding hairline making the dim light of the nearby lamps reflect off his oily skin.  He stepped behind the glass containers with a small huff and disappeared into the back room, a curtain swooping closed behind him.
With the outrageous stranger gone, Law resumed looking over the fine details of each coin housed within their own individual boxes, while you approached the other end of the glass case and examined the jewelry.
Your eyes darted excitedly between pieces.  Delicate rings with rare gemstones sat perfectly in their boxes, some dated as old as centuries ago.  A bracelet that was assembled with the finest minerals, gleaming brightly through the dim atmosphere of the shop.  As your eyes continued to dart from one object to the next, you finally found yourself entranced by one thing in particular.  It was a necklace, more of a choker than a longer-hanging piece, with a small purple amethyst mounted elegantly in the center of a silver pendant.  The complimentary silver chain seemed to be fairly heavy duty just as it was delicate enough to still be an elegant accessory.  You felt a smile pull at your lips.  You doubted you had enough beri to afford it, but you’d be damned if you couldn’t at least try it on.
Wild Bill once again appeared from behind the curtain after a few moments, placing a few items on top of the counter to be placed inside the glass enclosure.  Law watched as the old man’s gaze turned to you as you bent over, tucking your dress behind your knees to crouch down and get a closer look at the amethyst necklace.
“Anything caught your eye, missy?” Bill asked, his voice far too loud for such a small shop as he leaned over the top of the counter and gazed through the transparent surface at the pieces you were admiring.  A seemingly friendly smile adorned his pudgy face.
You enthusiastically nodded.  “Yes, actually, can I try on this necklace?”  Your finger pointed through the protective barrier toward your interest.  “The one with the small amethyst pendant.”
Law kept watching your interaction out of the corner of his eye.
“Of course, of course!” boomed Bill, bending over and sliding the door of the case open to remove the necklace, holding it by the chain in his large, burly hand.  
Without being asked, he stepped out from behind the counter and approached you from behind, unclasping the chain and looping it around your neck.  Law watched, his leg muscles tensing as you visibly stiffened at the proximity of the man as he clasped the chain together around your neck.  He pulled over a small standing mirror to have you admire the piece that sat elegantly between your collarbones.  Your fingers ghosted over the gemstone embedded in the fine silver, a small smile ghosting over your lips.
“It looks absolutely beautiful,” you whispered.
Bill stepped closer, almost pinning you from behind against the counter.  His large hands rested against the glass case, caging you in.  “It does… fitting for a beautiful woman such as yourself.”
The air went ice cold as Law watched the man’s hand wander upward, trailing across your forearm and up toward your bicep, across your shoulder and to your neck.  Your face had quickly contorted into an expression of terror, having been caged against the counter all of a sudden against your will, being caressed by this stranger.  Law felt frozen.  His brain was screaming at him to move, to do something, to get you out of this shop as soon as possible.  But he couldn’t move.  Why couldn’t he move?
“I’m sorry, I think I’m going to pass, actually,” you uttered, trying to push yourself away from him.  Your voice had quickly grown shaky, apprehensive.
“No, no, it really does suit you!” Bill murmured, his head angling downward, predatory eyes gazing over the soft skin of your neck.  The way he kept you pinned against the counter prevented you from moving away from him.  His belly was almost pushed flush against your back, making your hands tremble in fear.
“ROOM.”
A flash of blue light engulfed the surrounding area.  You immediately breathed a sigh of mild relief.  A static sensation permeated the space around you, making goosebumps rise across your skin and the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.  Just as soon as the bubble surrounded you, the predatory man was replaced with your captain standing protectively behind you, his lean hand on your shoulder to keep you steady.
Now he’d done it.
“You’re…” Bill stammered, his own hands shaking with realization.  “I’ve seen that ability, you’re… you’re…!”
Law didn’t give him time to fully realize who’s identity he was dealing with before his hand was in yours, forcefully dragging you out of the shop, harshly pushing between narrow shelves of delicate antiques until the two of you burst back out into the sunlight.  Law didn’t let up his pace, your feet barely keeping you steady as you ran.  Onlookers stepped back, shocked gasps and wide eyes following the two of you in your mad scramble back to the cliff where the submarine was kept concealed.  He just needed to get you some place secure.  Somewhere where you could wash away the phantom grime of the hands that had just touched you.
What a bad day to leave his sword behind.
The two of you had just barely made it past the outskirts of the port town when you tripped, slamming into Law’s backside and falling to your knees with a pained grunt.  The shoes you were wearing definitely weren’t built for mad sprints through a town.
“Shit…” Law grumbled, crouching down in front of you.  “Are you alright?”
Your hands were still shaking, anxiously palming the dirt and grass beneath your fingers as your lungs heaved, desperate to catch up on the oxygen you lost in your frantic sprint.  Small tears brimmed in the corners of your eyes, but you were quick to blink them away.  Your heart was pounding madly in your chest, your brain a fuzzy mess of scrambled, panicked thoughts that couldn’t make sense in any order.  Law was so close to you, so close you could almost smell the mild soap he used in the shower.  Something woody.  Mellow.  So very him.  You wanted to hug him.  The stress of the sudden incident was rapidly catching up to you.
Instead, the only thing you managed to do was blurt out an awkward, weary, “Thank you.”
Law wordlessly helped you to your feet, walking you back to the Polar Tang.  His mouth was drawn in that pensive line once more.
It took a few hours for you to register the fact that you had sprinted out of the pawn shop with the necklace still clasped around your neck.  When you took it off, you held it gently in your hands, gazing at the way the brilliant purple gem was nestled perfectly in the metal sculpted around it.  But the fingerprints around the chain from the predatory man who groped you left a phantom burning pain on your skin.  You still loved the piece, you truly did, and you wished you could wear it, but you felt violated.  There was no denying it.
You needed to scrub it clean.  You needed to scrub your own body clean, it seemed.
Law was in the medical bay when you carefully knocked on the door, hoping that no one was in there with him.  The tired sounding, ‘Come in,’ granted you permission to gently push the heavy hatch door open, stepping into the dim lighting and closing the entrance behind you.
Your captain was in the midst of re-organizing the entire medicine cabinet, floor to ceiling.  He did it when he was stressed.
“Yeah?” was all he asked when you entered, barely looking away from his obsessive work while you stood awkwardly in the doorway, holding your necklace in your cupped hands like it was a suspicious specimen to be brought to a lab.
“I know this is a weird request, but can you disinfect this?” you asked.
You held up the necklace by the very end of the chain, dangling it in the air away from you.  Law finally turned his attention toward you, an eyebrow raised.
“Why?”  He sounded genuinely oblivious to why you would ask for such a favor.
You rocked back and forth on your heels.  “It still feels like it has the fingerprints of that guy.  From the shop,” you clarified.  When you said it out loud, you grimaced at how childish you sounded, but at the same time, you felt your concerns, your insecurities over what had transpired, were justified.
You were violated.  Case closed.
It seemed Law picked up on that as well.  As much as he struggled to put himself in other peoples’ shoes, he could see the anxious look in your eyes that told him everything he needed to know- you wanted to wash away all traces of the man who burst your personal bubble in one of the worst ways imaginable.
Law felt a searing jealousy in his chest, the sudden reminder of the way your face contorted in utter horror as you were touched.
Your captain wordlessly stepped forward and gently took the chain from your fingers.  You watched him silently as he stepped back toward the counter, rummaging through the supplies he had laid out mid-organizing before procuring an opaque bottle of rubbing alcohol and filling a small container about halfway with the solution before submerging your necklace inside.  He capped the bottle and placed it back where he found it, amongst his other disinfectant chemicals.
“We’ll let that sit for a few minutes,” he suggested.  “In the meantime, I have these wet napkins you can use to clean your neck, if you want.”
He took the words right out of your head, as if he could read your mind.  You gratefully accepted the small container of alcohol wipes, starting with your neck and rubbing the cold solution down your collarbones, chest, and arms.  You didn’t care if it would dry out your skin later, the feeling of wiping away that man’s fingerprints in some capacity was more freeing than anything else in the world.
Law simply watched, glancing away from you every once in a while when you turned at an angle that would let you see him staring wanton daggers in your direction.  He shouldn’t be watching you scrub yourself down while fully clothed, if anything that could also be a violation of your unspoken privacy.
After what felt like hours, you finally disposed of the wipes in the nearby waste receptacle while Law fished out your necklace with a gloved hand, placing it on a dry cloth and carefully removing all the liquid from the surface of the metal.
He started speaking without thinking.  “Silver and amethyst are sturdy materials that can be placed in rubbing alcohol for disinfecting,” he stated.  “If this was some other weaker gem, like an emerald, it wouldn’t be so easy.”
You grinned, stepping closer as he polished the chain.  His hand that wasn’t gloved carefully moved along the cloth, outlining the shape of the necklace folded under it in precise, delicate motions.
Goodness, you loved his hands.
“So you’re as good with rocks and minerals as you are with health science?” you asked, a small, playful smirk on your lips.
Law’s own mouth twitched upward.  “I suppose so.”  He gently unfolded the cloth and removed the necklace.  “There, all clean.”
You grinned appreciatively, turning around and brushing away any obstacles in the way of your neck.
He stared at you from behind your back.  “... What are you doing?” he asked dumbly.
You tossed a glance over your shoulder.  “Waiting for you to put it on.”
Law chewed on the inside of his cheek.  “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” you confirmed.  “I trust you.”
What you didn’t say was just how much you trusted him.  You would willingly lay down your life for your captain, the love for him, both as a person and as a pirate, greatly surpassing that of a captain and his subordinate.  Sometimes, well, most of the time, you desperately hoped that he felt the same way.
After understanding your request, Law stepped toward you slightly, one hand still gloved as he looped the necklace around the front of your neck, bringing both ends of the chain around the back to clasp at the base of your spine.  His deft, inked fingers left scorching hot trails in their wake, your skin craving his touch.  The complete opposite of your counter in the pawn shop.
Once secured, you turned around to face him, a pleased smile on your face as your fingers once again ghosted over the delicate, purple mineral embedded into the pendant.  “How does it look?”
Law prayed that the blush on his cheeks wasn’t noticeable through the dim lighting on the medical bay.  He would put necklaces on your soft skin every day if you’d let him.
Oh, how he wished you’d let him.
“It looks great…” he mumbled, his voice soft and apprehensive.  “It suits you.”
His voice, the anxious tilt of his eyebrows, spoke volumes to you as your smile grew wider.  “Hey, Law?”
He turned his attention back to you, his lips pressed firmly together.
“Thank you for protecting me back there,” you sighed.  Your voice had gone quiet, but the look on your face was indebted.
“Of course,” he whispered back.  His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, his brain clearly struggling to say the words he so desperately wanted to say.
The sight had you suppressing a giggle as you stepped forward, fighting back your reservations as you wrapped your arms around his torso in a hug, dropping your head into the crook of his shoulder and inhaling that scent that was oh-so familiar to you.  Disinfectant and oil, so clearly from living life on the Polar Tang, but also so distinctly him.
You loved it.
You were starting to come to the conclusion that you really loved him.
And with the way Law’s arms slowly wrapped around your own body, the hands you loved so much resting between your shoulder blades and the lowest point of your back, you started to wonder if he secretly, deep down in that weary heart of his, felt the same way about you.
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munsonsmixtapes · 2 days
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Helloooooo
I'm newer to your page ive been slowly reading your amazing stories.. are you still doing your prompt list stories?? I seen 3 that could work.. 40,42 and 43.. and it made me think or something possibly like this..
Eddie and (maybe plus sized) reader have been together for a while.. she sees a pretty girl/groupie flirting with him after the show (but she doesn't see him walking away from her or telling her that hes taken/not interested.. Reader just gets feral when they get home.. not realizing she's ovulating or something.. and just like gets her frustration out by begging Eddie to claim her fully or something..
sorry my brain has been all over the place.. I just can't get enough of him amd some stories have brought out some sides of me that i didnt know i had haha)
Hope that made sense.. I have a hard time getting what I have in my brain out.. which is why I don't write haha
Hello, lovely! Welcome! Thanks for the request!
Not proofread!
Eddie x fem!shy!plus size!reader
cw: MDNI 18+, smut (p in v), unprotected sex, fingering (f receiving) oral (f receiving), mention of pregnancy
Ever since you and Eddie had gotten together, he had made your relationship his entire personality. He would mention you every chance he got, letting everyone know that he was a taken man and that he was very lucky to have you. Whether it was in an interview, he talking about one of the many songs he had written about you, or introducing you to someone, it didn’t matter. He was so obsessed with you and had to let everyone know just how much he loved you.
Amongst his many nicknames for you, “my girl” was by far his favorite. He used it so often, so much love behind the words that it was clear to everyone that he was head over heels for you. He’d even go as far as singing the song to you while you made breakfast together, spinning you around the kitchen as the lyrics fell from his lips.
“This? Oh, my girl got it for me.”
“The next song is about my girl. I hope you enjoy it.”
“Everyone, I’d like you to meet my girl.”
