#pm all of the socks and underwear

[genderlessdude92]

GENTLE, PLEASE

NSFW FIC

PAIRING: Alastor x Wife!Reader

SUMMARY:Y/N, like the nervous wreck she is, can’t stop spending her free time worrying over something that’s not even a big deal. Of course, one thing lead to another. (Thank you, Charlie, for letting them have the day off).

WARNINGS: (SFW) Reader is female, Reader is hellborn, Reader is VERY anxious (alastor as well, but not too much), reader is sensitive obv, angel is angel, usage of y/n, established relationship cussing on both parts, Alastor owns readers soul. (NSFW) alastor’s pain kink shows a little bit, lingerie, reader is TIGHT, reader is also virgin but is registered adult!!!, mention of a safeword, p in v, slight orgasm denial, reader’s tears, soul-chain bondage, alastor knots. Mentions of pregnancy^^ idk if there’s angst in this that counts but both have a good ending so dw (LMK if i missed anything!!!!)

!!TRANSLATING MY WORK OR COPYING IT IS NOT APPRECIATED (But thanks for liking it :3)!!

Alastor was a man of his word.

Y/N was sitting in her room, tired from her piece of vibrating plastic that brang her ‘pleasure’.

“You look gorgeous in your bliss, darling.”

Whenever Alastor rubbed her, ate her out, it made her feel real pleasure, though.

But, did he?

What was real pleasure?

“I’m too big for you, sweetheart, maybe another time.”

Another time.

Did he want another time?

“You’re almost like Charlie’s mother, Hah! We’d make great parents.”

The look he gave you.

Y/N felt so relieved after hearing Charlie was going up to heaven for a meeting just a moment ago, but now all of these stupid…that’s mean. All these overwhelming thoughts were plaguing her head.

She threw the piece of plastic across the room.

She had to give him something.

when was the last time you talked to him? when was the last time you crossed paths with your husband during work? when was the last time you cooked for him?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

22:10 PM

She couldn’t sleep.

Was she good enough?

Ugh.

She put on a flimsy oversized shirt she usually wears to bed, some polka-dot pajama shorts, and white, knee-high socks.

She didn’t bother to change her underwear garments from the night before.

Y/N looked around before heading out of her hotel room, in case anybody saw her, to Alastor’s room.

Y/N was so happy when Alastor ‘accidentally’ mapped her room next to his on one of the secluded floors when the hotel was being rebuilt. How happy she was, indeed.

Knock knock knock

Silence. but only for a moment before she heard and felt the soft familiar static come closer to the other side of the door.

“Come in, mon cher.” He greeted as he opened the door, stepping aside. His room looked neat and clean, unlike Y/N’s. mostly because there wasn’t much stuff…and he had a whole bayou, making the room bigger.

She nervously walked over the the edge of his bed and sat down, breathing in the smell of his familiar cologne.

“Whats keeping you up so late? you’re usually a slumbering baby at this time of night!” He chortled, sitting down next to her on the plush bed of his.

Fuck.

He was wearing silk pajama pants and a robe, but the robe was just barely tied tightly, exposing a majority of his chest. His monocle was placed elsewhere and his hair was slightly disheveled.

Crap, you woke him up didn’t you.

“…I don’t know.” You dumbass, wrong answer! she scolded at herself.

Alastor chuckled again, “Just missed me?” he asked.

That reminded Y/N of back then. When it was simple and new between them. Before they went to this hotel, decades ago when the two met. She would always go over to his manor in the middle of the night after roaming the streets and feeling lonely.

Ah, yes. Now i have to work for the princess.

“…Yeah…missed you.” Y/N forced a smile alongside that little white lie.

He sighed, “…Alright, what’s going on?” He placed a place on her tensed shoulder, rubbing it soothingly, gently.

Cornered. Y/N didn’t have a choice, “Do you…Do always mean it when…fuck- when you s-say you-um- want to have a child with me?” She said without breaking her eye contact to the floor.

You didn’t have to say it like that, fucking hell

Alastor’s movements froze. “…a…um…” His smiled turned strained, “-a spawn?”

Y/N teared up. there was no way she was getting out of this one.

She whimpered, “…sorry.” before her hands shot up to her face, Alastor grabbed her wrist-

“I would love to. Y-You know I am a man of my word…” Alastor confessed with a chuckle, “-But…only if you are comfortable with it, mon amour.” Alastor went to her eyes level to try and meet her eyes.

Y/N froze. Her tears stopped.

…Holy fuck.

Y/N looked at him, to search for any disapproving emotion in his eyes.

None.

“…I-I want to.” Y/N confessed back, “…too.”

Alastor’s smile softened, he pulled Y/N with ease into him lap, “I’m glad,” and immediately kissed her.

The kiss was soft, sensual, gentle, even. Alastor’s hands began to roam under her shirt once she opened her mouth for him.

Alastor broke away from the kiss for a moment, a string of saliva connecting to their lips, “Y/N…?” he tugged on her shirt.

Oh god, what do i say?

“…Is there something wrong?” Y/N silently panicked.

Alastor widened his eyes for a moment but then softened his demeanor, “You shirt. Can i take it off?” He kissed her lips once more.

Fucking idiot. A brain dead patient would’ve known what that meant.

“…Yes.” She smiled nervously as he broke the the kiss.

Alastor nodded before bunching the hem of her shirt in his claws, “arms up, dear.”

As Y/N put her arms up, letting him gently take off her shirt, Alastor noticed how she was…wearing lingerie.

The lingerie that she wore the night before.

see what i did there

As Y/N put her arms down, she noticed how Alastor was staring at her under garments…

That she didn’t change from last night.

Y/N squeaked and ripped the bra off her body, tossing it away and into the bayou.

Now you’re bra-less.

Y/N slowly look up at Alastor, afraid he was going to scold her for not caring about her hygiene and stuff like that.

Alastor had always scolded her for skipping certain chores to, ‘take the weight off Alastor and Nifty’s shoulders’ whether it be showers, making the bed…laundry.

Dirty landry.

Alastor sighed, “I love you, Y/N,” He laughed softly, “-my clumsy doe.” He finished the sentence with a lustful growl, his claws tickled down her spine, arching her back.

“…I…I love you, t-“ almost immediately, Y/N was pinned down into the center of the bed, Alastor lips crashing onto hers like a starved man.

Fuck yeah, it was hot.

Alastor began to knead his claws at her breasts, squishing them so.

he grinder himself to her clothed core, making her throb for his touch, some contact. It almost felt like all those other times.

…but…it didn’t feel right.

Alastor, after needing a breath of air, noticed the tiniest hint of this, and grown worried,

“Are you alright, dearest?” He checked in.

She was unsure. Yeah, she was in the mood…but she just felt nervous, and he felt so confident.

“…anything i could do?” Alastor questioned once more, still hovering over her, his antlers slightly sizing down.

Think, Y/N, you were fine before, what was he doing before…

“…can you um…be gentle?” She winced, thinking that she sounded like some kind of needy loser. Oh, lord-

“-Why…o-of course, mon cœur.” he reassured, rubbed his thumbs over her small, plush breasts because kissing her once again.

Nothing could have compared more to how satisfied Alastor felt when she moaned.

It wasn’t a pornographic moan either, it was…natural. needing, almost.

Once Alastor slipped his tongue into her awaiting mouth, he began to unwrap his robe, tossing it to the ground and leaving his chest bare for her.

She gasped, “Oh, Al…” before she could wrap her arms around his neck, she felt him tug at her loose shorts,

“May I, darling?~”

Y/N nodded like a frantic woman, lifting her bottom up so he could take off her shorts, awaiting to find her panties completely soaked.

He pushed her bottom down with ease, “Dear, you seem to be completely moist,” Alastor commenting with the low vibration of static in his voice, making Y/N blush frantically. “Tell me, what turn you on so much? Perhaps…” Alastor swiped a finger through her panties, making her yelp. He then brang it back up to his mouth and licked itc moaning softly, “…was it my switch in demeanor?”

Y/N clenched as the sight. Alastor scooted back and lowered herself to her pussy, licking her slowly through the cloth guarding her. When he got to the location of her pearl, he pushed his tongue down onto it, receiving a moan from the receiver.

But his tongue wasn’t enough at the moment.

She wanted more.

“N-no…please, Alastor…I want you.” Y/N pleaded. she was impatient, she couldn’t just sit there and go through what was the usual.

She needed more.

He growled. “Anything for you, ma lumière.” Like an inpatient man, he tapped the bottom of her butt, signaling her to raise it. She did so, and almost immediately did he swiped her panties off of her, resulting in a gasp from Y/N.

Alastor crawled over so his pelvis was just on top of her. standing straight on his knees.

Alastor unbuttoned his silk pajama pants, his hard cock springing free right out of his boxers.

Nothing could have prepared Y/N from how big it looked.

Estimating, it was probably 7.5 inches minimum, and have mercy on her-

It was seriously…thick.

She looked up at Alastor worried. Alastor noticed this and softened his expression,

“You’ll be okay. I’ll go slow for you.”

Y/N nodded, but it certainly didn’t make her feel any better. She was still clenching her womanhood as well, just slightly at the thought of how bad this might hurt.

Alastor sighed. “The safeword is…stop.” Alastor told her. Hopefully that would make her feel safer.

…she opened for him.

When Alastor looked down to examine her, he saw how each second she opened, her juices would stick to her pussy’s lips in strings.

His dick physically throbbed more.

After hooking her legs up and around her waist, he lowered his body down more so that his cock was in lined with her vagina.

Slowly, he rubbed his length up down down through her folds, collecting as much natural lube as he could for her pleasure.

-But the sounds definitely weren’t helping, making Y/N face glow a darker tint of red than before. So, she just zoned out to the rumble of Al’s static.

What snapped her out of her zoning, although, was the burning of her hole, hissing in discomfort.

“Shhh…” Alastor hushed, “Just let me put the tip in, then i’ll stop.” Alastor, still, waited for confirmation.

Fucking pussy, Y/N thought, can’t even take the tip?!-

“o-okay.” She grasped onto his shoulder for an anchor in the pain. I can get through this.

Alastor still gave her a moment before shoving the full tip in, making her wince in pain, squeezing his shoulder.

Alastor hushed her again, “relax for me, darling…” he lowered his mouth to her left nipple, softly suckling on the nub, and effort to ease the pain. As Y/N released more moans, bringing one of her hands up to rub the lonely breast.

After a moment to let her settle around him, he pulled away from her nipple with a pop, bringing her hand back up to his shoulder.

“Just relax for me…” Alastor suggested before closely pushing some more length into her. “You,” he groaned, “You’re doing so good for me…”

How is she so tight?

Tears began to form in Y/N’s waterline. Alastor looked up at the sight and pondered what he could do. After a few moments, he stopped until he was just halfway into her, he leaned down once more to place his lips on her tears, her forehead, and then her lips, whispering affirmations in the middle of each kiss.

…was this too slow?

Y/N couldn’t believe her thoughts.

She pulled away from his lips to speak, “A-Al…put it in…i’m ready…” she requested with desperation in her tone, “i need all of you…”

Alastor looked up at him to spot a lie in the process, “Are you sure, my love-“

“Alastor, fuck me.”

That made Alastor moan, which then turned into a growl as Alastor subconsciously grew into a slightly bigger form of himself, snapping his hips with force into her.

Y/N cried out, but silenced Alastor before he could say anything, “S-Start moving, Al, please…” She took one of her hands off a shoulder to rub her nub, moaning softly as the newly added pleasure mixed with him slowly bottom out before snapping back into her.

He repeated this motion for a moment before slowly picking up her pace, making her moans short between thrusts.

“A-Alastor, ngh…” She called for him, grasping onto his shoulder once again. She tried to pull him down for a kiss.

“Use your words, m…mon cher.” he breathed and he kept his euphoric pace.

“K-Kiss me…” Y/N pleaded through her moans.

Alastor quickly leaned down to peck her lips before breaking the quick kiss,

“I’m gonna fill you…” He quickened his pace, his form becoming more menacing as his antlers grew, “with my seed.” He finished his sentence by smashing his lips onto hers.

As Y/N’s legs began to slip, he quickly used his tendrils to press them to her chest,

Positioning her into a breeding press.

“Ah…A-Alastor…I’m gonna-ah!” Alastor changed his pace to a brutal, electrifying one.

Y/N didn’t even care if he were to be gentle, she just wanted that sweet relief of relea-

“You don’t cum until i say so, darling.” a green shackle on Y/N’s left ankle appeared as a warning. “Understood? Those are our rules of the bedroom.”

He wasn’t wrong there. Those were the rules. He never wanted to feel under-powered in the bedroom at all, so that included orgasm denial.

And Y/N was completely fine with it.

But how quick and hard he’s hitting that far spot in her walls?

Just made her feel like there was no control.

“Alastor, please…” Y/N let tears she didn’t know we’re building up fell.

Alastor hushed her comfortingly, “Sweetheart-fuck-sweetheart, y-you’re almost there…” Alastor could feel himself knot inside of her,

…He wasn’t even sure that he was knotting until Y/N’s moans turned into groans.

He swiped some tears off her cheeks, ���Mon cœr, you’re r-ready to cum?” he shot one of his tendrils down to her pussy, rubbing it at a rapid pace. Alastor leaned down to whisper into her ear, the static in his voice now on mute, “cum for me, then.”

That’s when the coil snapped.

The same time when Alastor spilt him seed deep into her womb.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

23:04 PM

Y/N was exhausted.

“Darling, i need you to sit up for a moment.” Alastor demanded.

Y/N groaned like a toddler.

“…fine.” Alastor put down the glass of water onto the nightstand, taking one knee and placing it sorely onto the bed to get closer to her, his shadow helping to lift her butt up as he wiped extra semen off of her.

after a moment of him disappearing into the bathroom, he came back looking neat and ready for bed.

…with a genuine smile on his face as his eyes met your tired ones.

Alastor went to the other side on the bed, sighing as he felt the soft surface under him.

He scooted closer to Y/N to get her under the blankets, dramatic, he thought as Y/N made a whine of protest again from the movement.

Once everything felt to his liking, he laid down next to her. and pulled her close, nuzzling his cheek into her hair.

“…Hey…Al?”

“mhm?”

“…I love you…”

He softened his smile, chuckling light-heartedly,

“…I love you two, as well.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

BONUS ☆♪

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Hey, sweet cheeks,” Angel called from the other side of the lobby, walking over to Y/N, “Still up for that event thingy at the new bar? Heard that the sharks are blackl-“

Angel stared at the sight before him.

Y/N, laying on the couch with her legs slightly spread and a heating pad on the thighs.

“…Don’t-“

“Is it just me, or do i see you…a supposed to be virgin friend of mine…sore from a…” He examines the current position for a moment, walking around the couch to stand in front of her, “…breeding press position.”

Y/N stares at him like he’s her next target on a murder spree.

And which, he probably was.

“What? I’m and expert with this kind of stuff,” He pulls out his phone and sits next to you, “forget that I work for Valentino? Damn, how good was that sex?”

“Angel, if you want to keep the ability of having sex, be quiet.”

NOTE: I felt rlly devious making this fic 😍 But all jokes aside, i rlly need some writing tips since this is literally my first fic ever 😭 (we aren’t counting my slender x wife!reader fic from 2016 that got 11k notes help it wasn’t even that good-) But let’s be fr, tips and comments are appreciated! I’m also taking reqs but only Alastor ones for now <3 oki baiiii

-Genderlessdude92, Kiki

MY MASTERLIST!! (Click me :D)

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor smut #alastor x wife reader #hazbin smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin imagines #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x you

[neighbourshouse]

Quality Time (WWDITS)

Nadja x Female Reader

Summary: Nadja wants to know more about you. (Fluff)

Warnings: Mentions of nudity, insecurity.

Authors note: Hi Hi Hi this is my first ever fanfiction.

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

5:30 PM; The vampires wouldn’t be up for a while as the sun was still out and not to set for another hour.

Guillermo gets up around the same time you do, not interacting with each other as you both find solace in the quiet you two only seem to get in the daytime. Usually, you are awake around 12:30, getting ready as you wish and cleaning the house up before the vampires rise for the night. However, today you let yourself sleep in a bit later. Last night ran too long and the house was tidy(ish). 

You kept your room dark- if there was one thing you did have in common with the vampires, you enjoyed the night. The room lit with warm-toned lamps, you stood in front of your mirror in a t-shirt, underwear, and socks, looking at yourself.

You have never really liked your body, a constant insecurity mainly while living with individuals who were quite attractive. You were especially bugged by your appearance today, looking at the shape of your hips and the curves of your legs. The t-shirt you wore was purposely large enough to hide your torso and release emphasis on your breasts.

You watched yourself for a few minutes, eventually turning to put on jeans and a hoodie. 

“Why do you look at yourself like that? Also, why is there fabric up your ass??” Nadja was sitting on your bed, watching you. She squinted her eyes as her gaze roamed all over your body.

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN SITTING THERE?” you yelled, rushing over to the end of your bed where your pants lay. You quickly pulled them on, frantically zipping them up. At least now you were fully dressed.

“are you going to answer my questions?” She stated.

“NO, I’m not gonna answer actually. why are you up?? you should still be asleep!”

“I awoke early and was bored. What do you expect me to do? Clean the house?” She smirked as if the cameras were there.

“You could have at least knocked”

“ok well, I didn’t and I’m here now.”

There was a pause. You looked at her, brows slightly furrowed. For once you could see slight concern glint across her eyes. It made your gaze soften. You shouldn’t be rude, she is your Mistress after all.

You threw on your hoodie and sat next to her on the bed.

“Sooo…what’s up?” You asked, a little more care in your voice.

As Nadja and Laszlo’s familiar, they only ever really ordered you around. However, both were oddly protective over you for some unknown reason, especially Nadja. She even was the one who insisted you have a proper bedroom; Unlike Guillermo who unfortunately got the space under the stairs. 

Nadja and you were the only women in the house. It was hard for you, so you could only imagine how polarizing and alone it must be for her. You know, being a vampire and all on top.

I mean, to tell the truth, you really liked Nadja, like, really liked her- but you could never say anything. You found her beautiful and her oddness was something you could connect with. At the least, you wanted to be her friend but she always seemed to stray away from you or demand things in front of the others. So this interaction was a first.

“I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to talk to you?… I feel a little bad, you’ve been with us for a while now and- I’ve not even bothered to get to know you.” Her eyes shifted downwards into her lap. You squinted and began to inspect her from afar. What the fuck is going on?

“Are you ok? Should I wake the others and get help?”

“No no, I’m fine, like I said I just….”

She looked at you. Was that a bit of sadness?

“Nadja, do you want someone to talk to?” You smiled slightly, trying to get her to look at you.

Her head lifted and she began to smile back- this still seemed too genuine for Nadja. 

“I think I do. I also didn’t realise- how sort of interesting you are? I’ve never been in here.” She flicked her eyes around the room, taking in the posters on your walls and the knick-knacks and books on your shelves.

“Thank you…” you trailed off not really knowing what to say next.

Her eyes met yours again.

“y/n, I really do want to know more about you.” You blushed at her words.

“well…what exactly do you want to know?” You said slowly, she began to smile again. Gosh her smile is so pretty. She is so pretty.

“Tell me about yourself. Where are you from? Who are your parents? What was your childhood like? what is your favourite colour? What is your darkest secret?-“ She began to ramble on with different questions, you grabbed her hand to make her stop for a moment. She froze, looking down at the contact. Scared, you retracted your arm quickly as she looked at you. 

‘oh shit, you done fucked it-’ you thought.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ apologies started to spew out of you.

“No no! it’s ok! I’m just not- used to that kind of thing.” She looked focused as her brain processed what had just happened.

You felt unsure of what to do, so, you let yourself fall back onto your bed. She looked at you nervously, playing with her hands.

Finally, she laid down next to you, both staring at the ceiling on your backs.

Another moment of quiet.

“My Favourite colour is red.” You practically whispered, turning your head to look at her. She turned to you and smiled. Nadja seemed so excited yet calm in manner. 

“So is mine.”  Her grin was spread from ear to ear.

“Are you sure you really want to know about me?” The question seemed to dissipate into thin air as Nadja looked at you sternly.

“Of course I do.” She softened her gaze but her answer felt like an order.

With that, you began to tell her about where you were from and what life as a mortal has been like for you. You told her about your friends and the adventures you’ve been on and your family. Her sudden interest in your life made you feel good.

What felt like minutes was really 2 hours. You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. The sun had long set, it now being 7:30 PM. Nadja lay on her stomach, kicking her feet like a schoolgirl. 

“Oh shit- it’s 7:30 already?? Nadja I gotta get to my chores and start helping out-” You started to get up but she pushed you back down with a firm hand.

“Nonsense! I am your Mistress and I say tonight your job is to hang out with me.” She could tell you were slightly puzzled and shocked.

“Bubs it is okkkkkk. You are mine, I get to decide what you do.” Her words made your stomach flutter and your cheeks flush.

“Ok…but what about-“

“Nuh-uh, the others are fine. Like I said, your only task tonight is to be with me.”

A bit of thought and you couldn’t deny her, you smiled, Nadja had been waiting for that. She began to smile back as well. 

The thought of talking further about yourself felt exhausting, and at this, you realised you didn’t know a whole lot about Nadja. Obviously, you knew she was a vampire from Antipaxos that was 500 years old, and that she had a husband (Laszlo) and enjoyed pleasure and killing. But what else?

“Nadja?…”

“Yes my darling angel.” She was so trained on you.

“I wanna know more about you.” She stopped kicking her feet. A mixture of disbelief and sorrow crossed her face. You were unsure if you should have said that.

“What- what do you mean?” She tilted her head. 

“I mean like- what are your interests? Passions? Beliefs?” As much as you would like to know her answers, you didn’t want to upset Nadja.

She went quiet for a moment. 

“No one has ever asked me that before.” She looked at you with wide, sad eyes. It kind of scared you.

“I mean- if you don’t want to tell me or have the others know or just like want to end the convo here thats-“

She now cut you off by grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it. It was your turn to freeze.

“I do want you to know. I just…I just feel like it’s been hundreds of years since anyone has bothered to ask…” Your heart ached. Bits of pain felt like it trickled from her hand to yours like blood down her sleeve.

“Well, I don’t understand why they wouldn’t. You are so interesting and intelligent and cool and prett-“ You stopped yourself. Nadja raised an eyebrow at you.

“No please, go on.” She smirked now grasping your hand a little tighter.

“No, it’s ok!” You squeaked, it hurt a bit but you didn’t mind. You were more scared of her knowing what you felt.

Nadja let go of your hand.

“Well…I guess I really haven’t told anyone mu-“

Just then there is a knock at the door.

“Nadja darling, I know you’re in there. I and the boys need help wi-“ 

“LASZLO FUCK OFF! I’m busy with y/n tonight so you’ll have to find HELP ELSEWHERE!”

You hear Laszlo sigh on the other side of the door. He knew not to fight her on this. Walking away he calls to the others, “Welp, we are royally fucked.”

You laugh which draws Nadja’s attention back to you. She grins again.

“Do you think we should go and help them?” you questioned.

“No, they’re fineeeee. Where were we…”

And with that, Nadja talked her heart away. And you absorbed every single word.

#nadja x reader #nadja of antipaxos #what we do in the shadows #laszlo cravensworth #nandor the relentless #guillermo de la cruz #colin robinson #nadja wwdits #nandor #guillermo #the guide #laszlo #nadja doll #nadja x y/n

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Haunted

“It's getting dark and it's all too quiet

And I can't trust anything now

And it's coming over you like it's all a big mistake”

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: Reader escapes her abusive ex and moves to the alps. Bucky is in denial about some things, like what the year is, and if he’s dead. Part 1/6

Warnings: Mentions of an abusive boyfriend, Ghosts.