You were his favorite topic of conversation to the point where it seemed that everyone knew that he was taken just by how much he brought you up in conversation, often unprompted. And anyone who didn’t know or did and flirted with him anyway, he would shut them down so quickly once he realized what was happening. He already had the best thing and wouldn’t have dreamed of ruining it.
You entered the concert venue as everyone was packing things up for the night. Corroded Coffin had just finished a show which you hadn’t been able to get to until after your shift at the bar down the street. You felt horrible for missing it even though Eddie had insisted that it was okay. He just appreciated that you were going to be there at all with your very busy schedule.
You were let in through the back doors and made your way down the hallway to find the all too familiar mop of hair. He was usually waiting right by the door for you, but he wasn’t there. You were starting to panic, but tried to calm yourself down, telling yourself that maybe he was in the bathroom or grabbing his belongings.
You looked all around the building until you spotted him outside his dressing room…talking to a girl. She was beautiful and she was making him laugh. She reached up and touched his hair and instead of stepping in like you knew you should have, you just turned on your heel to leave. You couldn’t watch another second.
What you hadn’t seen when you turned your back was Eddie removing the girls hand from his hair before dropping it. Now he understood what was happening. He took a step back from her until his back almost hit the door.
The thing about Eddie was that sometimes he wasn’t even aware that he was being flirted with. That was something that he still wasn’t used to after years in the industry because of the treatment he had received back home. He just thought they were being friendly until the touches came into play and that was always telltale sign. And then he’d let them down easy, not wanting to hurt their feelings, letting them know that his girl was waiting for him back home.
“Oh,” his eyes widened. “I’m so sorry. I have a girlfriend.” The girls face fell and she almost seemed disgusted by the fact that he was in a relationship.
“Oh,” she pouted. He always felt bad, letting the girls down, but he knew that one of his band mates would be happy to take them off his hands.
“But you know what? I heard that Gareth is looking for someone to take home, if you’re interested,” he winked and her face lit up again.
“Really?”
“Really,” Eddie nodded and opened the dressing room door where the other members of the band were hanging out. “Go get ‘em.”
The girl entered the room and Eddie let out a sigh of relief before turning to his left only to see you turning the corner. He didn’t know where you were going. You always waited for him so he didn’t understand why you were walking away.
He took off, racing after you so he could catch up. He almost tripped a few times, but he got to you, draping an arm over your shoulder as he fell into step with you.
“There’s my girl,” he let out a contented sigh before pressing a kiss to your temple. He tucked you into his side but couldn’t help but notice that you weren’t grabbing a hold of him like you usually did. You always had to be touching him so something was clearly off.
“Nothing to say, hm?” he asked, his lips still pressed to your skin. You weren’t usually talkative after work because you were usually overstimulated, but you would normally at last give him some sort of greeting.
Had he forgotten an important event? Maybe your birthday? No, that had already passed. Maybe your anniversary? No, that wasn’t until next month. Whatever it was, he definitely needed to apologize.
You and Eddie didn’t fight often, but when you did, it didn’t take very long for you both to make up. He was normally the first to apologize, hating to see the angry look on your face. He just wanted to make everything right so you could cuddle up in your bed. He just wanted you to be happy and hated when he was the one to be the cause of your unhappiness.
But he wanted to wait until you brought up what was bothering you. He never wanted to pry and hoped that you knew that he was willing to listen to whatever was going on in your head, no matter how ridiculous it seemed.
So, you spent the whole walk to his van and the whole ride home talking about your nights. He listened to you tell him about what happened at the bar and he told you how great the show went, not leaving out any detail.
It almost seemed like a normal night except for the obvious tension between the two of you. Neither one of you were going to be the first to bring it up, so it sat between you, like a jack in the box and you both were afraid to crank it first, not wanting to see the thing pop up.
Eddie rested his hand on your thigh like he normally did and even thought you were upset with him, you weren’t going to deny his affection. You loved the way his rough skin felt on yours and you felt like you needed him to show you just how much he wanted you.
You wanted him compliment you as he pounded into you, causing you to let out countless moans. You wanted to feel his lips everywhere. Your neck, your tits, your pussy. You just needed his head between your thighs so badly that you were getting wet just thinking about it.
Eddie pulled up to the house that you shared and was quick to help you out of the van, still keeping a hold of your hand as he opened the garage door. You pulled your hand out of his as soon as the door was open and headed inside.
He needed to beg if he wanted to get lucky. Not that it would take much for you to give in. You would have done anything he told you just by him flashing his million dollar smile, his dark brown eyes shining.
Eddie followed you into the house and up the stairs, noticing how loudly you were stomping as you took each step. He usually liked pissing you off just to get the reaction he liked, but never to this level. He had really fucked up and he didn’t even know what he had done.
You got to your shared room and slammed the door once you were inside. Eddie winced at the sound and decided that he finally had enough. He had to get to the bottom of the problem.
“Alright.” He opened the door, not even bothering to close it. He couldn’t go any longer without knowing why you were so pissed at him. “What’s on your mind?”
How could he not know? He was laughing with another girl then acted like it was nothing? Maybe he wasn’t into you as much as you thought. Maybe what you had wasn’t as special as you had assumed. Maybe this was just the beginning of the end.
“Nothing, Eddie. Let’s just go to bed.” You really weren’t in the mood to start another fight with him.
“No, we’re gonna talk about this.” He put his hands on his hips. Wayne always told him to never go to bed angry and he intended on sticking to that advice.
“Fine, you wanna know what’s wrong?” You crossed your arms over your chest.
“Tell me, angel,” he stepped forward. “Please.”
“I saw you with her.” His eyebrows furrowed, trying to figure out who you could have been talking about.
“With who?” He had no idea what you were referring to and just wanted you to come out and say it.
“The groupie outside your dressing room.” Oh. He had completely forgotten about her as soon as she entered the dressing room. He couldn’t believe you were jealous of her. You were always the only girl on his mind.
“You’re jealous,” he chuckled and you just scoffed. You couldn’t believe that he was laughing at your pain.
“So what if am?” He wasn’t expecting you to admit it so easily, but he appreciated the honesty.
“There’s no need to be jealous, honey,” he rested his hands on your shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “You’re the one I love, remember?”
He had always said the word so easily, so matter-of-fact, as if he was telling you the weather forecast.
“You love me.” You crossed your arms over your chest, needing a little more than that to be convinced.
“Of course I do.” He gave your shoulders another squeeze before sliding his hands down to yours, holding them.
“Prove it.” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him. You wanted proof, needed it in fact.
“What?” He let out a scoff at your words. It wasn’t like you to have so much confidence in your words. You were usually so shy and quiet, but he liked seeing this new side of you.
“Prove it,” you repeated and he just let out another chuckle.
“How am I supposed to do that?” He stopped laughing once he saw you weren’t joking. You meant what you said, but he was going to do whatever you asked. He just wanted you to not be upset with him anymore. He needed to see your pretty smile.
“Beg.” Your eyes darkened as you spoke and Eddie’s widened at how authoritative you had become. You were so hot like this.
“Beg?”
“Beg,” you removed one of your hands from his and pointed to the floor. “On your knees.” He didn’t know why he was finding your bossy behavior so hot, but his dick was definitely hardening.
Eddie lowered himself to the floor, your hands still in his. He looked up at you and you loved seeing him from that point of view. He looked so small unlike his usual tall stature.
“I love you so much, angel,” he said, bringing your hands up to his lips. “So so much. You’re my girl and I’d never even think about cheating on you. You have no reason to be jealous, I swear.”
He grabbed a hold of your waist, burying his face into your stomach. Your hands found their way into his hair, giving his scalp a scratch. You figured he had suffered enough, but just needed one more thing.
“I’m so sorry. I wish you had told me how you were feeling sooner so I could reassure you.”
“I know how you could reassure me.” You were trying to sound flirty, but weren’t sure if you were doing it right. Flirting was always Eddie’s thing.
“How?” He asked, pulling back to look up at you.
“I need you.” Eddie was quick to stand up, trying to understand what you mean.
“I’m right here, honey.” He pulled you into his arms, giving you a tight hug. His hand rubbed your back in a comforting manner and normally, you would have taken that, but not tonight. You needed more. You needed to feel his skin against yours. His cock inside you.
“No, Eddie. I need you.” Your eyes darkened again and he was finally catching on to what you were meaning.
“Oh,” he let out a laugh. “That was all you had to say.” He hands wrapped around your waist and he pulled you into a kiss, capturing your bottom lip between his two. He took no time to lick into your mouth while his hands reached for the bottom of your shirt. He pulled it up over your head and let it fall to the floor.
You unbuttoned his shirt and threw it behind you before attaching your lips to his, taking no time to plunge your tongue into his mouth. You backed him up to the bed and pushed him down onto it before straddling his waist.
“You’re so hot,” he breathed as your lips moved down to his neck, giving it a suck before moving back up to his mouth.
“You’re hotter.” Eddie quickly flipped you over so you were the one on the mattress and you let out a gasp at the sudden movement. He straddled your waist and pinned your wrists to the bed before going straight for your shoulder.
“No, baby. You’re the hottest. Your body is fucking killer.” Eddie loved your body. You weren’t skinny by any means, but that just gave him more love on. He loved pressing kisses to every inch of skin he could find, loving to give special attention to your stretch marks. He thought they were cute and that they made you unique.
“You think so?”
“I know so, honey,” he pulled back to look at you. “Want me to show you?” His face lit up as he said the words and it made you even more wet knowing that he was so happy to show you just how much he liked your body.
“Please,” you whined and he kissed his way down to your chest, pressing a kiss right in the center of it, right above the middle of your bra. “Take it off,” you commanded.
He pressed another kiss to the skin and moved his hands behind your back, unhooking it as slowly as he possibly could. He could hear your sighs of frustration and tried to hold back his chuckle. He very slowly undid each hook and removed the bra completely, letting it clatter to the floor beside the bed.
Eddie then pinned you back down to the mattress and looked down at you with a devilish grin. He was always such a fucking tease.
“You’re even hotter than I remember,” he complimented as he stared down at your tits.
“I got hotter just from last night?”
“Sure did. Now hush, honey. I’m about to do my best work.” He moved one of his hands to your nipple, massaging it with the pad of his thumb, just enough for to make it hard before he brought his mouth to it. He licked a stripe across it before giving it a suck.
“Oh,” you let out a moan and he took that as an invitation to bring it between his teeth giving it a little nibble. “Oh, Eddie.”
He did the exact same thing to the other nipple, eliciting more pretty sounds from you and he was eating it up. He loved that only he could get that reaction from you.
Eddie kissed his way down your stomach and stopped once he got to your waist. He pressed a featherlight peck to each of your stretch marks before looking up at you.
“Can I remove-“
“Yes,” you cut him off, getting desperate for him to get it over with.
“Needy,” he chuckled.
“And you’re a tease. I need your mouth on my clit.” You couldn’t take it anymore.
“Whatever the princess wants, the princess gets.” He unbuttoned your pants and pulled them off of you in one quick more before letting them fall to the floor in a messy pile behind him. He then reached for your underwear and slid them off before tossing them behind him. He lowered himself onto his knees then spread your legs and let out a whistle as he got a look at your pussy.
“Already wet for me, hm?” His fingers lightly grazed your cunt and you gave him that look that he knew all too well. You hated when he messed with you like this, but he did it just to see that angry look in your eyes. It never failed to make him hard. 
“I think we both know the answer to that.” Eddie liked you best when you were like that, all angry and bothered.
“Wow, doll,” his fingers stayed where they are, moving back and forth so you got a little sensation but not the full thing. Eddie liked it when you begged. “That just might be a record.” 
“Stop fucking around.” You usually liked the little games he liked to play, but not tonight.
“Someone’s eager,” he teased with a smirk and you were honestly on the verge of pleasuring yourself since he was taking too long. This was always how it went so you didn’t know why you ever expected anything different.  
“Of course I’m eager, I’m-” your words were cut off when Eddie thrusted his fingers into your pussy. “Oh.”
“That’s right, doll.” His fingers pumped in and out, causing you to let out a moan. 
“Eddie,” you whined and he just smirked. 
“Say my name, honey.” He continued, thrusting them harder and faster as you let out another moan, grasping as the bedding underneath you, needing something to grab onto.
“Need your mouth, Eds,” you mewled and he removed his fingers before draping your legs over his shoulders. He pressed a kiss to each thigh before diving into your pussy and you let out a gasp. He licked a stripe from your slit to your clit before shoving it into your pussy, swirling it around as your hands dug further into the bedding.
You let out a loud moan and Eddie only buried his face further into your cunt, grazing the thing with his teeth and that drove you wild. You almost screamed at the sensation and Eddie did it once more to hear the sound again. Your thighs tightened at the feeling, causing them the press against the side of his head and he spread them, removing himself from your cunt.
You let out a whine at his absence and he ripped off his pants, desperate to be inside you. He moved to his bedside table and reached for his box of condoms, only to find that it was empty.
“I’m okay with it if you are,” you told him, seeing what the issue was. And you were okay with it. You suddenly liked the idea of feeling his bare cock inside of you.
“You’re sure? What about-“
“If I get pregnant, I get pregnant,” you shrugged. The two of you had talked about having a baby and even discussed trying, but he didn’t think it would be so soon. He couldn’t have been more happy, though. He loved the idea of having a baby that was a product of the two of you making love to each other.
“You want to have a baby with me?” His face lit up. Sure, being a rockstar was cool, but he was convinced that being a father and husband were the roles he was convinced he was put on this earth for.
“I’d be honored to have a baby with you, Eds.” You didn’t know why he was asking since you had talked about it at length.
“Well, there’s no time like the present,” he smiled, ripping off his underwear. He lined himself up with your pussy and slowly slid his dick into you. You let out a small noise as the sensation. You never had unprotected sex before so it felt a little odd at first, but you had to admit that you liked the way it felt, that there was no barrier between his cock and your pussy.
Eddie slowly thrusted into you, wanting it to be nice and sweet for once. He wanted this to be a sweet moment between the two of you. Something you’d remember for the rest of your lives.
His hands gripped your hips as he pumped in and out, paying you compliment after compliment, showering you with the sweetest words as he thrusted inside you, assuring you of his love for you.
You let out moan after moan as he pumped into you and you grabbed onto him, pressing your face into his neck. His thrusted a little harder and your fingers dug into his back, but not enough to actually hurt him.
“Taking me so well, honey,” he said, pumping a little faster and harder. He was just testing the waters to see what you liked without the condom.
“Eddie,” was all you were able to say, your words getting slurred as your head leaned back.
“I know, princess,” he brushed some sweaty hair out of your face. “Got one more for me, hon?”
“One more,” you repeated. He gave a couple more thrusts, these ones harder and faster than before and you let out the most pretty moans he had ever heard come from your mouth. He hadn’t thought you’d liked it rough, but he supposed his was wrong.
He pulled out and lowered you to the mattress before cleaning you up and getting you some fresh pajamas from the drawer you had them tucked away in. He helped you change into them then got into his own before getting you both under the covers.
You turned over to face him and you wrapped your arms around each other, tangling your legs together as you did so. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he looked at you, the love of his life. God, he was so fucking lucky.
“I love you,” he smiled, bringing one of his hands up to your face and you smiled as well.
“I love you too.” He pressed a soft kiss to your lips in response.
“You’re going to be a great mom.” His thumb rubbed back and forth along your cheek and you closed your eyes, loving the way it felt. You could tell he meant the words, not only because he never said anything he didn’t mean, but also because of the way he looked when he said it, his eyes all soft and sweet.
“And you’re going to be a great dad.” He felt himself tearing up at your words and yours teared up too. He pulled you in for another kiss and the two of you drifted off to sleep, thinking of nothing but cribs and high chairs and the extra bedroom you had that would have made a perfect nursery. Maybe if things went right, you’d actually be parents.
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purgatorytf · 2 days
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I wanted to say how flattered I was to hear I inspired your first story, but it seems to me like you’ve had this TF magic in you all along 😉 You’re off to an incredible start, each of your stories has been so hot to read - I’m curious to see how you’d change me? You know how much I love writing about big, pussy obsessed straight men: I wonder if you’ll make me one or an item that a man like that uses and abuses. Have fun with it, bro!
First of all i really want to thank you and all the other people who've sent me nice messages. I've loved transformation for a while now, and i've been feeling like i wanted to give back so it's nice to hear that i've been able to do that so far.
Hearing that from you is especially gratifying because i really love your stories bro. They've really been an inspiration for me when writing my first ones. I guess that if this thing keeps working out for me and we keep writing about the same stuff… well we might have a bit of a rivalry on our hands haha…
"I wish i was joking … but honestly, i've really been thinking that. And honestly, you kinda offered yourself on a silver platter for me there. I'm sure you expected something fun with this but this is the perfect opportunity for me to take you out.
What's that look on your face ? This isn't what you wanted ? Well it's too late to turn back now bud. Besides, i already know exactly how you can be of use to me from now on"
With that, i snapped my fingers. You felt the effects instantly as your body wracked with immense pain. Twisting and distorting, your body adopted a new and improved form. You saw your skin become a pristine white as your flesh and bones restructured into a tightening weave of elastic fabric. You tried to scream at me to stop but you had already been silenced. Instead, your face reshaped itself into the front pouch of a pair of Calvin Klein underwear. As you fell on the floor, you struggled to take in your newly transformed world. Your mind was intact but all physical markers of who you once was were gone. Just a nice, brand new piece of clothing for me to ruin.
"Alright dude, just out of gratitude for the good times i had reading your stories, i'm willing you make you a deal. If you manage to keep your mind from breaking for one month then i will turn you back into a human. deal ? Well, i guess it's not like you have much of a choice anyway"
I took off my current underwear : a rank, soaked and yellowed thong. I threw it to the side on a pile of sportwear, all in a similarly perverted state.
"Don't look at the pile of used clothes over there bro. I promise you that it won't make you feel any better about what's coming for you" I stroked and jiggled my fat dick "And neither will looking at this huhu"
The literal gravity of your imminent fate set in. With a cocky smirk, i picked you up and slid you up my thick legs. Your wails of horror fell on deaf ears as your face pressed against my thick package, stretching and conforming to its every contour.
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"Hehe, you hug my nuts so tightly bro. It's almost like you were always meant to be down there, servicing my musky balls."
And musky they were. An immediate sensory overload took over your brain. The instant warmth made you gasp for air but all you could inhale were fumes of sweat and dried cum. This masculine stench quickly permeated the entirety of your being, making you struggle to form coherent thoughts. To top it all, the moistness made your body stick tightly against my manhood, unable to get away from this reeking nightmare.
"Sorry about that dude. I should warn you; once i start wearing a pair of undies, i never change out until they're ruined. That means that 24/7 for the next month i'm going to wear you, work out in you, sweat in you, i'm even gonna cum in you. Oh bro, i'm gonna completely wreck you."
"I promise you that it shouldn't even take a month to completely break you. But try not to panic, there's a moment when you'll embrace your new purpose as my nice, sweaty underwear and it'll all become very pleasant. If or when that happens is completely up to you bro. You get to choose if this experience will be a disgusting or a pleasurable one. But remember, your humanity is on the line huhu."
The reality of your new life for the coming month fully dawned on you. Sweat. Piss. Cum. Constantly. What you had been writing and reading about on your blog for fun finally became your intoxicating reality. You were worried your brains were already melting. How the hell were you supposed to last an entire month ??? You were struggling and begging for mercy against my big … snug …. balls …
Your suffering psyche desperately tried to rationalize what was happening to you. Maybe this was possible … You could just … take care of my goods for a month and then … everything would be fine. You just had to …. not break…
I laughed in satisfaction as i pressed you further against my cock. Inspiration for a hot new story already struck me but i needed to go work out first. I wanted to get you all nice and soaked so that i could get you to enjoy this.
"No hard feelings bro."
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taylor-titmouse · 3 days
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Shrinking Violet is out! another of @petitemortality R/L Monroe's wonderful erotic shorts, with another cover by yours truly >:) i've been saying it on nearly every promo post i make for this but if you're one of the people who has wanted me to write f/f, you're legally obligated to read this one. below is the sales copy, and then below that some discussion of the process for designing the cover!
Nobody at college knows that shy, nervous Maya had a 'bad boy' reputation in high school - and Maya is the only one who knows tough, rebellious Nasrin used to be a sweet-tempered teacher's pet. Mutual attraction is rekindled when their paths cross again, but the two find their old dynamics have been flipped on their head. Maya finally knows what she wants, and Nasrin is bold enough to give it to her...that is, if she can bring herself to ask. Will their first time be perfect the second time around? 7k words, EPUB and PDF format. This is the second in the Fuck Yourself Friday series of shorts. New stand-alone erotic stories are released on the last Friday of every month. FYF 1: Go Fuck Yourself These stories contain explicit sexual content, and are intended for 18+ audiences.
Contains: -F/tF -transfem sub -outdoor sex -praise kink -soft penis stimulation -non-penetrative sex
THUMBNAILS
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this one was very straightforward with the request: "the image I have in my mind for a cover is someone's fingers knotted in a skirt spread out against wildflowers. but more in the sort of gripping your own skirt gently kind of way, somewhere between anxious and excited if that makes sense. I'm thinking like you know the classic soft grunge tumblr aesthetic photo vibe. type of shit you'd post next to a closeup of a skinned knee in long socks"
very easy instructions to follow! so while i usually prefer to do 3 thumbnails, i only ended up with 2. there's only so many ways you can depict a hand on a skirt, after all. and we decided that we wanted to continue with the style i established with the first one, with silhouettes, lineless art, and bold textures. we liked the first one more, but wanted to get some leg in there.
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i proposed adding black pantyhose to the narrative to make it work on the cover (i have changed prose to match what i drew for illustrations Many times) but we went with bare leg in the end
FINISHING
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so i didn't actually do a sketch for this one, just went straight to rendering. as we all know i use gradient maps a lot in my work, so i gave lee a choice between a bright, springy palette, and a wetter, darker palette. i also offered it with the border, or with the skirt going over it. personally i like the skirt going over it, but the border keeps it consistent and more book-cover-y, so we went with that. lee chose the darker palette, which suits the story much better
but the font didn't fit! too vintage for the story, which takes place in modern day.
fonts time :^)
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we went with the third option for the contrast. and also added a raindrop to the flower (which got moved to the right petal in the final draft). gently touching petals, wetness, This Is Yuri.
and the final result is as above!
anyway you should all read this story, it's incredibly sweet childhood-best-friends-to-lovers and in itself a love letter to trans femininity. i highly recommend it, and it's only $3!
go and get it!
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seriousbrat · 1 day
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you said james changed but did he? no apology in sight... still tricking lily and going behind her back to hex snape.. leaving his wife and newborn alone in their secret hiding spot to mess with muggles..
genuinely lol what is this 'leaving their hiding spot to mess with muggles' thing, I think you're the second anon who has claimed something like that recently and it's like.... where lmao. when did that happen? who r these muggles? 😭
if you're referring to the prequel, that was almost certainly, like 100% certainly, before harry was born when lily and james were fighting for the Order along with the rest of the Marauders and not in hiding. This is what Lily says, years later, in her letter to Sirius:
James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell -- also, Dumbledore's still got his Invisibility Cloak, so no chance of little excursions. If you could visit, it would cheer him up so much.
doesn't that imply he wasn't sneaking out? and if he had left the hiding spot in the past it was "little excursions" with Lily's full knowledge and approval, with the safety of the cloak. I don't see the big deal, and it's possible that Lily was leaving the house on occasion too when they had the cloak.
people are so determined to see things in the worst possible light it's kind of funny. It's not enough that James was a dickhead and a bully in canon, he has to be this insidious abusive master manipulator guy who somehow conned Lily "you make me SICK" Evans into marrying her and having a kid with him. Like, no offence but it's just not that deep.
We don't see how he changed because the story isn't about him, it's about his son, but there's plenty of evidence that he did, a BIG example being that a girl who couldn't stand the sight of him and was extremely vocal about the fact ended up marrying him. Something changed, and it's just highly unlikely that James, a fictional character, constructed an elaborate ruse behind the scenes that we see no evidence for to trick Lily, and every other character, into thinking he was an entirely different person. If that had been the author's intent for these characters who, btw, do not exist outside the text we're given, there would be proof of it. Rather, we're given evidence he 'deflated his head' and that lily fell in love with him and that they were happy together.
I've already said it but I don't think James not telling her about fighting with Snape (who, let it be said, at that point was also instigating) is a good thing. Obviously. It's dishonest and he should have told her. But I also think a likely reason he didn't tell her was not wanting to hurt her. That doesn't make it okay, but there can be problems and slip-ups and things to work through in a relationship without it being some big evil insidious manipulation.
Sev hid all sorts of things from her too, important things like "I'm thinking about joining the Death Eaters btw lol". People lie and hide things, especially teens. Maybe the simplest explanation here, rather than this weird jamespiracy thing, is that a seventeen year old boy was kind of shit sometimes but ultimately dedicated his life to protecting others, fought bravely in a war, grew tf up, and sacrificed himself to save his wife and child.
idk like to me it's not that deep, and it's continually bonkers to me that some snape fans will have wildly different standards for their innocent baby boy (idk him) than they do for every other character. bro did way worse stuff than not telling his gf he was getting into fights, james did worse stuff, and yet I still love them both and u wont convince me not to
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dk-ghostmachines · 2 days
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I gotta talk about FourDogs (again)
It's barely about her, though. I think "he's so lucky his dad was brutally murdered" and "people with trauma need a second handicap because they're too motivated" are such absolute-the-fuck-ly bonkers takes, they're not even worth the time it took me to get mad about them, which was immediately. This time around, I have way more to say about audience reception. I'll try to keep it civil.
It feels like a lot of us are responding from increasingly personal places because these are characters with which a lot of us identify, or we see traits in them that remind us of people from our real lives. And hey! Another performance and storytelling slay on the part of one Brennan Lee Mulligan. Who else can invent 50+ characters every year and play them to the point where any one of them can evoke both an "omg that's literally me!" and an "omg that's literally Dani, the girl that bullied me all of freshmen year until I punched out her front tooth in the student parking lot and got in-school suspension for a month!". And whether Kipperlily reminds you of Dani, or reflects your own anxieties about potential, ability, and trauma, an important thing to remember is this: she is not real!