Masterlist Pt.Two

You shiver as a freezing cold breeze finds its way through the cracks of the window. The train is old, insulation and heat are nowhere to be found. You sit back in your seat cupping your hands for warmth, looking around at all the empty seats, you’re sure its only you on the train, no one wants to go to this tiny village in Austrian Alps. You made sure when you picked it, population of only 200, no one would find you there.

Some people might say you’re crazy for moving halfway across the world because of a crazy ex, but it wasn’t just that. You couldn’t shake the feeling of disappearing. How freeing it would be, to live just for yourself. You know it was the right thing to do, you had to much emotional baggage and you left it in the taxi at the airport in New York. It was also who you left in that taxi, they are the reason you walked into an airport with nothing but the clothes on your back and a purse.

They didn’t know you were hidden underneath three layers of shirts, pants, underwear, socks. You looked like a hobo, but no one could tell you had shorts, leggings, and jeans underneath your baggy sweats. No one noticed the sports bra overtop the strapless one, or the doubling of tank tops. Maybe they noticed the light blue of your favorite t-shirt popping out of the collar of your grandma's cable knit sweater. Did they notice the amount of gold bracelets or the diamond rings on your fingers? He didn’t, you hid your hands in your sleeves around him. TSA didn’t bat an eye though. Your purse contains everything, your whole life stuffed into a school bag you’d been pretending was a new purse. You made up the excuse that you needed more organization. You practically brought nothing; he’d notice if it was stuffed to the gills.

You told him you were picking up your cousin from the airport, you knew he wouldn’t let you go by yourself, so you couldn’t pack a bag. You just got extremely lucky when he said he’d wait in the taxi. That was 10 hours ago, and it was night then, it’s somehow 2 pm here. You were exhausted and freezing, you just wanted to get to your cabin.

You bought it in secret when your aunt died last year. Instead of putting you in her will, she left cash behind in the cat food container. She knew your situation, and she knew you’d be the only one to think about her cats after she died. When you found the money, it had a note saying to make a secret savings account, never tell a soul, one day the moment would come when you’d had enough. You know your aunt didn’t mean move to Austria, but what can you do when your abusive boyfriend is a secret agent for shield. You have to be this dramatic, taking chances wasn’t an option now. You had to go as far as you could. Even though disappearing excited you, it was very necessary. The chance was minimal that he would ever find you, but it was enough to keep you looking around the train.

When you make it to the tiny town you don't realize there is a welcome parade waiting for you. It really only consists of some local women and pies. They keep you entertained with their broken English, as you all hike your way up to your new cabin. They tell you how lucky they are to have you, how excited they are for summer and to be able to show you around more properly.

You thank one of the women as she hands you a key, "The bank sent this from the city.". You wave them off, turning the key and stepping inside. Once you're in the door you're standing in the kitchen, a countertop that doubles as a bar separates it from the open concept living room. A wooden staircase leads to a loft bedroom. You smile at the thought of no more slamming doors.

You do see one door, making your way towards it. Opening it reveals an outdated bathroom that needed some tlc. You covered your nose at the stench of mildew. There was a major leak, you need to find where it comes from so it doesn't get worse. You make your way up the stairs, and you search around for the cause of your grief. A sizable patch of mold is found behind your bed, under the windowsill. The realtor's photos did not disclose this damage.

As you’re bent over accessing the costs, you hear a loud creak come from downstairs. It's enough for you to jump up and run to the banister, searching for what caused it. You find nothing, you tell yourself it's just the wind and shake it off. It's too early to be getting spooked. This cabin is so old, there's bound to be creaks and whispers ever once and a while.

You make your way downstairs to have a closer look around. You check the cupboards to find that the women stocked you up with the basic necessities, sugar, flour, salt. You find farm fresh milk, cheese, and eggs in the fridge. You close the tin door; the women were nice enough to give you food but not enough to dust the place. You find some supplies under the sink and get to work.

You dust old pictures of strangers, as you're knocking down cobwebs in the corners a powerful scent clouds your mind. You stand against the wall, steadying yourself. Pine and mint, it is gone before it was truly there. No matter how hard you try to find the smell again, it's gone. You try to explain it away to yourself.

You're done by the time the sun finishes setting. The cabin envelopes you in a dim yellow glow from the old lamps. Ornate rugs where found, rolled up inside an armoire. The leather of the couch gleamed due to the scrubbing and polishing you did. A warmth fills the room, something you haven't felt in your own home in years. You run into the kitchen grabbing a glass of milk and a piece of pie.

You devour your pie and milk before you can find a watchable channel on the tv with an antenna. You settle on the hallmark channel. The acting is enough to make you cringe. But you know entertainment is slim pickings in the mountains. Throwing a fleece blanket around your shoulders your curl up into a ball. You start to fall asleep when the princess on the screen admits she was not who she said she was.

Right as your eyes close the front door bursts open. White flurries intrude on the warmth you created. You jump back, holding your chest. You know this is it, he found you that quick. When no one enters, you run and slam the door shut, locking it behind yourself. You can't help but laugh manically at yourself for clutching your pearls. Turning, you make your way upstairs, today was hectic, and you're too exhausted to deal with anything,

You wiggle your way into the flannel sheets. As you fall asleep you think about everything you left behind. Your family, a few friends, him. Your family was the hardest part. Your little brother Max will understand one day. You are going to miss out on so much, you just hope they don't hate you forever.

A stinging stabs your eye, and before you know it, tears are pooling on your pillow. It is all becoming overwhelming. Leaving your whole family behind, spending all of your aunt's money on a cabin, being alone in this cabin, the constant fear that he is coming. You had luxuries in New York; places to run, people that can hear everything. You don't know what he would do out here, especially because of what you did.

Before you can spiral completely you hear the faint sound of a train whistle. Strange, you think to yourself. The tracks are a mile away back in town, there's no way you should be able to hear them out here. The whistle sounds like it's getting closer and closer. You stand from the bed and look outside the window; you're greeted with darkness and still trees.

With no sights on a train, your heart jumps out of your chest when the house begins to rumble beneath your feet. It's like only the cabin was being affected by the nearby train. You walk to the center of the room, covering your ears as the whistle gets unbearably loud. The cabin starts shaking violently, causing a picture frame to crash on the ground. You let out a scream and fall to your knees.

Everything ceases. The house is silent, your rapid breathing echos off the walls. You raise your head, looking around, you half expect something to pop out at you. When nothing comes, you stand and slowly walk down the stairs. The only thing out of place, shattered glass.

You cross the room to the kitchen, grabbing the broom off the hook. You're still trying to explain it away and catch your breath as you sweep up the shards. Maybe there is a different set of tracks nearby. You're being paranoid because it's your first night. It will take time for everything to be okay again. You toss what is left of the frame, practically crawling back to bed.

You fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow, exhaustion overtaking you. Your dreams are no reprieve from your fast-moving life. You're hurt really bad, and you're trying to flag down a soldier in the woods for help. He's running away from you, holding his shoulder, screaming a man's name. Its muffled, and his face is fuzzy, the only thing you could make out were images of dog tags.

You drift to a happier place as you smell mint and pine again. Instead of clouding your senses, this time it relaxes them. letting your dreams ease your anxiety while you slept.

#avengers fanfiction #avengers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #james bucky buchanan barnes #marvel #mcu #bucky fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #supernatural #ghosts #ghost bucky #the winter soldier #winter solider x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #cabin

[be11atrixthestrange]

The Loft 8

After a bad break-up, Hermione Granger moves into a messy and dysfunctional loft with four single men. What starts as a temporary home until she gets back on her feet becomes so much more, as she learns there's a lot of life - and love - that happens at rock-bottom.

Inspired by the TV Series ‘New Girl’

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Also on A03 | FFN

More Chapters

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In a crazy turn of events, I updated The Loft after 2 years... :)

Chapter 8

A watched egg never cooks. Is that the saying? Ron doesn’t know — he’s terrible at idioms and shit. If it’s not a saying, it’s definitely accurate. 

He stands in front of the stove, waiting for his egg to fry. It’s taking forever, and he’s tempted to just leave it there, but maybe then he’d burn the whole loft down. That, or Vicky would eat it. 

Vicky’s here this morning, just like he was here yesterday morning. And the morning before that. It almost feels like they have another roommate, one that doesn’t pay rent and that Ron didn’t choose. Well, he didn’t choose Hermione either, but that worked out. Sort of. 

Ever since Hermione and Victor became ‘official’, they’ve spent almost every waking moment together. Ron comes home after work, Krum is here. He wakes up in the morning, Krum is still here. The only time Krum seems to spend outside of the apartment is between the hours of 9-5, and one hour at night, 8-9 pm, on Tuesdays and Thursdays. 

Whenever Ron has asked where he goes, he gets all weird and quiet. Whenever he asks Hermione, she doesn’t seem to know or care. 

“Honestly, Ron, it’s important for couples to spend time apart.”

“But Hermione, do you know where he goes?”

“No, because I respect his privacy.”

Why is Vicky the only one in this loft entitled to privacy? He often wonders when someone empties the laundry machine and leaves a trail of socks and underwear across the living room floor, or late at night when he can hear his roommates’ beds creaking, knowing they brought home a companion, a poor soul who has no idea how thin the walls are. 

It begs the question, what kind of dark shit is Krum getting up to between the hours of 8 and 9pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays if he can’t even tell his girlfriend about it?

Maybe he has an embarrassing hobby. Or a gambling addiction. Or a second girlfriend. 

Ron tries to ignore his heart’s fluttering in response to the last thought. What sort of friend would hope for that kind of thing?

“You might want to turn the stove on,” comes a gruff voice, interrupting Ron’s thoughts. “Or your egg will never cook.”

With a groan, Ron flicks on the burner. 

“Are you okay?” asks Krum as he takes a seat at the kitchen counter. “You seem distracted.”

Ron glances back at his unwelcome roommate. His thick robe hangs loosely around his waist, forming a deep v neck that exposes Krum’s chiseled pecs and chest hair. Why can’t the dude just cover himself up a bit? 

“M’fine.”

“Okay then. Look, I’m going to be out of town for the weekend—”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” interrupts Ron. 

“Sorry?”

“You don’t even live here, so you don’t have to tell us when you’ll be out.”

Ron keeps his back to Krum as he lets the awkward pause wash over. Sure, maybe he should be nicer to the guy, but someone should gently tell him he’s overstaying his welcome. Hermione won’t. 

“I was just going to ask if I could keep my car out front. Sometimes I get towed if I leave it out at my apartment—”

“Yeah. That’s fine.”

“Great,” says Krum as he rises to his feet and turns back toward Hermione’s room. “Thanks.”

“Where are you going this weekend?”

“Nowhere.” The sound of Hermione’s door closing punctuates Krum’s response.

Hmm. Very odd. 

Moments later, Harry appears from his bedroom door, still disheveled in his pajamas. “What’s got you down?”

“Vicky.”

“What about Viktor?”

“I’m telling you, he’s giving me the creeps.”

Harry chuckles. “Since when?”

“The cabin trip we all went on.”

Harry lets a full laugh escape, as he responds. “You’re ridiculous. He never bothered you before.”

“I think he’s cheating on Hermione.”

Harry’s eyes narrow and glances toward Hermione’s bedroom. “She doesn’t deserve that, but how do you know?”

“Gut feeling.”

“Ron—”

“I think if I went to his place, I’d find proof.” Ron raises an eyebrow at his friend, who violently shakes his head. 

“No.”

“Please come with me? I’ll give you free beer.”

“No. Plus you always give me free beer.”

Ron shrugs. “I’m going alone then. He’ll be out of town this weekend, and it’s the perfect opportunity to just check in.”

Harry groans. “You’re going to force my hand aren’t you?”

“Just come with me and make sure I don’t do anything unreasonable?”

“Going in the first place is unreasonable.”

“Still gonna do it.” 