Brennan made her up! Brennan made her up to tell a story, and when he made her up, he made her annoying, petty, antagonistic, and he gave her not just opposing goals to the the protagonists we know and love, but the explicit goal of ruining The Bad Kids' lives, specifically.
Now, I'm not saying she's fictional to be a dick, or dismiss any deeper readings on her or any of the Rat Grinders. I'm bringing it up because the way I'm seeing people talk to each other about these characters is starting to get a little wild and it's in danger of waking up The Olde Gods™ (i.e. the special brand of Tumblr Self-Righteousness that lives inside us all).
It's important to remember Kipperlilly is a character in a fictive work so that different interpretations of her don't get treated as stone law. Each reading of her is personal and valid, but none are gospel. The "Kipperlilly is but a victim" take is not the only correct one, nor is radical empathy for her as a character the only correct reaction. Also, even if I consider her sympathetic that is not incompatible with an opinion like "Kipperlilly needs to get roundhouse'd in the head by a lesbian in a tracksuit and/or a wizard in a jean jacket, posthaste". Sure, you can say that anyone who doesn't feel a deep and eclipsing empathy for Kipperlilly above all other emotions is immature at best and sociopathic at worst, but then I can just say anyone who demands solely empathy for Kipperlilly and excuses her literal crimes and bass-ackwards world view because she's insecure and has anger issues, is probably also someone who has a history of weaponizing whatever minority status they may or may not occupy to talk over, silence, or harass people of color.
They're both just opinions. And also, like. Y'know. A bit much.
To engage in the long and rich tradition of measuring character trajectories against those in the Avatar: The Last Airbender cartoon, let's compare Kipperlilly to Azula. Azula had an incredibly sympathetic backstory and untreated mental health issues. Azula was also a danger to herself and others, as well as profoundly manipulative and abusive (although, it was a children's show so Azula never killed anybody for whatever that's worth). Do I wish that fourteen-year-old girl had an Iroh-type in her life? Literally one adult who loved her genuinely and advocated for her best interests? Of course I do. I saw the Ember Island episode, I watched that one video essay! Does that mean it was any less satisfying to watch Zuko and Katara kick her absolute ass? No! And it was non-lethal anyway, children's show, duh.
That brings me to my other thing; Kipperlilly is a character in a fictive work that is not finished. And I know that point will age poorly, but I'm thinking it won't be the only one (hey-o). Remember the people that were calling The Bad Kids bullies? And then we learned that Kipperlilly hated Riz because his fucking dad fucking died?? And that was a full academic year before getting reanimated by a rage god?? I'll do a tame one; remember when Gilear wasn't cursed?? He was "just a guy"?? The show is serialized, gang, the world is still building! Clerickiller is not done yet, y'all need to let her cook! I'm sure we'll tune in next week to see her graduate from "unhinged" to "unaffiliated with the door frame or any frame-like structure". Reprimanding people on Tumblr will not change the trajectory of this character who, by the way, has not expressed remorse or any desire for a path other than violence. You look me in my black face after your blorbo slits a kid's throat and say "help her"?? Kipperlilly doesn't want get better right now, she wants one thing and that's for Kristen Applebees to go fuck herself and die!! You were there, you heard it!! When the fictional behavior changes, as it often does in stories, so will my opinion. There is no fore-forgiveness. Without an actual redemption arc I will continue to see the villain as a villain.
Speaking of, I think what some people have an issue with is the level of hate Kipperlilly's getting and how aggressive it is. But like.... isn't that allowed?? Because of all the stuff I said but also because like, mama said that it was okay! And by "mama" I mean Siobhan Thompson who said Kipperlilly belongs under the jail. Sure, in the real world, adults don't tell kids they belong in the ground that's crazy fucked up, but all these kids are played by adults and Emily as Fig joked that she was gonna smite the sixteen-year-old girl played by the thirty-something man. You're telling me the antagonist antagonizes the protagonists, and the protagonists go "boo, hiss" and then I, the audience, go "boo, hiss as well" but I'm wrong? I'm wrong, somehow, cool checks out.
"They're XP Levelling*punches a locker*!!"
"That girl is worse than Kalvaxus."
"Littledoggy Girlcollar"
Am I not engaging with the narrative on it's own terms if I say "i'd tell Clerickiller to die mad, but she clearly already did, Jojo Siwa head-ass, in reference to that fuck-ass ponytail and your toxic yuri" Do I need to draw a little caitmay-style OC to say it for me, would that be better?
God-forbid, we have fun? Must we discourse, always? FourDogs is tragic, FourDogs is compelling, FourDogs is Dani from 9th grade. She is Azula from Avatar and Clare from Fleabag and Brennan Lee Mulligan from my dreams and that is something that can be so personal. But no one else has to participate in your parasocial relationship. What's crazy is, I actually like Kipperlilly! As a character. I mean, the "trauma is privilege" obviously hit a nerve with me because of real life stuff, but the image of her over the rogue teacher's grave?? With a backhoe and a "gotcha, bitch" expression??? Come on, that is fresh-off-the-vine Cunt™. Even more so than I imagined that moment to be when we first heard about it. Her ending up in a Ragh or Aelwyn place would be way more satisfying than a Goldenrod or Penelope Everpetal place, BUT IT WILL ALSO be satisfying to see whatever Kipperlilly's version of the locked-in-a-chokehold-and-being-gaslit-into-thinking-you-shit-the-coach's-pants-scene is. In addition to the non-lethal ass-kicking that proceeds it.
Y'all can chuck the insinuation that something so clearly subjective is actually objective and has moral implications that make me bad, directly in the garbage. What is this, religion, hey-o.
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miscling · 3 days
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Edgeslut Loop
‘So if I cum, the day resets.’
‘And everyone forgets?’
‘Everyone except me and the person who made me… but only if they know about my ability…’
‘That explains… so much, actually…’
You were popular, successful, and religiously into denial. If all it took to have another go was to have a wank and orgasm, then you could go back and try again…
‘I’m… This is why you wouldn’t let me make you cum? But… Wait…?’ a thought occurred to me, as I glanced at the clock. It was early in the day, nothing lost if I reacted badly and you had to start over. ‘Have you told me about this before?’
‘Once,’ you admitted. ‘It didn’t go well, it was… too soon.’
‘Thank you for being honest, but why now?’
‘There’s something I really want to try…’ you said.
The first step was easy: lock you in chastity for the rest of the day. No chance of backing out, no chance of changing your mind. No chance of you cumming and resetting the day so that I wouldn’t remember.
When we came back together that evening, the second step could be put into action. Your reset point was 8am, and if you started the day gagged, blindfolded, and in bondage…
Just before midnight, the fun began. I tied you down and let you sleep tied up, though neither of us slept particularly well for the excitement planned for the day ahead.
I woke up at 8am, and watched you, still asleep. It was perfect. Moving as quietly as I could, I reached for your magic wand. I’d start your day with a bang, literally. Did you really think I’d believe such a far-fetched story just like that? I pushed the wand into your sweet spot and put it on maximum.
It didn’t take you long to wake up, or much longer to realise what I was going to do. Your body thrashed, forcing me to hold you down with my other hand so I could pull the hardest orgasm out of you I could. You exploded with pleasure, shaking with the vibrator until you collapsed.
I blinked. ‘So when does it h–’
My eyes opened, 8am. ‘–appen?’ I sat up in bed. You were asleep, bound. ‘Huh! It works!’
My exclamation woke you up.
‘Okay, let me try again…’ I said, and made you cum again in five minutes. You tried to resist, but I didn’t let you win. On the next loop, I waited to see when you would wake up naturally. That became my target.
After that, I started stimulating you before you woke up again, seeing how long I could stimulate you for before you woke up. When you did, I made you cum and started over. For at least a week, you knew nothing but constant stimulation.
When that grew old, I started testing things. We didn’t reset if I ruined your orgasm, so I started seeing how many ruins I could get out of you in a day. I’m certain you would have killed me if you hadn’t been tied up, but you didn’t give the safeword signal.
You didn’t give the safeword signal for a month, and I kept going. I could take breaks, some days setting up a vibe on you and going for a walk, calling a friend, or trying every take-out place in the area. I considered taking off your gag for a day or two just to check in, but I figured your mind is probably utterly gone, all in the space of a single endlessly looping day.
So I kept going. It has been… about a year now. I am still finding new ways to torment you, and like you asked, I'm not letting you go until 8am tomorrow.
Now, time for your next orgasm…
~~~
Inspired by this ask from @themiracleengine to write a smut story based in a time-loop.
Reblog if you enjoyed this story, and check out my others under the Miscling Writes tag!
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alitherandom · 1 day
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Bad Batch is almost over so I'm going to ramble. If anyone can relate, please reply or reblog. Share what this show has meant to you, share your thoughts, share theories, tag people. Let's give it a send off.
Star Wars has been a massive part of my life for years.
I loved everything about the Clone Wars, the world building, the character development for the jedi, but most of all the clones. As someone who finds it hard to read faces, it was fun getting to know each of the clones as individuals with their own personalities and I actually never had any issues telling them apart. It hits hard, I think that's what makes their stories even more tragic.
Echo and Fives are my favourite Star Wars characters so I was really happy when Echo came back in Clone Wars season 7. That was why I decided to watch the Bad Batch- it then became my favourite series.
I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to do when this show ends. I think the hardest part is not knowing what the galaxy has in store for the batch and where it could go from here. Whatever happens I’ll always be grateful for the experiences I've had as part of this community over the last few years.
I think that's what's great about being part of a fandom. Seeing all the different ideas and projects that get put out there every day as well as knowing everyone else is in just as much suspense as I am. I haven't interacted on here that much until the last few months, but I check the tags a lot and all the fanart has been immaculate. The writers and artists are crazy talented and work so hard, I admire the level of dedication and aspire to be like that. 😂
I'm also really grateful for the three seasons we got with Clone Force 99.
Seeing Echo go from a shiny in the Clone Wars to becoming who he is now. (I could talk about that for ages, but I'll save that for another post.)
Seeing Crosshair regain his trust in the batch and get to change.
Seeing Hunter step up for his brothers and Omega.
Seeing more sides to Wrecker's strength.
Seeing Omega go from that kid who'd never seen dirt before to learning from her brothers and proving how brave she is.
And lastly, seeing Tech make the choice he did back in season 2. It wasn't easy to watch, because he deserved more time and there was definitely a massive hole in season 3 without him.
I'm not ready to say goodbye to any of them.
My favourite episodes in season 1 were the last few, when Kamino fell. It was the end of an era as well as a new beginning.
My favourite episode in season 2 was episode 8. I was really proud of Echo, plus he got a hug from Omega which I have admittedly rewatched far too many times.
My favourite episodes in season 3 were episodes 13 and 14. The stakes have been so high and it's been great seeing Echo's ARC skills in action again. (Plus the dialogue with Rampart was top tier. Hate that guy, but it was hilarious.)
I'm well aware of all the theories for the finale. I'm choosing to ignore most of them, but I’d like to present my own.
I hope Echo gets to finish what Fives started and the clones can finally be free, including Tech if he's CX2. I hope the batch gets to burn Tantiss to the ground and fly off into the sunset with Omega and the kids from the vault, and then I hope they continue a lifetime of bullying Rampart. I also hope Emerie gets to whack Hemlock with a steel chair, and then the Zillo beast can eat him.
…After all, Star Wars is based on hope, right?
If anyone actually ended up reading this to the end you're a real one- have a great final Bad Batch eve, and may the force be with you.
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Round 2, Group A: Matchup 1
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Ayin vs Kim Dokja
Reasons for being generic + Propaganda below
Ayin
Reasons:
Generic face, generic black hair. He did commit a lot of crimes but he has the most bland appearance of all time
he is the generic anime boy in the grip meme and he has black hair and yellow eyes but he's so apathetic and normal it causes him to turn away from all the people he committed atrocities against
Designed as a mock of the "everyman" - scruffy black hair, black suit, white labcoat. Only thing that stands out are his yellow eyes.
Kim Dokja
Reasons:
Everything about him screams generic. Generic hair generic face generic eyes (dare I say: generic name). Multiple times in the story he tried to pass himself off as one of his (much handsome-r) companions and everyone is like. Hmmmm I'm not too sure about that. I've heard he's a lot more handsome and you're kind of mid. There's practically a running gag wherein his closest companions say something like "wow kdj has anyone ever told you that you're ugly"
Chapter one he tells us that he’s an ordinary salary worker with no friends whose most interesting hobby is reading webnovels on the subway. This hobby proves to be useful thanks to the entire plot of the story but there is a running gag that people think he looks mid or can’t remember what he looks like at all
Propaganda:
"Hi my name is Kim Dokja :) no there isn't anything weird or off-putting about me :) I am a perfectly normal man :)" <- real quote from Kim Dokja seconds before doing something weird and off-putting Jokes aside he is. Very very generic. It's an actual element in the plot that he's generic. He also keeps trying to convince everyone else he's just some normal dude but he's NOT and they DO NOT BELIEVE HIM He also keeps trying to pass himself off as his much more handsome companion and it only works because they've never seen him before (there's at least three paragraphs every time this happens of "hm no I heard YJH is really handsome. This guy is kind of ugly ngl")
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gyulinoo · 16 hours
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yours, truly. | ot5
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a/n: and the most creative title maker goes to .... *drumrolls* BEA 1!1!!!1!!1! (i'm supposed to be studying for finals but the brainrot is consuming me rn.)
pairing: non-idol!ot5 x gn!reader (separately)
summary: basically some silly ot5 hcs on who i think would be the yapper/listener in a relationship
warnings: intentional lowercase, but other than that, nothing !!
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choi soobin — 최수빈 .ᐟ
no cuz have u seen that man argue with his members friends ...
(#1 yapper istg)
like i doubt he'd be any different when he's in a relationship
you'd always have to listen every time (which you'd gladly do)
would probably send random voice messages of him yapping about the members teasing him that day 😭😭
as you listened to soobin's voice messages, quickly overflowing your chats, his voice filled with a mix of exasperation and amusement. "you won't believe what they're going on about now," he chuckled "it's like they've found their new favorite hobby!"
you couldn't help but giggle in response, imagining the scene playing out in your head. "what are they teasing you about this time?" you'd ask, already expecting some weirdly hilarious anecdote.
"oh, you know, the usual," he replied with a message. "apparently, i'm the official target for their entertainment!"a
you laugh again. "well, at least you're providing them with some sort of entertainment," you send another message.
soobin sends another voice message, this time with a sarcastic tone in his voice. "yeah, lucky me,"
choi yeonjun — 최연준 .ᐟ
i feel like it varies with him
DEPENDS ON HIS MOOD FOR THE DAY REALLY 😓
maybe on some days he'd be the one listening while on other days he'd be the one yapping
EITHER WAY he's still a good listener !!
you'd come home from your workplace tired and you just need to spill out your worries and yap yourself to sleep (while cuddling with him)
exhaustion weighed heavy on your shoulders as you drag yourself through the front door, the days work still echoing in your mind. all you wanted was to collapse onto the couch and let your sleep consume you. but, as if sensing your weariness, yeonjun walked in, a comforting presence in the dimly lit room.
without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting hug. "rough day?" he asked, his voice soft.
you nodded, too drained to form a response. "i just need to rest," you managed to mumble, leaning into his embrace.
"of course," yeonjun whispered, pressing a kiss on your forehead. "i got you."
nestled against his chest, you felt a sense of peace wash over you as fatigue tugged on your eyelids to shut. "i love you." you murmured one last time before drifting off to sleep.
"i love you too," he smiled against your head. "sweet dreams."
choi beomgyu — 최범규 .ᐟ
personally i think he comes close to soobin !!
he yaps a lot (soogyu arguments......)
he's probably a good listener (i'm not so sure about this one guys.. 😓😓)
like a lot of the times he comes to you and yaps about arguments he's had with soobin (or others, mostly soobin probably) but then whines when you don't swoop in to take his side 😭
as beomgyu settled beside you, his head finding its usual place on your shoulder. you sensed something was amiss. beomgyu's voice carried a faint edge, a hint of frustration as he recounted the playful argument he'd had with his friend earlier. "you won't believe what soobin said this time!" he began, launching into the details of their playful disagreement.
listening intently, you couldn't help but smile at the animated way he described their exchange, when he reached the climax of his story, his tone shifted, a touch of indignation creeping in. "can you believe he actually said that?" he exclaimed, looking up at you with a mixture of disbelief and annoyance.
you chuckle softly, trying to diffuse the tension with a light-hearted comment. "well, maybe he has a point,"
to your surprise, beomgyu's response was immediate, a mocking gasp escaping his lips as he lifted his head off your shoulder. "you're taking his side??" he protested, a pout forming on his lips.
as if caught off guard, you laughed, reaching out to pull him back into the comfort of your shoulder. "you have to admit, he did have a point,"
reluctantly, he relented, sinking back against your shoulder with a dramatic sigh. "fine, whatever." he conceded, wrapping an arm around your waist.
kang taehyun — 강태현 .ᐟ
SUCH A GOOD LISTENER UGGFHHFHQ
i can't stress how much i think that he'd be a really really good listener
something inside me just tells me so (the voices.)
you can literally yap to him about ANYTHING. one time you were yapping about which goes first; cereal or milk, and he just sits there listening intently (like a good bf 🫶🫶🫶🫶)
you and taehyun lounged on the couch, the conversation drifted to one of those timeless debates; cereal or milk first. with a playful glint in your eye, you launched into your carefully considered stance on the matter, each point delivered with exaggerated seriousness.
"you see," you began. "it's all about logistics. pouring the cereal first allows for better control over portion size and ensures an even distribution of toppings."
taehyun chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as he listened to your impassioned monologue. "but think about it," he countered, his tone teasing. "pouring the milk first prevents the cereal from getting soggy too quickly."
you raised your eyebrow, considering his argument before shaking your head with a smirk. "ah, but where's the joy in living on the edge?" you retorted, unable to resist a playful jab.
as you both bantered back and forth, the debate evolving into a light-hearted exchange of opinions, you couldn't help but marvel at the simple pleasure of sharing such trivial matters with taehyun.
huening kai — 휴닝카이 .ᐟ
probably similar to yeonjun
like he yaps sometimes but he takes it into consideration that you'd also need to yap too sometimes
i feel like you'd both yap about your days at work during the weekend, like he'd yap and you listen, vice versa
saturday morning finds you both nestled in the cozy embrace of your shared bed, lazily entwined in the warmth of the sheets. with the sunlight filtering through the blinds, casting a soft glow around you and huening kai, you both indulged in the simple pleasure of sharing details of your whole week.
as you recounted your adventure with your friends from the previous day, huening kai listened with rapt attention, his eyes sparkling with amusement at each twist and turn of your story. "and then," you exclaimed, punctuating your story with exaggerated gestures, "we stumbled upon this hidden gem of a café, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city."
"maybe we should go there sometime!" he recommended, eyes lighting up as you mention the word 'café', suggesting that it could be a new place for you and him to go on a date.
"sure, maybe sometime." you responded as you stop telling your story and it's now his turn to share a story.
as you both traded anecdotes and shared some laughs, the boundaries between past and present blurred, each memory weaving seamlessly into the fabric of your shared narratives, in the comfort of your shared bed, surrounded by the remnants of sleep and the promise of a lazy morning ahead.
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please reblog if you enjoy!!!
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sabahs-stuff · 13 hours
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Manifest appearance change. (Weight loss/gain)
(Success story)
❏First and foremost, Yeah, I know you shouldn't let go of your manifestation. Like detaching from your manifestation bla bla..
However, I have noticed that actively affirming appearance change is difficult for me because I love looking at my reflection in the mirror all the time. And I've to constantly remind myself to affirm. Every time I affirm, one of my inner voices started stating the opposite.
I weighed 47kg (I'm 5'3; I know it's the ideal weight, but I wanted to gain a little more). It was difficult for me to eat more. I believe it was about April 14 or 15. I decided to quit trying to eat more. I started to joke that I was gaining weight without eating,"are u kidding me? I'm eating nothing and also skipping dinner these days, so how tf am I gaining weight?" Some of my friends even laughed at me.🙂
Then, out of nowhere, my sister began complaining that I had gained weight, then few days ago I went to the doctor for a checkup, and they also measured my weight, it's 51KG now. Mind you, I skipped a lot of meals and wasn't eating at all. It was during the Mercury retrograde. I was quite depressed and saddened also someone so close to me died. But it took me like 10 days to gain 4kg. If that's not shocking idk what is.
So, this is what I did (•_•)
Reminder : "If you could make yourself believe that you have the exact appearance you desire, it would change"
Every time I ate, I told myself, "I should be dieting." And look at what I'M doing. I should start working out before it's too late. And that is all. Then I didn't even affirm anything during the day, ( I believe that if you make your brain believe that you're prettiest little creature on the planet and your existence is a service to the humanity then that's how it would be. And my toxic trait is that I believe my presence is a blessing to the humanity. (Sorry I'm a Leo moon can't help)😂
every time I looked in the mirror, I said, "Wtf? I'm gaining weight . "Shit, I need to diet." And trust me when I tell you at that exact moment your brain is going send you a thought "Stop lying; you're still skinny bitch"
But don't forget that you get to select what happens in your reality. If your mind wants to offer you lemons, make lemonade.😂
I said, "Yes, that's correct. If I want to lose my weight I need to affirm I'm still skinny" and I kept on saying "I need to lose weight or I'll gain more weight" just tricked my brain into thinking that I'm chubby and attempting to manifest becoming skinny. And I didn't focused on the end goal; I wasn't obsessed with it; I didn't give a damn about it, but whenever I noticed a little change, I freaked out as if something terrible had happened. And believe me when I say I freaked out it was Oscar worthy😂
I Remember, the first thing I noticed was that my arm was looking a bit chubby. I was screaming and even fake crying, 😭 "Damn this embarrassing, I need to work out, I'm gaining weight." I then searched and downloaded weight loss workouts online.
Trust me I was living the moment 😂. literally living in the end. It was easy at the time because my brain was literally blank. I had no feelings or emotions, so I fed my brain whatever I wanted, and it ate every thought I gave it. I'm happy with my weight now.
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I'm now 51kg this is just a photo I saved from Pinterest but this is my Desired type-
Here are some tips:
Your appearance is constantly changing with your affirmations and beliefs. So don't doubt whether this is going to work or not. 
Your manifestation will take time, depending on you and your beliefs.
And about mental health, I would post about it later, but it's important.
The more you visualize, the faster it will become a reality.Visualise everything; literally, everything you want, VISUALIZE 🙌 stay in your head
The amount of things I changed and manifested in my life is crazy; it's different for each person. But it took me a year to fully understand manifestation. So give yourself time. Spend time with yourself; the better you know yourself, the better you'll get in manifestation. Best advice: talk to yourself (in your head, of course, or others would think you're crazy, lol 😹.)  gossip with yourself; if you want to be tall tell yourself that you're tall and stick to it refuse to let go. ✊🏻
Hope you like it. It's my first ever post but clearly not the last 😉 feel free to ask any questions. 🩷
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lilysundragon · 15 hours
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The Quality Dip in Enstars' Writing
Enstars' writing quality has always been a little up and down. I've read through a decent chunk of Basic not ALL of the stories are bangers but the ones that hit, they hit hard. There's a reason we all still talk about stories like Meteor Impact or Checkmate or, hell, my personal favorite: Requiem.
Although I think there are some really strong stories in Music like Sudden Death and Obbligato, I think that for the most part we can all agree that the writing isn't up to par. I think the first warning signs any of us really got that things were going into the shitter tho was Mad Tea Party. KnightsP kicked up a fuss about the continuity error but despite that little controversy, the errors in the stories just seem to be growing worse. From massive character pivots like Kuro suddenly treating sewing like it's just a cute little hobby to Natsume acting completely out of character in Switch climax, it seems like the writers have stopped treating the stories with the same care and attention to detail that the major stories in Basic era had. And it's really sad.
The Enstars writers have announced that they'll no longer be credited on stories (source), I think it's pretty obvious WHY they're doing this. People were NOT happy with the new Alkakurei event and leaving out the names of the writers working on the stories will certainly mitigate the harassment. I want to firmly state that sending death threats is NOT and will never be okay but I do think that it's a little alarming to know that the Enstars staff don't seem to be learning from the mistakes of the past year.
I'm a KnightsP. I'm highly biased. Although I do not condone the actions of fans who took it too far (again sending death threats is NOT the answer) I had hoped that the fuss would discourage Happy Elements from being careless with the stories in the future. People are so, so attached to these characters. The fans are passionate, motivated, highly creative people who have kept this franchise alive for NINE years. It's important to listen to their feedback so long as it's reasonable and calmly stated. I had hoped that the KnightsP were big enough that they could prevent other units from suffering a similar fate. It's kind of obvious that it isn't going to happen though. Stories continue to release that completely contradict previously established lore and mischaracterize the idols we've come to love.
I know it's hard to the writers to heed every single story ever written. There is a MASSIVE amount of lore to Enstars that has occurred over the past nine years. I also think however that just putting in the effort would go a long way to appease fans. Right now it feels like some of the writers are doing the bare minimum research for a franchise that used to have a lot of love and care put into it. If fanfic writers who put all this love and creativity into the world for free can afford to have beta readers I think Mr. Happy Elements has the means to do it too.
TLDR: I guess what I'm saying is, I've been disappointed by the quality of story writing this past year and I don't see it improving without Happy Elements taking in constructive feedback. I sincerely hope the new change in anonymity allows the writers more freedom to be creative and expressive but I don't think that will be the case.
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Note
hi I hope can you can a yandere scott and jean with child reader haunted mansion au please.