Ron knows that Harry can’t resist a little bit of mischief, so all he has to do is wait him out. Ninety percent of the unreasonable things Ron has done in his life have involved his best friend.

Like clockwork, Harry raises an eyebrow. “Okay. When are you going?”

“Tomorrow morning, after Krum leaves town.”

Harry groans. “You know this is a terrible idea?”

“Yes. But I don’t care.”

“We’re not going to do anything illegal, right?”

Ron imagines what exactly they’ll do tomorrow — show up at Krum’s apartment and just open the door? If Vicky’s dumb enough to leave his door unlocked while he’s out of town, then sure. But he’s definitely not dumb. If he was, Hermione would be staying far far away from him, and yet, here they are. It won’t be the first time Ron has snuck into a window. He was a horny teenager with a girlfriend and strict parents before, and crowbars are quite effective. 

“No, of course we won’t do anything illegal.”

Harry nods. “Then fine,” he says, the reluctance in his voice rather light. 

“Knew I could count on you.”

x

It doesn’t take long for Ron and Harry to locate Viktor’s address — the internet is a wonderful invention. They pull up to his street and emerge from the car. On Ron’s back is a bag equipped with a crowbar, a rope, and a clipboard. Ron’s found that holding a clipboard is the best way to look like you’re supposed to be there.

“None of this makes sense, mate.”

“Sure it does.” 

As Ron shuffles along the pavement of an unfamiliar neighborhood, Harry trots behind him in an effort to keep up. 

“You have no evidence that he’s cheating.”

“That’s why we’re doing this. To find some.”

“Ugh.”

Harry and Ron eventually stumble to the front porch of Viktor Krum’s duplex. It is larger than expected, but slightly run-down. The grass in the front lawn needs to be mowed, and on the front porch sit two pots that once housed plants, maybe. By the looks of it, no one has watered them in years. The paint is peeling off of the siding, and one of the stairs on the front stoop has rotted through. Even though their loft is still rather dumpy, Viktor’s makes it look like a castle. 

“No wonder he’s always staying at our apartment.”

Ron peers around to the side of the house. A cracked window reveals an unmade bed inside. From his research, Ron knows that Krum lives in the first apartment on the left. 

“We’re going in through the window.”

“Breaking and entering, cool,” grumbles Harry. 

“Just entering. No need to break.”

Harry and Ron tiptoe across the overgrown grass and when they reach the window, it takes both of them to wedge it up high enough for them to fit through. Harry props Ron up and he slithers head-first into Viktor Krum’s bedroom. Harry follows, and both boys land in a thud on the carpet of the darkened room.

“You’d think he’d be able to afford a nicer place,” says Ron. 

“Maybe he’s saving for an engagement ring or something,” sniggers Harry.

“Fuck mate, why would you say that?”

“To watch you squirm.”

Harry and Ron get to searching Krum’s apartment, flipping over couch cushions and rummaging through bookshelves looking for something — anything — that might belong to a girl who isn’t Hermione. Jewelry, clothing, makeup, perfume. One sniff and Ron would surely be able to tell if the perfume is hers. 

“What’s this?” Harry’s voice travels from a smaller room attached to the living area. Ron peers inside to find a cluttered desk next to a bookshelf. Lining the shelf is a collection of Agatha Christie and Stephen King novels, and writing utensils galore. Harry is standing at the desk with a thick binder in his hands. “I think it’s a story.”

“Let me read it.” Ron yanks the binder from Harry’s hands and turns to a random page. 

“She was dead. So very dead. The way her bushy brown hair splayed across the ground and nearly blended in with the fallen leaves made her look so natural in that state, like she was finally at peace. But her eyes were open, revealing the look of shock in her face. But there was something else there. Recognition. Betrayal. 

Her hand still clutched the stab wound in her stomach, and Special Agent Reid knew that her stomach lining wasn’t the only thing that had recently been broken. So had her heart. 

Clearly, she knew her killer. And most likely, if statistics proved to be true — and Spencer Reid always trusted statistics — it was her lover.”

“What the fuck is this?” splutters Ron.

Harry laughs. “I don’t know, but I’d be embarrassed if someone found that at my desk. I think he’s just writing. Special Agent Reid is a character on Criminal Minds.”

“Yeah, and the dead girl with bushy brown hair is clearly Hermione.”

“It appears to be fanfiction.”

Who the fuck writes fanfiction? “Oddly specific fanfiction.”

“I don’t think it’s anything to be concerned about,” shrugs Harry. “It’s probably just a creative outlet.”

“She was killed by her lover, Harry.”

“We should probably go,” says Harry. “I’m nervous someone saw us sneaking in here, and we can’t find what we’re looking for.”

Can’t find what we’re looking for? What the fuck is he talking about? “Harry, we’ve found something much worse than what we’re looking for.”

“Fanfiction?”

“No, evidence that he thinks about killing Hermione.”

“He doesn’t think about that, Ron. He’s just writing.”

“Why aren’t you more concerned about this?”

“Honestly?” Harry shrugs. “Because he’s not a bad guy. He treats Hermione well. He’s kind. And we just discovered an embarrassing secret of his and should probably keep it to ourselves.”

“Don’t you think we should tell her and let her decide if it’s concerning?”

“Hermione’s a grown woman who can take care of herself.”

Ron sighs. He pulls his phone from his pocket and snaps a picture of the open page of Krum’s story. “Well I’m going to tell her.”

“How are you going to explain why we were in his apartment?”

“Dunno.”

“Want my opinion, Ron?”

No. Not really. Ron decides not to answer, but Harry continues anyway. 

“Leave her alone. It really feels like you want him to be cheating on her. Or to, I dunno, be plotting to murder her.” He gestures to the binder when he emphasizes the word. “See how ridiculous it sounds when I say it?”

Ron has to admit that Harry has a point. 

“I know you care about her, so stop sabotaging your friendship by meddling in her relationship.”

Ron grunts. “When did you become so good at relationships?”

Harry gets a strange look in his eye. “Well, if you must know—”

“No, I don’t need to know,” grumbles Ron, as the memory of Harry and Ginny holding hands flashes across his mind. 

“Fair enough,” says Harry with a smile. “Let’s get out of here before we get caught?”

“Yeah,” agrees Ron . Probably a good idea. 

x

Hours later, Ron is cleaning glasses at the Burrow while Harry sits across from him at the bar, picking at a pile of french fries in front of him. “I still can’t believe we snuck into his house.”

“I can,” says Ron with a shrug. Honestly, it felt a lot like storming Cormac for Hermione’s belongings when she first moved in. Some people make Ron want to throw logic out the window. 

“You’re an awful influence, Ron.”

No, Hermione’s the awful influence. Ron turns to stack newly washed glasses on the shelf at the back of the bar. He is definitely being unreasonable. Hermione, in no way shape or form, caused him to break into Krum’s apartment. It was his concern for her that did. Because he cares. Plus, even if Harry doesn’t agree, if you ask Ron, they found what they were looking for. 

“Hello, roommates.” Hermione’s voice echoes from the front door. It’s only three o’clock, and the bar doesn’t pick up until later, and the lack of people in the room makes Hermione’s presence seem all that much stronger. 

“Oh, hi Hermione,” says Ron.

“Hey, Hermione. Good to see ya,” says Harry. “Also, I’m going to be late to meet Gin, so see you back at the loft later—”

“I didn’t know you were hanging out with Ginny today.”

Harry pushes his half-eaten french fries out of the way and rises to his feet. “Bye!” 

Hermione takes his empty chair, and both of them watch Harry scuffle out the front door with an extra pep in his step. 

“That was weird,” says Hermione with a shrug. 

“Yeah.”

She pulls Harry’s plate of french fries closer to her, and plucks at one. “So what did you two do today?”

“Nothing, really.”

“Really? I just didn’t see either of you at the loft.”

Ron avoids her eye contact and shrugs. “Guy stuff.”

“Right,” she says, while she cocks her head to the side, studying him. “So are you working till close?”

“Yep.” Ron feels a pang of guilt at how terse his answers are. Ever since the cabin, he’s been quite short with her. He tells himself he’s just giving her space, but deep down, he knows it goes beyond that. 

Hermione persists. “Mind if I hang out here for a while? Obviously Ginny’s busy with Harry and Viktor’s gone for the weekend.”

“Sure,” he says. Then, willing himself to keep the conversation flowing, he adds “You still don’t know where Viktor is this weekend?”

Hermione hesitates before answering. “Just on a trip.”

So she does know where he is? Or maybe she doesn’t and it worries her.  

Overwhelmed with a desire to come clean, Ron turns back to her. “Can I tell you something, and you promise you won’t get mad at me?”

Hermione seems to brighten at the fact that his answer is longer than one word. “No, I can’t promise that, Ron. But please tell me.”

Ron groans. He shouldn’t say anything. But he does. “He gives me a weird vibe. Something’s off.”

“Of course he does,” says Hermione, rolling her eyes. 

“What does that mean?” asks Ron, his defenses rising. 

“Seriously, Ron?” she asks, her voice incredulous. “Tell me, Ron, see that guy in the booth?”

Ron follows her gesture to one of the only other patrons currently in the bar — a middle aged man reading a book and sipping an IPA. “Yes.” “Does he give you a weird vibe?”

“No, not really.”

“If I were to walk over to him and snog him, would he then give you a weird vibe?”

What kind of question is that? “Yes, but because he’s willing to snog a stranger in a bar—”

“You’re not willing to snog strangers at bars?” Ron’s mind darts back to Lavender. Sure, he was willing to snog strangers at bars, but they all know how that turned out. 

“Okay, what are you saying?”

“I know we’re dancing around it Ron. It’s the elephant in the room.”

The hair on Ron’s arm tingles as it stands on edge. The last thing he expects is for Hermione to actually name the elephant in the room. Does this mean she’s about to shut him down once and for all? Tell him she’s happy with Krum? And that he should fuck off? Well, Fuck. 

“Okay, but—”

“I love being your friend and your roommate, I’m in a stable relationship, and not willing to change that right now.”

Shit. 

Hermione continues. “Will Viktor and I marry each other? Probably not. But at this point in my life, this is what I need.”

So, Hermione thinks Ron is pining uncontrollably for her? Is that how it is? “I didn’t break up with Lavender because of you, you know.”

“Oh, I know.”

Does she know, though? 

“And that is not why Krum gives me a vibe.”

She laughs. “Okay, why then?”

Ron groans. He really shouldn’t show her. Even if she thinks he found it at the loft, she’d probably just get angry at him for going through his things. But, for some reason, he can’t resist. “I found this today.”

Ron pulls his phone from his pocket and clicks through his photos. When the photo of Krum’s little story surfaces, he slides his phone to her across the bar. 

Hermione picks it up and her eyebrows narrow to the text. “Where did you find this, Ron?”

What can he say? On his desk. In his apartment. The one I broke into earlier. “He left it out,” says Ron. It’s technically not a lie. 

“That’s an invasion of his privacy,” says Hermione, coldly. 

“Does it not concern you?”

Hermione shrugs. “Honestly, no, it doesn’t. He’s already shown me.”

“What?”

Hermione contemplates before giving up more details. “He’s taking a creative writing class, and this was one of his assignments,” she says, gesturing to Ron’s phone. “To write a fanfiction story from his favorite show. And he loves Criminal Minds.”

“Are you serious?” Harry was fucking right.

“Yes, it’s what he does every Tuesday and Thursday night. And that’s where he is now, actually, at a writing retreat.”

“So he’s like… serious about writing?”

Hermione shrugs. 

“It doesn’t bother you that you’re the dead girl in that story?”

“Not really, no.”

“And that you were killed by your lover?”

Hermione laughs but shakes her head. 

“It’s not very good.” He’s definitely grasping at straws now. 

“I know that,” says Hermione. Ron’s pleasantly surprised that she agrees with him. 

“Why does he do it?”

“He enjoys it. Isn’t that enough?” Finishing off Harry’s old fries, Hermione wipes her hand on a napkin. “Can I have a cream ale?”

“Sure,” says Ron as he reaches for a pint glass. “So you’re confident that he doesn’t want to kill you?”

Hermione laughs. “No, he doesn’t, thank god.”

“He’s not going to break your stomach lining and then your heart?”

“Okay,” groans Hermione. “Don’t be mean.”

Ron hands her the dripping cream ale. She smiles and takes it from him, her cheeks tinging pink with what Ron presumes is secondhand embarrassment. Honestly, it’s quite nice that she supports him, even though his hobby is a bit weird. It’s what Ron would call a green flag. Krum is a lucky bastard.

“My heart isn’t breakable right now, anyway,” she adds, before taking a sip of the foam layer at the top of her beer.

Ron cocks an eyebrow. 

“Still have too many walls up, you know.”

“Oh I know, you’re a total ice queen.”

Hermione laughs, and Ron feels himself relax. It was a tough few days of not speaking freely with her. 

“Thank you for talking to me. I missed having you as my friend,” she says. 

The way she emphasizes friend sits strangely with Ron. As though she’s dictating the specific role she wants him to play right now. For some reason, it doesn’t feel quite like being friendzoned, and he can’t figure out why. There’s something temporary about the way she says friend. 

Or is he reading way too much into that? He doesn’t want to be her friend. And yet, he loves being her friend. How does that even make sense? 

“Right,” says Ron, cautiously. “So if I wanted to write bad fanfiction, would you support me? As a friend?”

“Of course!” says Hermione cheerfully. “I’d beta read for you.”

“Well then, maybe I’ll take up the habit. Show you I have other talents besides giving you free beer and being your attractive roommate.”

Hermione rolls her eyes, yet a smile graces her lips. “I bet you’d be a good writer,” she says as she gulps down the last of her beer.

“Maybe you’ll find out. Want another beer?”

“Sure!”

Ron pulls her glass away and refills it under the tap. This is definitely the weirdest friendship he has. But he’ll play along. 

For now. 

x

It is far too late when Ron finally makes it home from the bar, and as much as he wants to sleep, he’s too wired from his conversation before. He strips down to his boxers and collapses into the bed. Although he would love to continue talking with Hermione, there are no signs of life in any of the bedrooms, so it’s a safe bet that everyone in the loft is asleep. 

Ron turns to his side and reaches his phone on his bedside table. Without a second thought, he starts typing away. Hopefully Hermione has her text notifications on silent. There is no reason she can’t have two story tellers in her life. 

“She was about 5’6, had brown eyes, and wore a Hamilton t-shirt. She loved to watch romantic comedies and was a total coffee snob, even though she couldn’t tell the difference between a cappuccino and a latte. Her sultry gaze and bushy brown hair splayed wildly out at all angles, making her appear like a sexy medusa. In fact she could turn you rock hard in an instant. She had her whole life ahead of her. Or so she thought…”

Before he can overthink it, Ron presses send. 

His heart rate quickens as he stares at his message. She’s asleep, so there is no way she’ll see it until tomorrow morning—

Then, three little dots appear at the bottom of his screen, and his palms begin to sweat. Oh shit. 

“Oh my god, Ron, what is this?”

Well, he’s committed now. 

“Little did she know, her life as she knew it was about to end. In walked a man, about 6’5, bright red hair, and a pale, yet chiseled adonis-like body. Nothing like her current boyfriend, but everything she wished her current boyfriend could be. He didn’t waste time writing fanfiction and playing sports, and instead crafted beautiful cocktails from the basement dive bar, was quite broke, and regularly forgot to do his laundry. Like a REAL MAN.”

Hermione is quicker to respond this time. “You’re ridiculous. But keep going please.”

Yes, ma’am. “And he wasn’t just a sex god. He was also a… dun dun dun… MURDERER.”

“LMAO. This is so mean. But I’m laughing so hard.”

Ron continues typing away. “She knew all of this. And yet, she still wanted him. She didn’t care if it was her last night on earth, because she knew it would be her best night on earth. And that was all she needed.”

“OMG now you’re getting carried away.”

She’s not wrong, yet something urges him to keep going. “She entered his apartment, so he could enter HER.”

Yeah, maybe he is getting carried away, but it’s fun, so what’s the harm? Plus, she promised to support his creative writing journey. 

While waiting for Hermione’s response, Ron’s bedroom door bursts open, and Hermione stomps across the room. Her face is flushed and Ron can tell she is trying to hide a smile. “Phone, please?” she asks, her arm extended.

“No, I’m writing a story!”

Hermione stands her ground. “You’ve lost your phone privileges.”

“But I’m going to be the next Stephen King.”

Hermione lets out a laugh and dives onto the bed, wrestling his hand for his phone. She braces her knees on either side of him, pinning him between her legs. Ron makes a show of struggling, but as much as he wants to keep her there forever, he eventually lets her win. 

“Fine,” he says, handing over his phone. 

It only takes a moment for them to pause, limbs entangled, for Ron’s mind to run wild. How easy would it be for him to turn the moment serious? He could wrap an arm around her waist and pin her to him. He doubts she’d resist. She has a boyfriend, but she also seems surprisingly comfortable with her arms draped around Ron’s body. She knows he’s only wearing boxers under the covers, right?

They linger there for a moment that solidifies Ron’s inkling from before. She bites her lip, her eyes dart down toward the covers. The way she doesn’t immediately jump off of the bed when she notices that he’s in his underwear suggests that the friendzone is an arbitrary construct. 

Ron steadies his voice in an effort to hide his rising heart beat.  “Careful, Hermione. I’m a sex god with a habit for murder.” 

Yeah, took one second for him to fuck that up. 

“I fucking hate you,” she says, as she wrangles herself back up, his phone in her hand. “You are most definitely not a killer.” 

Yeah, it took one second for him to fuck that up. However, Ron’s stomach flutters at the sound of her swearing. She hardly ever cusses, only when she’s with him. “Right, but am I a sex god?”

Hermione laughs. “I wouldn’t know, would I?”

Ron raises an eyebrow. “Care to find out?” 

Maybe he shouldn’t have had that whiskey shot at the end of his shift. He’s acting a bit too bold. 

“I have a boyfriend.”

Her answer echoes in Ron’s mind. He doesn’t miss the way Hermione averts her gaze, and her cheeks flush red.

“I know. We’ve established that.” Then, with a inhale to gain courage, he adds, “But if you didn’t?”

Maybe Ron imagines it, but a look flashes across her eyes, and the corners of her lips turn up in a smile. She shakes her head as if to halt the beginning of a fantasy before it runs wild. “I really should sleep. Goodnight, Ron.”

“Night, Hermione.”

Ron grins as she turns and leaves the room, fully aware that she never answered his question.

#be11a loft #romione #ron and hermione #ron x hermione #hermione granger #hpromione #ron weasley #angst #ronweasley #romione fanfic #hp fanfic #muggle au #slow build #slow burn

[fayes-fics]

Kinktober Drabble #3: Role Play

Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader (Modern AU)

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, professor/student role play, oral sex (f to m), vaginal sex.

Authors Note: Unbetaed. Err this one got away from me a bit in terms of word count. Yes I know these quiz questions are not university course level, it's just a married couple role-playing together ;) Although I now might need a Professor AU Benedict lol. Also sorry but this picture is the closest I could get to modern professor Benedict, with the elbow patches etc.

“What happened to your homework?” He peers over his glasses at you as you sit a little back from his desk in a plastic seat. 

“I’m so sorry, Professor Bridgerton, my dog ate it,” you simper, tugging at the tiny kilt you are wearing, bringing attention to the flash of thigh where your pull-ups end.

“That is quite possibly the worst excuse I have ever heard,” he raises an eyebrow. “I’m sorry y/n, but I will have to fail you unless you can turn in this assignment before midnight.”

You glance at the clock. “But, Professor, it’s 9 pm; I have no chance to turn it in by then. Is there nothing else I can do to pass your class, sir?” you emphasise the last word, then bite your lip and play with the top button on your tight white shirt.

His eyes flash at you before schooling his expression. He clears his throat, removes his glasses and nervously shuffles some papers on his desk. Oh, he is playing the part so well.

“I could give you a quiz right now? I will allow you to pass if you answer all the questions correctly.”

“Oh yes, please, thank you,” you enthuse.

He stands and rounds the large wooden desk and perches against it right in front of you, crossing his arms and his legs at the ankles.

“Question 1. Who wrote ‘A thing of beauty is a joy forever’?”

“John Keats,” you respond instantly and are surprised when he peels off his tweed jacket with the elbow patches.

“Well done,” he compliments. “Question 2. Which famous poet and playwright was born in Ireland in 1854 and died in Paris in 1900?”

You swallow and glance at him, communicating silently that you don’t know. Oscar Wilde, he mouths at you with a smirk, breaking character briefly.

“Oscar Wilde,” you reply quickly, then in gratitude, you uncross your legs to show your complete lack of underwear.

It’s his turn to swallow heavy, and he stumbles over his “Correct.” Then he removes his crumpled shirt to reveal the toned lithe body you know so well. It feels like the temperature in the room has notched up a few degrees.

“Professor, why are you taking off your clothes?” You play as if you're nervous.

“There is also a practical exam at the end of your quiz, y/n,” is his reply. “If you perform to my satisfaction, I will give you an A.” 

You feel yourself flood at his words. Oh, god, yes.

“Question 3. Whose magnum opus is titled Don Juan? And is very overrated, I might add.”

It’s your turn to smirk; there’s one poet Benedict really doesn’t care for. “Lord Byron.”

“Excellent,” with that, he reaches down and rather disappointingly only removes his brown leather brogues.

“Should I be preparing myself for the physical exam as well, professor?” You tease wide-eyed, popping open a button over your breasts.

“Not necessary, y/n,” he breezes, still leaning down, removing his socks. “I can already see you are well prepared for what I need of you,” his eyes linger on the wet glaze between your legs very intentionally. 

Oh fuck, Benedict.

He straightens back up. “Question 4.  Edward Rochester is…”

“Jane Eyre,” you interrupt hurriedly; he knows it’s one of your favourites.

“That may have been too easy,” he chuckles, then pushes off the desk to stand, and with a heated look, he unbuckles his belt and allows the loose corduroys to drop to the floor.

“Professor…” you sigh fervently, taking in the sight before you, touching yourself unconsciously. All that is left now is his small black boxer briefs. Definitely Benedict’s, not his character’s; they are filled with a rigid cock you are desperate to touch.

“Y/n,” his voice is silky, “look at my face, please, not my body.”

“Yes, Professor,” your answer is coy, biting your lip and gyrating your hips against your seat, seeking friction against your swollen clit as you peer up at his face. His molten stare burns into you.

“Final question, if you get this correct, you will not fail,” he reminds. “Name the author, play and character from this line ‘For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?’” His crooked smile catches your heart. It’s your favourite play.

You lean forward and grab his hips which he does not stop or protest.

“William Shakespeare,” you begin as you sink from the chair to kneel right in front of him.

“Much Ado About Nothing,” you continue and pull his underpants down yourself.

“BeneDICK,” you answer pointedly, wrap your lips around his cock, and suck him deep into your mouth as he groans loudly and grabs your hair in their bunches.

“God, yes. You pass,” he growls.

“Thank you, Professor Bridgerton,” you mumble around his cock, letting him rock deeper as he directs your head, wrapping your hair around his hands. Revelling in his taste, this moment. This role-play was a bloody genius idea.

“Now I have passed; how do I get my A, please, Professor?” you ask flirtatiously, looking up at him as you pull back to tease him gently.

“Lay over my desk. Right now.”

You spring to your feet and pointedly turn around, flip up the back of your mini kilt, rub your butt cheeks against his cock, and lower your top half over his desk. 

“Like this, Professor?” you inquire, looking back over your shoulder at him coquettishly. 

“Yes,” he hisses, one large hand grabbing the crest of your hipbone as he lines up and sinks into you. You both moan loudly as you adjust to the sensation. He always feels so wonderful lodged deep inside.

“Don't be gentle,” you murmur as he crowds over your back.