Hahaha, yes! So, Reader in this, I'm imagining they are a random kid who was dropped off at the wrong house. Let's see how it goes-
The house was really cold, you'd noticed.
And dusty.
And old.
It seemed rather large, with too many doors and too many paintings and too many mirrors and too many cobwebs to count. It seemed... abandoned. Lonely. And it made you scared. You were trying not to cry, you were trying to be a big kid, but it was hard when every time you walked the floor creaked, and spooky noises came from deep inside the twisting halls.
You were rather happy, then, to see someone. A tall someone, who wore bright red glasses.
"Hello? Can you hear me?" you called, your voice a loud whisper that echoed in the vast void of the room. That caught the attention of the tall person, who was a older teen. He looked pretty shocked to see you.
"What the...?" he said, then came closer. It was quite apparent now that you were tiny compared to him. Yet the moment he was near, you latched onto his leg, hugging it. "Um, hey, kid? Um... how. How did you get in here?"
"I was left here. They said this was where the babysitter was," you answered. He was really cold, almost freezing, like snow. It was weird, but he seemed nice. "Are you the babysitter?"
For a moment he looked conflicted, then he scooped you up, holding you rather gently. "Um, yep. For tonight. My name's Scott, what's yours?" He carried you through the different rooms, until you reached a dining room, setting you down on a chair carefully. For a minute he seemed to flicker, but it must have been a trick of the light...
"Oh... I'm Reader..."
"Huh... that's... that's a good name. Did you need anything?"
"I don't kn-"
"Scott!"
Another teenager soon appeared, one with bright auburn hair, who seemed happy to see him. The moment she saw you, her smile only widened. "Aaaawwww, hi, sweetie! Who are you?"
"That's Reader. Reader, this is Jean, Jean, this is Reader. We were just trying to see if they needed anything," Scott explained. He rubbed his neck sheepishly. "They were, uh... dropped off here."
"What?" Jean seems almost confused, then angry, then calm again. "Okay, I see... Well, let's take care of you, okay, sweetie?" she says to you, and you shyly grin at her. She seems nice.
"Can we play a game?"
"Um, sure, kid. What game did you have in mind?"
"Whatever you want, okay?"
"Um... what about hide and go seek?" you offer. That's met with two nods, and you quickly add, "Can I hide first?"
"Of course. Just... let's play outside, okay? I don't think all the rooms are clean in here, and we don't need you getting sick," Jean explains. Scott nods, and you simply race them to the door. When you look back, they're both closing their eyes, starting to count.
You giggle, racing out the large doors and working your way into the yard beside the large house. It's full of weird rocks and stones, with names carved on them, along with numbers. And there's even one with your name, scratched in and with some sweet words under it... But you decided to hide behind the two that have Scott and Jean's names on them, with rhyming words. It takes awhile before you hear them come out, the only way you know it being them calling, "Ready or not, here we come!"
It doesn't take too long for them to find you, after looking around the different stones and slabs and bushes. And when they do find you, you laugh-scream when hands suddenly pick you up, hugging you tightly.
"There you are!"
"Here I am!"
After that, you're soon put to bed, being kept in a small room with a smaller bed. The blankets smell a little old, and the room is slightly warmer than the others, but you settle down, lulled under by the story being read to you by your two new friends...
When you wake up, your parent is worried, quickly grabbing you and almost running through the halls and out the door, not stopping for a minute. "Where are we going?" you yawn, rubbing at your eyes.
"We're going home, baby, okay? I'm so sorry I left you here all alone, I thought this was the right house!"
"But I wasn't alone..."
Your parent's face goes pale, almost like a ghost. "You... there were people there?"
You nod your head.
With that, they start the car, speeding down the long, long driveway and out into the lonely road. You'd only later find out, when you're older, that the house, a mansion, had been abandoned for years... and that no one was living there at all...
But that didn't mean the dead weren't...
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loviestyless · 2 days
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Bloodied Shadows*
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summary: when harry is looking for inspiration for his next novel, he stumbles across a house with a sinister past and well, you know what they say - curiosity killed the cat.
inspired by american horror story’s murder house
warnings: themes of horror, blood, violence, murder, smut: mxm pairing, choking, hand job, sub!harry
i wrote this for halloween last year and really loved writing something darker than i usually do so felt like sharing it here too. Hope you enjoy!
The misty moors of the English countryside rolled past the window in an endless sea of autumnal browns against the dark grey sky looming above. A distant chill clawed against the taxi window, threatening to clasp its grip around the curious man watching the world go by. There was not a single soul around except for the silent man in the driver's seat - the promise of solitude growing ever closer the further out of town they ventured.
A deep sigh breathed past Harry's lips as he ran his ringed fingers through his unruly curls, phone pressed against his ear as he reluctantly listened to his manager reminding him of the clauses in the contract he'd signed last year.
"We agreed you'll have the first draft on my desk by the end of this month and you've decided to take a little trip out of town?" Keith's unimpressed voice filtered through the phone, causing Harry to roll his eyes. "You don't have time for dirty weekends away with your girlfriend, Harry."
The man forced himself to bite back the scoff threatening to rumble from the back of his throat at his manager's words, knowing it would do nothing to get him back in Keith's good graces. Glancing at the empty seat next to him, Harry forced himself to find the humour in his manager's assumption to avoid the overwhelming stress of knocking out the first few chapters of his novel overnight. If Keith had bothered to check his emails, he would have known Harry was using this escape to the countryside to search for inspiration. It was purely work related and he was fairly confident that by the end of the night, he'd have a solid plan to break through this current bout of writer's block.
"I promise, first thing tomorrow morning the draft will be in your inbox." He grumbled; his tone almost bored as Keith continued to rattle on without even acknowledging what Harry had said.
"If you needed extra time, you should have told me sooner. Maybe then I could've negotiated something with your publisher. I can't work miracles, Harry. This only works if you communicate-"
A dull tone cut off Keith in the middle of his lecture and with a quick glance at his screen, Harry quickly discovered there was no longer any signal.
Outside, the stretches of rolling fields had changed into one singular stretch of road surrounded by the confinement of a never-ending line of decayed trees shedding their orange leaves. Harry supposed it was a blessing being so isolated from the outside world, he could focus on meeting his deadline without the constant distraction of his phone ringing every five minutes.
The screeching of the car's brakes caught the writer's attention as they slowed to a complete stop in the middle of nowhere. A frown creased his brows as he peered out the window at the stretch of misty grey land outside, wondering what had caused such an unexpected stop in their journey. The google maps tab open on Harry's phone said he was still ten minutes from his intended destination.
"This is where the road ends, you'll have to go the rest of the way by foot."
"Y'know, this is like every stereotype in every horror movie ever made, right?" Harry scoffed rudely, folding his arms across his chest as he threw the driver an unimpressed stare in the rear-view mirror. He'd heard the rumours about where he was going but they were so ridiculous he didn't expect anyone to actually believe them. "Let me guess, you're about to warn me I'm in grave danger and it's not too late to turn back."
"Selly House is no joke, mate. Every unsolved murder in the area has been linked to that place, nobody that goes in comes out alive." The driver warned, genuine fear present in his gaze as he took in the scepticism lacing Harry's features.
"Yeah whatever." The writer sighed, knowing there was no use trying to argue. He'd seen enough horror films to know he'd end up flat on his ass in the middle of the road with his bags at his feet while the driver sped off in the opposite direction as fast as he could. "How much do I owe you?"
Minutes later, Harry was pulling his puffer jacket tighter around his body as the cold threatened to steal the air right from his lungs while he continued to sort out his bags the driver had dumped on the floor. The rumble of an engine speeding away echoed in the distance, mingling with the sharp cries of the crows flying overhead. If Harry was the type to read into things, he would be unnerved by the lack of civilization around him, but luckily this was the exact kind of solitude he was seeking for his novel.
Already his mind was running havoc with ideas simply from his surroundings, and his shoulders loosened with relief as he felt ready to start writing. Weeks of staring at an empty notebook had left him drained, pushing him further into a slump that had him convinced his whole career was a mistake - that the success of his previous novel had been a fluke.
But the fresh air biting at his skin, causing his cheeks to flush pink, snapped him back into reality. Made his creativity come alive again. And this was before he'd even stepped a foot past the threshold of the infamous murder house that lay dormant a couple of miles down the road.
When researching potential places that could inspire a dark storyline for his latest thriller, Selly House had popped up on Google too many times for the writer to ignore. Spending an entire evening delving into the history of the house led Harry down a path seeped in murder, unsolved crimes and mysterious disappearances. Centuries of ghost stories, rumours of shadows dancing in the dark and whispers of temptation drawing unsuspecting guests through the doors lit the flame of curiosity in Harry's mind.
He had never believed in ghosts, ghouls and so-called unexplainable events. Horror movies were predictable and Halloween was just another excuse for retail companies to make a shit tonne of money. It was an ironic mindset for someone who had spent the past year making money off writing a chilling horror novel but it was something he was good at even if he felt it was all a bunch of nonsense. Anything to pay the bills...
Naturally, once the writer had heard the stories, read the newspaper reports, he was intrigued. He needed to know what elements of this house sparked such fear in the local community and made it so famous. Once he discovered the roots of these childish ghost tales that haunted the town of Selly, Harry had the perfect setting for his own novel.
And what better time to get a feel of the place than Halloween night.
His plan was fool proof. Nobody dared go within five miles of the house so he would be able to sneak in undetected, nose about the decrepit ruins for a bit before settling down by the dim light of his torch to spend all night completing a draft of the first few chapters. It would be silent and he could finally get some work done without his phone constantly ringing, demanding his attention.
Heaving his backpack over his shoulder, Harry let out a quiet sigh as he began trudging his way down the road in the direction google maps pointed him. He scoffed to himself as he noticed the road he was currently on led directly up to the driveway of the house with no sign of it abruptly ending like the driver had implied.
Not a single soul was around, all that accompanied Harry on his walk were the echoes of his own footsteps and the crows squawking up above, seemingly following him in his journey. Misty rain was suddenly upon the man, dampening his curls and making him pull the hood of his jumper over his head to protect himself from the weather.
"Fucking English weather." He grumbled to himself, wiping his phone screen against his jeans in an attempt to clear the little drops of water making it difficult to see the map.
Bringing it back out in front of him, the screen was completely black. Tapping it gently, the writer hoped to wake it back up again but was left staring at his own reflection on the blank screen. Rolling his eyes, he tried pressing the side button but had no success.
If he hadn't had a full battery upon stepping out the taxi, he would've assumed his phone was just dead. But there was nothing to explain why it had suddenly stopped working.
Cursing to himself he angrily shoved the useless device back into his coat pocket, hoping he'd be able to fix it once he got to his destination. However, in his own arrogance when looking into the house, he'd failed to note the accounts of all modern technology suddenly rendered useless around the house.
With nothing but his own company, Harry began to hum to himself, hoping to pass the boring walk a little quicker. The shadow of a tall, gothic building loomed prominent against the deep grey sky, serving as a guide for Harry to follow. Even from a distance it wasn't hard to recognise what struck such fear among those in the area.
Despite spending almost half a century abandoned, Selly House looked just as new as it had the day the building had been completed. There were no signs of disrepair, no overgrown ivy snaking up the stone walls and the front gardens were all properly cared for. The sight alone made Harry stop dead in his tracks, confusion knitting his brows together as he muttered his thoughts under his breath.
Surely this was the right place?
Glancing behind him briefly, the man tried to gauge his surroundings. It made no sense.
There was not a single soul that would dare enter the grounds of Selly House, not since the gruesome murder-suicide that had taken place fifty years ago on this exact date. After decades of murders and disappearances linked to those who lived in the house, the deaths of Ethel and Rowan Montague had shaken the community so deeply that the town council had agreed to never let the house be put back up for sale again.
In that time, you would expect the outside to at least appear a little weathered, especially with the number of storms this part of the countryside faced.
A crow squawked above, feathers fluttering as it swooped close enough to Harry to make him flinch before landing atop the iron gates. Its yellow eyes stared at him, unmoving as if waiting for Harry to take another step forward. Daring him to enter the grounds.
The writer shook his head, snickering to himself slightly at how cliche this all seemed and the fact he had for a split second briefly entertained the idea of turning back around.
He was getting too inside his head about this, it was a house that had an infamous past - of course it was going to be a little unnerving. But he knew that when planning this trip. He wasn't coming for a relaxing weekend away; he was coming to be scared. For the house to prove itself to him so could use that material for his own personal gain.
Suck it up, buttercup.
Taking a deep breath in, Harry willed himself forward, up to the gates and over threshold. He almost laughed when nothing happened, no voices emerged from the shadows, no brutal murderers ran at him with a bloody axe. He was fucking fine. In fact, he was almost bored by the lack of excitement.
All those stories warning him not to come here, all those tales of gruesome incidents and the only demon to greet him was his own imagination running away with him. Kind of pathetic when you think about it.
Now that he stood in the middle of the driveway, Harry could properly take in the details of his surroundings.