“Okay, darling,” he whispers, placing his wedding ring over yours as he laces your fingers together on the desk, the hand on your hip slipping between your thighs as he pulls back and surges into you again.

He proceeds to fuck you so hard that you have marks on your hips; he kisses them better every night until they fade.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton #kinktober #kinktober 2022

[blurryeyeswhump]

When I hear the knock at the door I know it’s him immediately. Even the sound of his knuckles against wood is weak, hesitant, terrified.

It’s after 11 pm. He isn’t expected, and apparently couldn’t even be bothered to call or send a text first. He’s just hoping I’m awake and not busy and in the mood for him. I am. I set down my third glass of whiskey I’ve barely had a taste of and walk to the door in no hurry.

I open the door to him pocketing his hands quickly, no doubt wringing them just seconds ago. There’s a warm wind whipping through his long, messy, dark, hair. He’s uneasy.

“Hi, Milo,” I say. He’s looking behind me expectantly, hoping to be let in.

“Hey,” he says quietly, “I was hoping- I mean, if you were up— I just wanted,” he stops and tries to swallow down the anxiety gripping his throat before wincing a nervous smile at me.

I’m going to make him say it.

I lean against the door frame and cock my head a little. I say nothing. I want him to do it by himself. He’s a big boy despite the way he has to look up to meet my eyes.

“Silas,” he says, defeated, and it’s a plea all in itself. His stormy eyes now staring straight through my chest. Those eyes are something else. Like pitted cross-sections of steel.

“I need you,” he says.

“To what?” The words leave my mouth before he finishes.

“To hurt me,” he says before sucking in a shuddering breath. He’s looking at the ground now.

I let the silence sit between us just a few moments longer and then I speak.

“Alright,” I say. I step back and hold the door for him to slink inside. I shut and lock the door and watch him stare at the now closed exit. Reconsidering?

He looks back at me and I start walking wordlessly toward the cellar door. I whisk the glass of whiskey from the table and down it on my way down the hall. He follows me. When I open the door I gesture for him to go first and he does.

It’s been a little while since I’ve seen him. He’s only ever come here. I’ve never been to his place and the only time I ever saw him out in the “Real World” was when I unknowingly showed up at the restaurant he works at. He looked like he’d seen a fucking ghost. Taking mine and my date’s order, beads of cold sweat forming on his temples, stumbling over his words, and still likely covered in bruises under his white collared shirt. I ran him ragged that night and the uppity, blonde bitch I was entertaining was all too willing (or too engrossed in her phone to care,) to allow me to abuse the waitstaff. I haven’t been back and he’s never mentioned the fact that I stiffed him.

I follow him down and when he’s three steps from the bottom I plant my hand between his shoulder blades and shove.

A cry rips through his throat and stops abruptly when he hits the ground. The sound is replaced by coughing as he gags against the the dust wafting up from the impact and gasps to find the air that was knocked out of him. I step around him and set my now empty glass on my workbench.

“Jesus, Silas,” he sounds almost annoyed.

“Undress,” I say.

“What?”

“Take your. Clothes off.”

This is new. I’ve never made him do this before. I’m feeling adventurous. He might act shy but he’ll do it. I find it hard to imagine something he wouldn’t do for me. He’d lick the dirt off my shoes if I told him to, I’m certain of it. I’ll tuck that idea away.

He’s pulling himself to his feet. Nothing broken from the fall it seems. He turns and looks at me, maybe gauging how serious I am.

“Do you need help?” I ask.

He huffs through his nose and turns his back and starts unbuttoning his shirt. While he’s busy I grab a pair of cuffs and hook them through a latch I drilled into the wall. I did it just for him. I pop the latch shut and turn around to see him standing now in his underwear and socks.

His cheeks are red hot.

“Everything?” He asks.

“Everything.”

He looks down and uses his heels to drag down and step out of his socks, and then he looks up at me once again. It takes no more prompting and his thumbs dip into the waistline of his boxers. He peels them off and I steal a glance at the dark little trail of hair and his nervous cupped hands hiding the rest. I meet his eyes and smile a little.

“Knees.” I say jingling the cuffs attached to the wall.

He sighs through pursed lips and walks over to his spot.

“Back facing me,”

He kneels facing the wall and rests his forehead against it after offering his hands up to me. I lock him in and step behind him. He’s got a cute, fat little ass. Almost girlish. I never would have guessed.

I crouch down and he shifts uneasily. My fingers trace down his back, up his arms. I’m searching for evidence that I’ve been here. Some already yellowed bruises are still just barely visible. Like I said it’s been a little while. Some thin shimmery scars as well. What to do?

I could take a belt to his back. Open his skin up with a box cutter. See how red I can turn his ass.

Maybe I should keep him forever this time. The thought is amusing enough that I say it out loud. He huffs out the ghost of a laugh that’s bound up tight with a nervous apprehension.

“Would you like that?” I ask, and before I reconsider, I press my lips against his spine and goosebumps erupt down his back.

“I bet I could get really creative if I had you here all the time. Maybe I could even out-crazy you, hm? How long would it take for you to have enough pain that you get sick of it?” I speak against the back of his neck and then bite down hard on the spot where it meets his shoulder. He chokes down a whine and pulls weakly at his restraints.

“Hey, Milo?” I coo softly.

“Yes?”

“Would you ever want me to fuck you?”

It hangs in the air and he seems to hold his breath as the chills down his back reignite.

This has always been one thing. Since the moment I met him, he wanted pain. He wanted to hurt and cry and scream and be denied the mercy he begged for. Nothing else has ever come up.

Maybe it’s the liquor, maybe it’s not but I’m tired of wondering if he wants more and imagining the sick, delicious ways I can use it against him if he does.

“Speak, Milo,” I slide a hand around him just let it rest on his thigh. He leans back against my chest, gasping when I touch him.

“Yes!” He says as if I reached down his throat and dragged the word out myself.

I snicker against his ear.

“For how long?” I ask, and he answers immediately.

“The whole time,” he’s breathless.

“Oh you fucking little pervert,” I say and I kiss his neck while he squirms, “I have an idea,” I continue.

“Maybe, one day I’ll bring you upstairs, I’ll tie you up and gag you and throw you in the bedroom closet. Then I’ll fuck someone while you listen. That might be fun.”

I hear him sniff and I grab his hair and crane his neck back so he’s looking up at me. Tears. Just barely, but they’re there.

“Awwww, no? You don’t like that? You want me all to yourself? I was thinking about the blonde girl I brought to the restaurant. Remember her? Gorgeous, right?”

He nods weakly.

“Yeah, I thought so too,”

If this was going to work, it worked by now so I decide to check. I slide the hand on his thigh closer and closer to the center. He starts to whine and I cover his mouth with my left hand. My right hand inches closer and closer to its destination between his legs and ah! — there it is. He’s hard, painfully so. He winces and closes his eyes. I give him a little squeeze.

“Ohhh. You are really fucked up, huh?” I say before kissing the back of his head and letting him go. I stand up and he presses his forehead to the wall again. I cannot even begin to imagine the humiliation burning in his veins right now, let alone imagine enjoying it.

I’ve had my fill of psychological torment tonight. We’ll revisit this next time. I want screams now.

Without another word I grab the belt I left draped over a chair down here last time, fold it on itself, and start in on him. He screams and starts crying immediately since he was already so close to begin with. After ten or so consecutive strikes to his back I pause and he’s wailing out something nearly unintelligible. I can only tell from spending so much time with him in this state that he’s begging for me to keep going. He’s shaking violently and his arms are yanking at the cuffs hard enough to leave marks but he’s begging, so I oblige. I can feel myself hitting harder than normal but he’s really inspired me tonight. A few more and I pause only long enough for him to hear me speak.

“Tell me thank you,”

He does and I can tell he really means it.

#whump #whump blog #whumpee #my post #whumper #intimate whumper #masochist whumpee #masochist #asking to be hurt #non-sexual sadomasochism (gone sexual???) #silas and milo #nudity #psychological torture #belting #cutting mention #improper restaurant etiquette

[jmagnabo92]

PM - 75 - May 14 - Pride

@prongsfoot-microfic

Sirius is delighted to show James his new uniform for the partners of the Gryffindor quidditch team that they intend to wear to show off their pride.

AO3

NSFW

***

“James!” Sirius yells, as he comes into the dorm room all excited.  “Guess what?”

“You want kisses?” James teases, as he sits up.

“Oh, always,” Sirius grins as he gives James a kiss.  “But that wasn’t what I was saying ‘guess what’ for.”

“Oh?  Then, what?”

“I finally got those uniforms for the partners of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team,” Sirius states.  “And you’re going to love them.”

James grins, “Color me intrigued.  Going to put it on for me?”

“Naturally.  Close your eyes.”

“Really, Si?  We’re adults and I’ve seen you starkers.”

“It’s for the surprise of the outfit, Jay.”

“Fine.”

James laughs and closes his eyes.  He doesn’t have to wait for very look before Sirius says, “Alright, look.”

He opens his eyes and sees Sirius – his Sirius – wearing a red skirt that falls mid-thigh, with a top of a similar color with white lettering that reads ‘Gryffindor’s Pride’ and pompoms.  He’s got on white socks that go to his knees and white trainers.  

Despite his surprise, he can’t help admiring the outfit.  “Oh, Merlin, Si… you look…”

“It’s called a cheerleader’s uniform.  Since I’m the only male partner, the birds thought I wouldn’t go for it, but I told them that you would particularly enjoy it and I wasn’t afraid of anything if meant showing my pride for you.”

James grins and makes his way over to Sirius.  “I love it – and you look like…”

“Like what, love?”

“Like I want to bend you over and take you right here,” James states as he pulls Sirius close to him.  His hands running over Sirius’ arse through the skirt.  

Sirius grins and takes his hands and runs them under the skirt to his bare arse.  “Maybe that’s exactly what I was hoping for.  Hence, no underwear.”

James groans as he squeezes Sirius’ arse and gives it a playful slap.  “On the bed, now.”

Sirius gives him a kiss before moving over to the bed, positioning himself so that his skirt was flipped up and his arse ripe for the taking.  James doesn’t hesitate to lube up Sirius’ hole and plunging in quickly.

“Oh, yeah, love.”

“Like that?” James gasps as he begins to thrust.

“Yes, yes, so much – harder, faster.”

James is always eager to comply, slipping his hand from Sirius’ hip to his cock to make sure that he gets attention too. Far too quickly they’re both coming and it’s over.  

He turns Sirius over and nestles himself between his legs.  He gives him a kiss.  “For the record, you’re wearing this more than just to show off your Gryffindor pride at games.”

Sirius grins.  “Guess that means you like it?”

“Naturally,” James says.  “You in this skirt with easy access – so hot.  If only I could get you to wear it all the time.”

Sirius chuckles.  “How about just as a special present?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Good.”

#Prongsfoot #Bambibelle #Sirius Black #James Potter #75

[amina-asceric]

June 11 2009 in Kijimea graduatet High School in Hungary. With 17 she moved out of her house and moved to Russia with Maximillian in his Apartmant. She started to go to Uni with 17 too. And on June 20 she had her farwell party at her home she had a grill party in 2010. At 4 or 5pm Backyard Gill party. Kijimea sitzt 5 Jahre im Gefängnis. Sie mit 21 jahren ins Gefängnis gekommen. Kijimea ist heute 26 Jahre alt.

Today i woke up on a Sunday. I lay in bed my long teal hair his draped on the pillow i streched my my arms let out yawn. I tought to my self "Wow even tough i went o bed at 9pm i'm still kind of tired,,. I do want to go back to sleep for another five minuts. But i cant because today is special day. I roll on my side to look at my clock. It is Sundy June 20th 2010. My family is throwing a backyard grill party at 4 o 5 pm. I got up and started getting ready. I went to the bathroom to use the toilet. Then i brushed my teeth. I took of pjama and put on my bra and changed my underwear. And then i used a deoderant. I went to my closet and picked an outfit. I threw on my black nevada t-shirt, black ripped jeans,and black socks. When I was done getting dressed, I went down the stairs. "Dad, can i have a smoke,,? I asked. No it's 9am it's time for breakfast. Come sit at the tabe your mother made toast and eggs. "Mmmh,, that looks tasty. I said to myself as i sat down. My mother made us toast with eegs and sandwiches. My parents were calling all of my siblings for breakfast. "ALEX, ERVIN BREAKFAST IS READY!,,.

Kijimea's Mother's name is Kincső is girl's name meaning "treasure".

Kijimea's Father's name is Áron Szabo

Kijimea's Younger brothers are Alex and Ervin

The name Kincső is girl's name meaning "treasure". Kincső was invented in the 19th century by the Hungarian author Mór Jókai for his book A jövő század regénye, "The Novel of the Next Century." It's still a Top 100 choice in Hungary, where it peaked in 2007.

9.10.2023

Bye Tokkis 🐰🐇

#happyday #lol #kijimea szabo #ocean lover #oceanlover #original character #oc

[anthrofreshtodeath]

If you’re still doing prompts #13 and #27 with Jane being vulnerable?

Sure! The second one only kinda counts as vulnerability, I think.

___

“Hold Me” 

Maura lies awake, long after she should already be asleep. The bedclothes feel good against her bare skin, because it’s summer and she’s gotten desperate enough to use her air conditioner, which makes them crisp. Cool. But, instead of letting that lull her, she stares at the ceiling, watching the blades of the overhead fan whoosh above her.

Frank had been such a cad at dinner.

To Angela especially, but also to all his children. Maura tries not to compare people to one another, knows how much it can hurt, but she can’t help it in this instance - Arthur, for all his faults, would never. Even Paddy, criminal mastermind, would never. Is that truly the man Jane had grown up idolizing?

Oh, Jane.

Jane had rebuked her father with tears in her eyes, apologized to Maura for the scene, like she were the one who had anything to apologize for. Jane had driven her father home - well, to his hotel - and that was the last Maura had heard of her this evening.

So the entire scene plays in Maura’s head, and longing plays in her heart. If she can be honest with herself here in the dark, with no one else around, she’ll admit that she is awake because she wants to hear from Jane. She wants to see Jane, ideally. But she’ll take the vibration of an incoming text message on her nightstand. She’ll take a hurried, irritable call to let her know that Jane got home. 

So, she waits. It is eleven pm, four hours after dinner abruptly ended, but sometimes Jane drinks when her world comes crashing down, so Maura anticipates waiting for longer. She fears she’ll fall asleep before any sign of Jane comes, but Jane probably needs space. Jane is so aggressive about claiming her space. 

Which is why Maura startles when the front door opens and closes, with the sound of a key turning in the lock, and then the deadbolt engaging when the latch clicks. Tommy is with TJ. Angela is with the Lieutenant. Frankie is at work; he texted to let her know.

It’s Jane, then. 

Maura wills her lungs to expand so that her heart will slow. Big, full inhales leading to controlled exhales. Her pulse pounds. Despite her efforts, it ratchets up when her bedroom door creaks. 

She cannot pretend to be asleep. She props herself up on her elbows, one hand going to her duvet to keep it from exposing her breasts, and she watches Jane come in. She is about to speak, about to tell Jane to give her just a moment so she can put on a robe or a nightgown, but Jane’s movements stop her. Catch it in her throat.

Jane stands near Maura’s side of the bed, kicking off her boots and unclasping her belt buckle. She does it slowly, not like she’s showing off, but more like she’s tired. Her face is dark and brooding, at least what Maura can make of it in the shadows from the streetlamp outside her window. 

Jane’s pants drop, and she strips out of her dress socks, adding them to the pile. She breathes the breath of concentration, a grunt or a sigh here and there, the kind one breathes when running through an automated task. Her t-shirt goes over her head, and then her sports bra does, and Maura licks her lips in the stifled need to talk.

Something tells her to wait. 

Something in her best friend’s gait, the way she is folding herself toward the bed, tells Maura to wait. She lies back down, shoulders against those crisp sheets, just in time for Jane to crawl under the covers and on top of her, and still, she waits.

They’ve never done this before. They’ve never been naked - or Jane almost-naked except for her underwear - together before. To change for an event in the same locker room? In passing for work? Sure. But Jane stretches her long body until it covers most of Maura’s, her nipples sliding just under Maura’s as she becomes heavy, and it is clear that she has orchestrated for this nakedness to take time. To be intimate. She wraps her arms around Maura, slithering them between Maura’s body and the mattress, and heaving another sigh into the center of Maura’s chest. Right over her heart. “Hold me,” she begs, just once. 

Maura obeys with fervor. 

“Your heartbeat is my favorite sound” 

“You have to be patient,” Maura tells Jane, both of them seated on the sofa, her soft henley lifted up so that both of their hands rested on her growing pregnant belly. She has her fingers over Jane’s longer, stronger ones, because Jane keeps moving in attempts to feel a baby that doesn’t appear to be very cooperative at the moment. 

“Maybe he’s shy,” Jane says, brow furrowed together in concentration, face getting closer without her realization. 

Maura shakes her head. “Rest, would you? Stay awhile, calm your body. He’s not going anywhere. I just ate a banana. You’ll feel him eventually.”

Jane does the opposite, pops up onto her feet. “Somethin’s wrong,” she announces and then walks over to the front hall where Maura’s medical bag sits.

“Jane? Jane, what do you mean something’s wrong? What are you doing?” Maura calls, peering over the arm of the couch to where Jane has gone. 

Jane rummages, and then returns with the stethoscope. “Ah ha,” she exclaims with renewed purpose. She affixes it to her ears, and then palpates around with it, looking suspiciously like a doctor to Maura.

Maura hisses from the cool press of it against her, and then settles. “You’re very resourceful, you know,” she says, hand back on Jane’s on her belly, the one that isn’t wielding the instrument. “I should have thought of this. Pregnancy brain.”

Jane leans forward, chasing the sound of thumps until it gets strongest, and then her face turns serious again. “Gotcha,” she says, her breath whispering over Maura’s skin. “You know what kid? Your heartbeat is my new favorite sound.”

#otp prompts january 2023

[sketchbook-of-shadows]

posting this here but it's mostly setting the scene for the time being. maybe this'll help me get my ass on working on chapter 2 more

Point:Paimos

Chapter 1: Faith

1917 words, ~10 minutes read

The rain was pelting down on the rough concrete below. Erina loosely held her umbrella above her head, as she sat on a bench, waiting outside of the Church for her parents, idly twisting and twirling the handle of the umbrella in her hands. Flocks of families exited the church, many pulling up their jacket hoods or putting up their umbrellas before either returning to their cars or walking down either end of the street. She looked down and bounced her legs beneath her off-white puffy dress, which contrasted with her rich, melanated skin. A voice awoke her from her stare into the distance.

"Erina,"

Erina looked up to see her father looking down at her, standing just outside the entrance to the church. Despite not going far, her father seemed to be sweating ever so slightly, clutching his rosary tightly against his chest.

"your mother told me to let you know that she and I will be having a short meeting with some of the pastors. They want to talk about the possibility of the winery producing some custom wines to use for their sermons, remember the sample bottles we bought with us from our wine cellar?"

Erina nodded her head silently in response, glancing over at her parent's vineyard in the distance down the street behind her father.

"We'll only be gone for around an hour, maybe two or three hours at the most. Here are the keys, we won't be too long. Your mom has her keys with her, so don't worry about having to let us in. There should be money in the lockbox underneath the sink if you feel like ordering in some food. There's quite a bit of money in there, so don't go spending it all in one go."

Her father gently threw the house keys to Erina, and they landed in her lap.

"Okay," Erina stood up to kiss her father on the cheek goodbye, "Thanks, dad.  Love you, see you later."

She waved to him whilst walking away.

"See you later, alligator." Her father responded with a playful grin.

His kind and gentle face began to contort as his lips began to tremble and a tear fell down his cheek, watching his daughter depart in the distance. A completely veiled nun appeared from behind him and tapped on his shoulder to lure him back into the church, glancing behind him as he walked back into the church as tears began to flee from his tear-ducts.

Erina returned to her house, unlocking the front door and retiring her umbrella to the pot of umbrellas in the corner against the wall. She kicked off her shoes, settinf them on the floor in the hallway and retreated upstairs to her bedroom. There, she changed into a red sweater with a butterfly design embedded into the centre of the garment, black leggings, and fluffy black socks. She sat on her bed, pulled out her laptop adorned with butterfly stickers, and began to finish the last of her homework assignments.

By 10 pm that night after Erina had finished all of her coursework and her regular chores, she noticed that her parents had not returned, nor had they contacted her mobile phone. No calls, no texts, nothing.

"Maybe they're just busy overnight in the vineyard with the wines and forgot to let me know. It happens more nights than I'd like. They'll be back by tomorrow morning if anything, but they'll probably stay through to the afternoon in the vineyard." Erina comforted herself with that thought.

She retrieved her pyjamas and underwear from her walk-in closet and began to make her way to the en-suite that was connected to her bedroom. She showered and donned her royal blue silk bonnet before retiring to the comfort of her warm bed, the pattering of the rain on her window lulled her to sleep.

–

Monday morning came and went, as did the drag of the school day. The sky was still a murky grey from the Sunday rain, and puddles remained in the depressions of the cement sidewalk. Erina sat on the short stone wall outside of the desolate Rynden Post-Primary Education Centre, awaiting her friend Ashley. Her knees rapidly bounced beneath her heavy boot-cut jeans, trembling slightly under the bite of the cold wind that wisped through the town. She glanced around the eerily quiet space, the wind whistling around her head as she diverted her gaze from the empty footpaths to the empty parking spaces, to missing person posters that tumbled like tumbleweeds along the road and footpath.

The main doors of the entrance to the Centre burst open.

"Hey 'Rina!!" Ashley beamed and jogged over to Erina, engulfing her in a tight embrace,

"Sorry it took so long, Mrs. Daught took forever critiquing my assignment from last week. At least she didn't do it in front of everyone and humiliate me, but I wouldn't put it past her to do it, the old crone."

Ashley had been Erina's best friend and partner-in-crime her whole life, they went to Primary school together and lived on the same street. Erina scoffed, released herself from Ashley's constricting embrace and stood up to leave.

"Let's just go, we'll do some work at my place. My parents should be back by now anyways, I think they spent the night at the vineyard again. My dad said that they had to have a meeting with some of the pastors from the church about some 'custom wines' so they were probably getting ahead of the workload there." Erina posited, walking down the footpath with Ashley.

"I hope by 'work' you mean that we get shitfaced from the wine your parents keep in the cellar because the Pinot Noirs are just DELECTABLE!" Ashley exclaimed and blew a chef's kiss.

"Ha ha, very funny," Erina said, sarcastically, "no, we'll just get some work done over a split bottle, no getting shitfaced on a Monday night. Friday? Yes, but Monday? Nahh. Have some decorum!" she jested.

Ashley cackled and swung her arm around Erina's shoulder as they continued their path to Erina's house, kicking and stepping on the loose missing person posters that littered the footpaths tumbling around her feet.

–

Erina swung open her front door, "Mom!? Dad!? Are you home yet!?" she bellowed into the house. Only her voice echoed back to her.

The two girls entered the hallway, retired their shoes to the shoe rack, and walked through the entrance adjacent to the front door that lead to the dining room, setting their required equipment onto the dining room table.

"Hold on, I'm gonna go check their bedroom, they might be asleep," Erina said and took off up the stairs before Ashley could acknowledge what she said. Erina knocked on the door to her parent's bedroom, waiting a few seconds before entering quietly. The room was as her parents left it, a neatly made queen-sized bed stood across from the balcony doors. The door to the master bathroom was still ajar and empty. Her mother's crimson silk bonnet sat undisturbed at her marble vanity, her makeup disorganised from the last application, and her silk robe hung on a hook on the door of the master bathroom.