The front garden itself was split between both sides of the cobbled driveway leading directly to the house. A fresh lawn on either side carried tiny droplets of dew from the unpleasant weather, lined by borders of neatly trimmed back hedges going slightly orange with the changing seasons. It was simple but upheld the elegance of the plot of land - emphasised by the grandeur of the house looming like a shadow in the dark. The exterior looked like it had stepped straight out of a Victorian gothic novel with pointed arch windows, a steeply pitched roof and made from dark grey stone. If someone would have told Harry this was the place Dracula had lived, he would have believed them.
Harry's mind had become a wildfire of inspiration, sparked alight by the hundreds of avenues that he could take his novel. Any inkling of doubt Harry had about this place had evaporated into thin air, leaving a level of curious excitement in its wake.
Wasting no time, Harry hurried up the stretching driveway, his eyes flitting about the expanse of land in a desperate attempt to commit every tiny detail to memory. That was until he was struck speechless by the line of stone statues guarding the front of the house - seven gothic angels, their bodies and facial features contorted in various states of pain, each one more severe than the last as if depicting a story. Or perhaps serving as a warning. A warning of what might happen if one dared to venture further.
Whatever the meaning, Harry was captivated. They were the only parts of the house that appeared to age with speckles of moss clinging to the podiums and chipped elements only seeming to add to the decay each angel held within themselves.
The wooden porch creaked under Harry's step as he approached the front doors and he was just about to turn the doorknob to enter when he became aware of a weird cracking sound echoing in the still silence smothering the surrounding land. Clearing his throat, Harry slowly turned to look behind him with a frown. His heart skipped a beat as he was suddenly faced with all seven angels staring directly at him, their tortured expressions now directed in his direction as if he was the one inflicting such suffering upon them.
They hadn't been looking this way before. Harry knew that for certain. The writer swallowed thickly as he willed his racing heart to calm down. It was just an overused trick he'd seen in horror movies - similar to those paintings with eyes that seemed to follow you across the room. His creative mind was running away with him, that's all.
Suck it up, buttercup. Just a little closer...
"You must be losing your damn mind." He muttered to himself, shaking his head slightly in disbelief that he was allowing himself to grow so unsettled when he didn't believe in the supernatural. It was all bullshit, he had allowed the rumours of the house to run rampant in his mind, causing logic to get entangled with fictional fantasies. "Get a hold of yourself."
Rusted hinges creaked loudly as Harry finally pushed the oak front door open, the stale, musky scent of the house hit him almost immediately and made him cough a little as it caught him by surprise. Even though the house hadn't fallen into disrepair in the decades it had remained empty, the entire place felt as if it was frozen in time with the interior design steeped in grand decor of the early nineteen-hundreds.
Harry couldn't help but gape in awe at what surrounded him: velvet wallpaper, crystal chandeliers, golden trims and polished mahogany floors. It was as if he had stepped onto the set of a costume drama and he could feel himself growing impatient to start exploring. Judging by the size of the place, he could easily spend all night nosing about the numerous rooms instead of writing but he couldn't allow himself to forget the reason he came here.
Darkness had closed in around the house by the time Harry had finished searching for inspiration around the house and was feeling more than ready to churn out a couple of chapters. However, he was a little disappointed he had found nothing out of the ordinary in his search. No headless bodies in the kitchen, no ghosts creeping down the hallways, no bloody handprints smeared along the windows. All there had been half melted candles, family paintings, children's toys and moth-eaten clothes.
It had been a little disappointing but Harry had expected it. He knew the stories were made up, exaggerated over time to scare kids at night to stop them from getting too curious.
But at least his brain was almost bursting with new story ideas.
It had been an hour since he'd set up camp in the old library upstairs with his camping lantern as the only source of light in the gloomy room. The desk had a thick layer of dust covering it but it didn't bother Harry, it only served to create a more gothic atmosphere surrounded by all the shelves of leather-bound books as he frantically scribbled his thoughts down on paper.
Time seemed to pass differently in the house, slipping out of Harry's grasp before he knew it as he allowed himself to be entirely consumed by his work. Every glance at his watch would give him a different time, sometimes ten minutes would have passed since he'd last looked, other times it would have been hours. The only constant he knew was the night sky barely visible through the fogged-up library window.
The glass panels rattled slightly as the wind picked up outside, whistling through the slight gaps in the window panes. With the weather picking up, Harry knew to expect some strange noises to echo about the place as it was expected for things to go bump in older houses such as this one.
What he didn't expect was for the simultaneous slamming of all the upstairs doors to shake the house the way it did, causing him to jump out of his skin and make his heart start pounding in his chest. Dropping his pen in the desk, Harry's head whipped around to look behind him, his hands shaking slightly as adrenaline started to course through his bloodstream.
A small draught flowing through the house couldn't have made such a noise. But Harry refused to let it rattle his nerves. He knew there was a reasonable explanation for everything and it was possible there could be undiscovered disrepair where the wind was entering from.
Another rumble reverberated deep within one of the bedrooms and Harry couldn't ignore the voice in the back of his mind calling for him to check it out. It sounded like something had fallen over and the last thing he wanted was to be blamed for wrecking the place when he'd been minding his own business the whole night.
His legs felt heavy as he hoisted himself out of the library chair, clutching his lantern in his clammy hand as he forced every step forward and out of the room. Heavy, anxious breaths rattled in his chest as he gave in to the fear stroking its claws at his brain, a rising nausea settling as an uncomfortable lump in the back of his throat.
The hallway was steeped in shadows crawling through every crack and crevice waiting to pounce on Harry when he least expected it. The little light from his lantern did little to protect him from the monsters lurking around every corner, watching and waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.
Floorboards creaked underfoot as he peeked down the hallway, making Harry shut his eyes briefly to steady his nerves. His chest rose and fell as he made a conscious effort to slow his breathing, a hand placed lightly over his chest to feel when his heartbeat had slowed back to normal. Everything was fine and just as he'd last seen it. All that had changed were the bedroom doors were now closed.
He was still alone. Alone...
He was fine. He was safe. And he was alone.
Any resolve he'd managed to tackle over his emotions went flying out the back of his mind the moment his eyes fluttered back open only to be met with his own green orbs staring back at him from the other end of the dark hallway. But they weren't his. They were an exact copy, darkened with something Harry couldn't quite put his finger on.
A sinister smirk glinted in the limited flecks of light reaching that far, making a chill run-down Harry's spine. Shadows obscured the figure's face but Harry had looked in the mirror enough times over the years to recognise his reflection when he saw it.
What the fuck was going on?
All logic flew out the window as he moved on his own accord, his brain barely processing the movement before Harry was running towards himself - desperate for answers. But his double seemed to predict every move a second before Harry reacted, gliding towards the master bedroom and vanishing into thin air before the writer could catch him.
"Who the fuck are you?" Harry yelled in fear, his words trembling as he frantically threw open the bedroom door after the mysterious figure. Beams of light spilled into the room, illuminating a path for Harry to search for answers. His chest was heaving once more, as the man was on the verge of hyperventilating. "W-what do you want?"
Raising the lantern in his hand, Harry searched high and low in every single corner possible for any sign that what he had just seen was real.
Look at the little lamb, all lost and scared of the dark.
Let me comfort you, come to me buttercup. Let me save you.
Coming up short for an explanation, Harry was left with no choice but to return to the library - notably more shaken than when he'd left.
Goosebumps had risen against his inked skin now that he had been set permanently on edge, his tired mind allowing him to fall into the trap of believing the superstitions every logical part of him fought to disprove. But he had seen himself. He had seen himself walking away and disappearing through a closed door. It wasn't a reflection, there were no mirrors except from in the bathroom.
Wind howled menacingly on outside, whipping the onslaught of rain against the glass window panes. Thick drips leaked through the gaps, soaking into the wallpaper as it streamed down the walls and began to pool on the mahogany desk below. With every passing second, the puddle continued to grow and Harry cursed under his breath as he hurried to salvage the hours of work scribbled on the pages.
Trembling hands scooped up the sodden pages, beams of light fading slightly as the lantern toppled to his feet. It was impossible to see what he was doing as the shadows creeped closer, scraping their talons impatiently along the walls as they waited for their chance to engulf the man at his most vulnerable.
Harry's hands had become soaked with the thick liquid as he struggled to save his things before they were ruined, small drips falling from a crack in the ceiling and sliding down his face from where it landed in his messy curls. A horrid metallic stench suddenly flooded Harry's senses, his nose wrinkling in disgust as it suddenly dawned on him that something wasn't quite right.
Rain water didn't ooze from crevices the way this was and it certainly didn't reek of stale death that made you nauseous. Papers fluttered to the ground as Harry allowed them to slide from his grip, raising his palms in front of his face to confirm what he already suspected.
Crimson blood tainted his pale skin, smeared along his wrists and stained his cheeks as it clung to him like a disease. His stomach lurched as he remained rooted to the spot in horror, more blood pouring in through the ceiling faster than ever. Drenched in blood, Harry could no longer deny that this house wasn't normal - all logical reasoning was disproven before the thoughts even entered his mind. Intense nausea forced him to snap into action, dashing through the long hallway towards the direction of the upstairs bathroom.
Crashing through the door, Harry flung himself to the sink. His shoulders heaved forwards as his body worked to get rid of the contents of his stomach. Blood smeared against the pale porcelain as he gripped the counter so hard his knuckles turned white. Sweat clung to his forehead as shaky breaths rattled his lungs, petrified sobs echoing about the bathroom as Harry felt himself descend into madness.
His eyes flitted up to the cracked mirror, hoping to convince himself that this was all in his head. That somehow this was just one big nightmare and he wasn't here soaked in stranger's blood that rained down from cracks in the roof.
But what he saw was so much worse, rattling him to his very core.
Alongside his own pale features staring back at him, another form approached from the shadows from behind.
A muffled yelp escaped his lips as he whipped around to face the shadow smirking at his fear with amusement. The form stalked closer like a cat watching its prey, waiting for the right moment to pounce and feed from his emotions without a single remorse.
Trapped in place, Harry could feel the edge of the sink digging uncomfortably against his back as tried to keep his distance. Wary eyes never left the figure as it stepped into the beam of moonlight streaming through the tiny window, transforming the menacing shadow into one of the most attractive men Harry had ever seen.
Brown eyes, broad shoulders and slicked back hair stole the breath from Harry's lungs.
"Shhhh...don't fret, buttercup." A silky-smooth voice breezed through the air, making Harry's heart skip a beat as he got wrapped up in the sexual haze wrapping around him. He greeted it willingly, a sense of familiarity within this situation calmed his racing heart and a warm blur fizzled in his mind - making him forget of all the fear the night had instilled deep inside himself. "I'm here now."
Entranced in the man's beauty, Harry's legs moved of their own accord and carried him into the light - close enough for the nameless beauty to brush his index finger over his blood-stained cheek. Brown eyes met green and Harry tumbled willingly into the stranger's spell.
Only, this wasn't a stranger. No, Harry knew this man, had felt this man's passions before. His heart leaped in his chest as a sense of deja vu washed over him like a cool wave on a summer's evening, lips curling upwards as he greeted a long-lost lover.
"Rowan." He whispered into the small space between them, his voice wavering with emotion as he leaned into the man's delicate touch.
"I missed the sound of my name from those pretty lips." Rowan breathed out a chuckle, wasting no time in pressing his lips against Harry's with such passion that he had to grip Harry's waist to keep him from staggering backwards. Hot, frenzied kisses were exchanged, breaths shared and soft moans filled the air as Harry's hands found their way to Rowan's hair, smearing thick blood through the strands as he tugged harshly.
Their bodies were flushed together in a matter of seconds, Rowan's strong form walking Harry backwards so he was pressed against the bathroom counter once more. This time, however, there was not a single inkling of fear present in Harry's mind - completely overshadowed by the whirlwind of lust controlling his every action.
The kiss grew more frenzied, more desperate as Rowan asserted his dominance over his lover with Harry willing to do anything if it meant eliciting more of those delicious moans from the man towering above him. Adventurous hands explored the man's broad shoulders, venturing south to trail down the expanse of Rowan's toned torso over the soft material of his silk shirt.
Harry could feel the amused smirk against the skin of his neck as Rowan's sloppy kisses made his breath catch in the back of his throat, their blown pupils meeting briefly in a shared glance - a silent question of consent present in the slight twitch in Rowan's brows.
"Is this real?" Harry was breathless, fighting through the pleasure lingering in his bloodstream as Rowan's intoxicating presence loosened its grip around his heart a little. Peering up at the man through his lashes had Rowan rolling his head back with a stifled groan.
"You tell me, buttercup." His voice was thick with lust, causing a wave of arousal to rush straight to Harry's cock, half hard in his trousers and begging for attention. "Does this feel real?"
Before Harry knew it, Rowan was pushing his hips roughly against his own so he could feel his bulge, ready and waiting to pleasure him once he was given the green light. A low moan sounded from deep within Harry's chest, the feeling of Rowan's hardness rubbing against his own made his head swim in the most delightful way.
"Y-yes." He panted, flopping his head forward to lean against Rowan's toned chest.
"Then don't overthink it." Rowan purred in Harry's ear, strong hands gripping the side of his hips as he took control again. "Turn around, hands on the counter."
His waist bumped against the porcelain sink as Rowan roughly spun him into the position he wanted, tightly fisting his curls in one hand and yanking them so Harry had no choice but to stare at his reflection in the mirror.
He looked utterly wrecked already and he had barely been touched, crimson blood smeared across his face, lips swollen and pupils blown as he met Rowan's intense stare in their reflection. His lips were painted red from the dark blood that had been transferred from their heated kiss but the blood only turned Harry on more. It promised all the mess and dirty passion he was craving.
Rowan's bloodstained hands slowly snaked their way around Harry's neck, his darkened gaze lapping up every subtle flicker of emotion across Harry's face.
"You gonna let me touch you now?"
Harry's eyes fluttered shut momentarily as he nodded eagerly, a low chuckle from behind making his hips buck against the counter in search of some kind of release. Warm hands cupped his arousal through the material of his trousers, applying just enough pressure to make his head spin.
"Words, buttercup." Rowan's words slipped from his tongue, filled with such lust that Harry couldn't help but let out a quiet moan. His green eyes locked onto the reflection of Rowan's fingers toying with the zipper of his trousers, a devilish smirk across his lips as he purposely took his time to tease Harry.
"Please...fuck me, Rowan." He whined, his palm sliding over Rowan's pleading him to do anything to burst the building bubble of lust that was making him feel crazy. To touch him, to kiss him. To just fucking pleasure him.
Sweat dripped down his forehead as he continued to get worked up, his body falling against Rowan's strong body as his hips worked on their own accord, circling with Rowan's gentle teasing to work out some of the tension rolling through his body. Quiet gasps and frantic whimpers filled the air like music to Rowan's ears as he watched Harry grow frustrated at his failed attempts to pleasure himself against his hand.
"What's wrong, puppy?" He taunted, blood red lips pouting against Harry's ear as his sinister stare taunted the man through the mirror. "Pants a little tight?"
"P-please, I'll be good." Harry's words were breathy and light as he grew lightheaded under Rowan's intense stare. The red blood smeared all over his body from where he was pressed up tightly against Harry's writhing body only emphasised his devilish act, turning Harry on to no end as his mind played over a dozen different ways this night might end. "I'll be a good boy for you."
Danger loomed somewhere distant in the back of his mind but it did nothing to scare him. It only made him hornier, more desperate to feel Rowan exert his claim over his body however he wanted.
The bloodied grasp on his neck, squeezing with just enough pressure to add to the intense level of pleasure stole all of Harry's attention. His blown pupils couldn't focus on anything else.
"What do you need me to do, pup? Tell me."
"Anything! Please, just touch me. I need it, I need you!" Close to tears, Harry's eyes fell shut as his head began to swim, too many sensations flowing through his bloodstream to even blurt out exactly what he needed. He'd take anything at this point as long as he got to cum soon. "I'm being good for you, please!"
The only response was Rowan tugging at Harry's curls to snap his attention back to the mirror, a pointed look warning him to do exactly as he was told in order to earn what he was begging for.
"Eyes on me, pup or I stop. Got it?" He purred seductively, wasting no time in finally unzipping Harry's trousers and pulling his hard length out, a bead of precum collecting at the tip in anticipation of Rowan's full attention.
But just as Harry thought he finally thought he was going to finally touch him; Rowan brought his hand up to his lips.
"Spit." He demanded, and Harry obeyed without a single hesitation. "Good boy."
His cock twitched at the praise, instant relief enveloping him as Rowan finally wrapped his hand around Harry's arousal, slowly stroking his length with calculated movements. Pure bliss overtook Harry's features, his brows tugged together in pleasure as his lips parted to let out a loud moan.
"F-fuck." He groaned, his hips thrusting upwards to aid Rowan in his actions, his hands gripping Rowan's hair in a silent plea for him to continue kissing along his jawline. "More."
Rowan didn't have to be told twice, his tongue licking a stripe along the sharp edge of Harry's jawline, savouring the sweet metallic taste of the blood tainting his flushed skin. The muscles in his arm rippled under the flowy material of his shirt as he continued to tug at Harry's length, flicking his wrist ever so slightly to make sure he smeared the blurts of precum along the tip.
Waves of pleasure ebbed and flowed through Harry's entire body, making his legs grow weak enough that Rowan's strong body had to shift slightly in order to keep him standing upright. Heaving chest and sweaty curls, blood began to slide down Harry's forehead again as he felt himself rapidly reaching the edge already.
The grip against his neck tightened even more to the point Harry expected to have bruises where Rowan's fingers dug into his skin but he didn't care. It made his head grow even lighter, pleasure swimming through his brain and made every sensation he felt in the pit of his stomach intensify by the second.
Harder and harder Rowan's hand clamped the tender flesh, restricting the air that tried to enter his lungs. Harry watched as the man's eyes grew impossibly darker, something switching in his demeanour slightly that had his guard flying up. Something was wrong.
His chest felt heavy as he struggled for breath, eyes widening in fear as he noticed Rowan's other hand was no longer pleasing him, instead moving at a rapid speed to lock his arm where he was grabbing at his throat. The muscles in his biceps locked tighter than his hand was able to and cut off the air Harry desperately tried to suck into his lungs.
Panic overloaded his brain where pleasure once blurred his judgement. Adrenaline made his heart race, something that only seemed to urge Rowan on.
"Your heartbeat sings for me, buttercup. Isn't it beautiful?" He whispered darkly, tightening his iron grip even more as Harry's hands clawed desperately for some kind of relief.
Eyes wide and body jolting with fear, frenzied attempts to escape only made Rowan chuckle. His vision began to grow blurry as his brain was deprived of oxygen, tired eyes struggling to stay focused on the reflection of Rowan's sinister shadow overpowering. Any attempt in escaping, he realised, was pointless.
This man wasn't human, he had known that the moment he'd fallen for his intoxicating spell. He'd walked blindly into the trap set out for him since he'd entered the house hours ago. He was going to die here. His name would be added to the long list of victims Selly House had claimed as its own, his own arrogance being the cause of his downfall.
Shhh..buttercup, don't be scared. It's time to return home.
His limbs went still as the darkness creeped in around him, the last few seconds of consciousness slipping from his grasp faster than he could fight back. Before he knew it black consumed him and he gave himself over to Rowan.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A cold breeze whipped around Harry as he stood in the middle of the road, the silence of the woods around him providing the peace he needed to collect his thoughts. The decaying petals of old flower arrangements fluttered away, joining the swirls of orange leaves scattered across the floor.
Sad eyes stared at the dead flowers - old memories from loved ones that had moved on with their lives while he remained eternally trapped on the other side, just out of their reach. His mother's handwriting stood prominent on the letter attached to the freshest bouquet, one that appeared at this spot every year to mark the anniversary of her son's passing.
Harry read her heartfelt words over in his mind, clinging on to her hope that he was in a better place.
"I thought I'd find you out here." A gentle voice approached cautiously, making Harry turn to greet his lover with a smile. Rowan stood behind him, brown eyes mirroring Harry's sorrow as he understood the pain flowing through his heart. It had been fifty years since his own passing but it never got easier watching someone like Harry come to terms with their own death - especially one that was so brutal.
Even now, Rowan couldn't look Ethel in the eye. Her jealous rage in seeing her husband fall in love with the innocent man who had stumbled upon the house had triggered a psychotic rage within her. She'd spent hours torturing Harry's mind, making him see disturbing things, chasing him about the house until eventually causing him to trip down the stairs and tumble to his demise - all while Rowan watched, trapped in the shadows Ethel had confined him to.
Overcome with emotions, Harry allowed Rowan to wrap his arms around him with a comforting warmth that battled the autumnal weather making him shiver slightly. Laying his head against his lover's chest, he allowed the sound of Rowan's heart to ground him, calming him from such a draining night.
"I forgot again, didn't I?" He sighed, feeling Rowan's soft touch playing with his messy curls.
"Sometimes it takes a while to process a traumatic death. You're lucky it was me that found you, I doubt Ethel would have been so quick to save you."
Harry knew Rowan was right, Ethel would have savoured every moment of his pain before eventually putting him out of his misery. She took pleasure in watching him play out the day he died, trapped in the vicious cycle until his mind finally accepted he was eternally trapped in the afterlife, living among the other countless victims the house had claimed that hid in the shadows.
"I suppose you had to kill me."
"It's the only thing that brings you back, buttercup. But I think you're starting to remember things now; you gave in to me pretty quickly this time."
At Rowan's smugness, Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes fondly. He should have known all that would play on his lover's mind were the intimate moments they always shared before Harry's death, all in an attempt to avoid discussing how it felt to murder his lover over and over again.
He knew Rowan couldn't help the darkness that clouded his mind when it came to murder. The house had taken its claim on his mind, just like it eventually would on Harry's.
There was no escaping Selly house, not even in death.
But Harry would gladly give in to whatever was in store for him if it meant an eternity in Rowan's arms. An eternity with his lover.
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cassandraevans · 2 days
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Some other grievances I've had with the 911 show. I just wanna get these out and be done with it. I wanna just sit back and love the characters without caring about the writer's choices but alas. Hopefully this will be all of my rants about this show and I'll be able to post only what I love about it from here on.
I know I've been very critical of Eddie so far and angrily so. But as much as I'm criticising him for being a very bad and careless romantic partner, i really really hope that when it comes time for him to get together with Buck, he will have learned from all his mistakes and matured and learned about his shortcomings and where they stem from and I hope he'd have worked on himself enough to not put Buck through any of the bullshit he put every one of his romantic partners through. Buck doesn't deserve that.
While I absolutely love Buck, I also have a problem with how he just kissed Lucy while being in a relationship with Taylor where everything was finally looking good, I knew from the moment Lucy was introduced and the way Buck looked at her, and the writers make him cheat on Taylor and ask her to move in as a way to deflect from that. Yes he tells her later, yes she forgives him and I was hoping they would last a little longer but no, the writers just kept her around long enough to make her do something bad to break them up, so then it wouldn't be his fault.
It's like the writers don't think cheating is that bad at all, you cheat? No worries, all forgiven, your partners love you too much to leave you over that. The question is, do the ones that cheat love their partners the same? Because when Hen cheated on Karen I was so pissed, like the lady did not deserve that, I'm glad they didn't break apart over it but still it was not a simple mistake. And then Buck cheated on Taylor and then the writers made her use a private conversation for a news story and stab Buck in the back. Like if they were going to break them up they should've done so when he cheated or let them remain together, I hate it that the writers made Taylor forgive Buck for CHEATING but Buck breaks with her over the first mistake she made in the relationship, I'm not defending Taylor's choices and I was angry at her for it, she could've gotten Buck in so much trouble which he didn't deserve but I hate it that she made one wrong choice and the relationship is over while Buck cheated and he was fine. I hate the writers for trying to dismiss cheating as no big deal.
I was also mad at Hen being all pissy when Karen was grieving the loss of her embryos and Hen had to feed Denny, and do some other things around the house that Karen usually does, I get it, Hen comes home late from her draining shift and it hurts to see that nothing's done but the that's the least you can do for your wife, not to mention one who left her opportunity to become an astronaut to raise a child with you as a family, when she's grieving the loss of your potential children, but Hen keeps complaining and gets mad at Karen for grieving instead of performing her motherly duties, like I feel like the writers of this show have a problem with women taking some time to themselves, whether it be to grieve, or go take care of your dying mother and then grieve, or having postpartum depression, the women are the villain for wanting, no, needing a break, mostly because of things they had no control over, if they deviate from their motherly/spousal duties because of any tragedy, they're not the victim but their partners are, [(I know chim tried his best and didn't deserve to suffer, but neither did Maddie. Chim's storyline after Maddie left literally made me bawl and I'm so glad they're back together, they need each other, I wish they never broke up) so I'm mostly talking about Eddie and Hen here.]
The writers just had to make it all about Hen, when Karen was grieving and staying in bed, all Hen did was complain about HAVING to do the things Karen usually does, Hen looked at it all like an inconvenience. The writers then made Hen accidentally kill that cello girl and justifiably Hen was wrecked with guilt and fear and didn't know how to handle it, can't blame Hen at all for the way she took it but I can blame the writers. Karen put aside all her heartbreak abd grief from her lost embryos and stood by Hen throughout, and I love her for it, Hen deserved Karen to be by her side at such a time, but just before that incident when Karen needed Hen to stand by her and support her emotionally, all Hen did was be impatient and basically tell Karen to wrap it up. The writers made a new emergency tragedy to make it about Hen and tossed aside Karen's grief and made her never talk about it again like it never happened. I hate the writers for that.
Again as a note, these are my opinions about the show, you're free to have your own opinions. I'm just trying to vent out my frustrations with the show on my blog. Don't come at me with your angry anonymous asks and justifications because at the end of the day it's a fictional show. I haven't spoken about what I love on this show yet that doesn't mean i hate it, I'm frustrated by some of the characters' choices because I love them. Viewers will have vastly different opinions about it, to each their own.
Do recommend similar shows to watch while we all wait for new episodes. Lone star is on my watchlist next.
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