Erina felt as if all of her organs fell to the bottom of her torso all at once, and a lump announced its presence in her throat. She approached the bed, which was neatly dressed in cream satin sheets, and sat down on it, composing herself with deep breaths. Ashley had made her way up the stairs, curious as to what the silence and the absence of Erina were.

"They're not here, are they?", Ashley inquired solemnly as Erina lifted her head to face her and gently shook her head. Ashley stood at the top of the staircase, her arm on the bannister.

"I should call the church, they were last there. If not, I'll try the vineyard's number." Erina proposed. Ashley held out her arm, motioning for Erina to join her back downstairs. Erina followed Ashley downstairs and made her way to the landline that rested on the wall next to the umbrella box in the hallway. She input the number and waited for the line to connect.

"Why do you have to call the church through the landline?", Ashley queried,

"I'm not sure, my mom always said that the church doesn't accept calls from mobile devices. Something about modern technology messing up their landlines-", Erina interrupted herself as the call was picked up,

"Oh hi, it's Erina Collins, I'm Marsha and John's daughter, you know- the vintners?", she paused,

"Yeah I'm just calling to ask if anyone's seen them after they left the meeting yesterday, they still haven't come home.", she paused once more before responding,

"Okay, I'll call the vineyard, just wanted to know if someone's seen them yesterday after they left. Thanks anyway."

She hung the phone back on the landline box and turned to Ashley.

"No luck, I'll try the vineyard."

"They'll have to be there at least. Were your parents answering any of your calls last night?" Ashley asked.

"Just straight to voicemail every time."

Erina and Ashley walked back into the dining room where they sat at the dining room table, and Erina retrieved her mobile phone from the bottom of her bag. She dialled the vineyard's public number, set it to speakerphone and set the phone on the table in front of herself and Ashley. It rang for a few seconds before being picked up.

"Good evening, this is Collins Vineyard and Winery, how can I help you today?", a dead-inside cheery customer service voice answered.

"Hi, I'm Erina Collins- Marsha and John's daughter. Are they there?"

"I'm sorry love, I'm afraid they're not. They haven't been around since Saturday and haven't picked up any of our calls. Are they not at home?"

"No, they're not, that's why I called to see if they were there. Could you let me know on this number if they show up at all, please?"

"Of course love, let us know if you see them around too. Uhm, and if they don't turn up soon, just know that the winery and the vineyard are under good management, the business will continue as usual so you won't have to worry bout much on the business end unless they're gone for a long time."

"I understand. Thank you anyways."

"No worries, love"

The phone clicked, hanging up the call. Erina's legs had been vigorously bouncing up and down underneath the table throughout the call. Ashley placed her hand over Erina's laid half-closed fist under the table and began to caress her knuckles with her thumb.

"It'll be okay, 'Rina," she whispered.

Erina sat hunched over the table, her hand holding up her jaw as tears fought their way out from her glossy eyes and her lips began quivering.

"What do I do now? I can't- I can't think of anything else to do.", Her voice cracked as her palms clasped around her face, tears sliding down the outer edges of her hands.

"We should file a missing person's report of your parents.", Ashley stood up and gently ran her hand around Erina's back, taking her place in the chair next to her.

A shaky, "Uh huh." was all that was heard from Erina.

"Let's just relax for a bit before actually filing it. I'll make us some tea." Ashley walked over to the open kitchen space that was behind Erina and set the kettle on to boil.

#Point Paimos #Point:Paimos #my writing #fiction #my ocs

[guzhufuren]

thank you for tagging me, the sweetest bun ever @kissporsche

NAME: Vlada ❤️‍🔥

SIGN: aries (i don't believe in astrology tho)

HEIGHT: shut the fuck up!!!!! i'm 161 cm

TIME: 4:45 pm

BIRTHDAY: born in spring 1998

FAVOURITE ARTIST/BAND: Stray Kids. other than them i listen to songs from random artists i found/picked meticulously/heard or tv show/movie soundtracks. last two years kpop has been dominating my playlist

LAST MOVIE: i'm gonna watch Nope tomorrow, so this one will become the last one soon, SO EXCITED!!!! love horror movies and watching Us was a whole religious experience for me

LAST SHOW: Vice Versa

WHEN I CREATED THIS BLOG: December 2016 right before Skam S3 finale. i had a different blog since 2013 but decided to create all new social media accounts and emails that day

WHAT I POST: memes, thirsty gifsets, from time to time shitposts or opinions

OTHER BLOGS: i have a lgbtq blog on a different social media platform (for people from post-soviet countries)

DO I GET ASKS: once a month yes

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 9-10 cause my brain meds elongate my required sleeping time

WHAT I’M WEARING: tshirt and underwear is the home outfit of mine all year long, rn it's cold so it's also wool socks

DREAM JOB: daycare worker/kindergarten teacher, i'm getting a uni degree for that currently!! i love, adore and worship babies more than anything in the world ❤️

DREAM TRIP: i don't like traveling, prefer moving to my dream place and staying there forever. i'm planning New Zealand, or Thailand if they legalise gay marriage and adoption in the next 2 years. but i do want to have a trip to Korea to get more tattoos since koreans are the best tattoo artists in the world

FAVOURITE SONGS (and quotes from them):

KB — be free

i like your tight blue jeans; summer of freedom

where am i oh i; just wanna taste your lips

BLACKPINK — Pink Venom

taste that pink venom, taste that pink venom

straight to ya dome like whoa, whoa, whoa; straight to ya domе like ah, ah, ah

Stray Kids — Maniac

maniac; pingping dorabeorigetji

maniac frankenstein cheoreom georeo; maniac maniac

Jeff Satur — Why Don't You Stay (Thai)

khae ter, khae mi ter

mai wa jer lok ti rai duangdao

dtae wa song cha khao bpai

nan thaorai op kot chan nai kamkheun ni cha mi khae rao

why dont you stay

tagging darlings @bestiesincrime @itsza @onstoryladders and my babie @dontislav besties do it if you want to only ❤️

#tag game #mine #tumblr stuff

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

2.12.24 Monday

9:28 am

I have work later at 9pm....Whew! I just washed my underwear and socks and I have to do my laundry tomorrow.... I'm planning to save for a new washing machine an inverter kind. I'm trying to find a new laundry shop for my clothes coz I'm so tired to wash my clothes coz I had have a long journey from Cavite to MOA, it is considered Manila and Cavite apparently it is still a province. But of all province being fair Cavite is the fastest province to go to Manila... What else?I still have this self-pity coz I couldn't go back or we can't go back. There are some progress happening here in Cavite, the good side of it but in our life here it is somehow a bad story... Like what I said I can't go back or we couldn't go back... It is somehow hellish for me that I considered this a military service for 17 years that day, someone took away my original life.

I used to have 30 pairs of rubber shoes and 20 pairs of heels... I just arranged it there on my stairs... My old cute barbie room... It was all gone... During my high school until college, I maintained around 50 pairs ( all were brandeds and expensive fashion shoes ) that my classmates told me that are you an artist? We just laughed coz something happened... Some were just hugging me or tapping me on my shoulder...

Simply Peachy, Peaches, Peach...

1:34 pm

Hope to see my Daddy-BF... To have some life after 17 years and I want someone who can accept my situation but I want some twist in life... I really want someone who can speak English hoping it is his first language but if not, at least he can speak English.

I will hate Mitch if she is famous behind my back. I will feel super jealous if she is part of the Mickey Mouse Group without even telling me that they gave me this "simple battery" since 2007...

1:42 pm

Camaraderie Caravan!

I'm planning to eat rice this week in the pantry as a sign of "Camaraderie Caravan" and for my health issues like I'm healing my pimple on my chin. Hoping for a good luck in love life...If there is Daddy -Bf which I like the black guy and our Cutie QA Revo!!!!

Then, I wanna do my abs again, I need strength and stamina not only for the bounce but for health issues and I wanna be fit and my pimple.

Let'a eat in the pantry this week as my

Camaraderie Caravan!

I will eat RICE in the pantry this week....

To have some good fate in love life sometimes you have to blown up a bit then recover...

7:24 pm

I still have windblow.... Here in Conduent....

I'm still working, I have to... I need money...

#Youtube

[temporarymoods]

taking care

Hi blog, don't think I've forgotten about you! I've just been so busy, and then I got sick, even though I didn't want to admit that I was under the weather at first. Now I'm waiting for my period to come, and every month it's so tantalizing. There's this very parade-y buildup, I mean the PMS is quite rough, and it all starts like 7-10 days beforehand, but then just as it's supposed to crest, everything stops. There's a calm before the storm, which without fail has me begging for it all to hit me already!! Part of my eagerness has to come from the fact that I am more prepared than the army for such an onslaught of destruction. Think of a way of collecting period "blood"--- guarantee you I have it, in its most organic form no less. Tampons? Check, with clean cotton. Pads? Multiple kinds, with magic powers. Cup? Yup. Technical underwear? They're actually great, and I own three pairs. I guess every month I just go rando with my method. Maybe switch it up on day 3 (definitely, actually.) My old therapist, the one who was a bit too woo, told me that your period is a gift, in a way: Built-in self-care time, or rather a cleansing, a purging, when deep covered 'stuff' can come to the surface, and you can solve it. I think she thought that cramps were the direct consequence of emotional/spiritual turmoil which was on the sufferer to figure out. Safe to say I haven't taken that last one with me, but the rest sticks, kinda. The idea that you can make something out of once-nothing is not lost on me, as we know. So, being able to ceremonify your period, yeah sure, I'm there. Definitely, actually. Rituals! Greater understanding! Problems and solutions! All make for quite a nice moment. Plus, even though so much about my period does fucking suck, and that's for me, privileged white lady, it means my body's working, and that's not just a given. I remember after my surgery when everything kinda started going again like a system reset, I got my first period a couple of months later. Overjoyed because it meant I was finally normal and healthy and on track with my life, as opposed to fallen off in a ditch, where I had been for too long. This history certainly informs my current affinity for my period--- and, not the be forgotten, the joy not being pregnant :) So, like every other fourth week, I'm kind of looking forward to the spectacle.

Meaning-making is like sticking your hands in a sandbox. Or more like fetching water nearby to make the world malleable under your touch.

Coziness, fuzziness... I've taken these things for granted. I appreciate nmte (now more than ever) the stereotypical, tropey acts such as wearing slippers. "It's what women do," I've known for a long time. But I never felt like them. I've always struggled with leaning into an under-blanket kind of night. But I get it now. And I should really be embracing it more-- being in bed, wearing thick socks, living in sweats. Maybe I'm tired. But you don't need to be exhausted to rest. And resting, squeezing that orange of living for a drop of sweetness, what more could we be here for?

I desire more sweaters. I'm going to a fall festival at a farm soon; it will surely be the highlight of my month. This peach tea I'm currently sipping is very nice. My apple candle is bright smelling and perfect. I love that I get to sleep, and dream (so I can wake up and realize it is not real.) One of my dear friends is flying to visit for the long weekend. Tomorrow I'm going to a new cafe, which I've managed to make a habit of. Schoolwork is tough, but it will be over soon, and my everyday will blossom better. I owe some texts to my mom. The air was warming tonight. A newly discovered sustainable fashion brand had a great sale; a package will be arriving soon. There's a list of movies I'd like to watch this month, when I've got time in between open markets and thrifting. I've been asked on a date, but nervous to respond. The silhouettes of my room decor reflects how much I care about this bedroom setting, bringing me peace. I'm glad I got to blog again, even if it feels overwhelming. Hopefully my Depop listings will reach the right people.

What would be the first step in securing safe absences for those dealing with menstrual pain, really, where would we even start? I'd love to get some acquaintances around and discuss this. How would I do that?

Haha, Kate

p.s. brain noisy, pillow time

#menstrual cycle #october #foryourconsideration #comfort #autumn air #wheretheleavesat

[not-a-font]

Real shit that happened during my Christmas vacation to Chicago:

Had to leave a day early cause there was a projected blizzard so we planned to drive halfway there, stay a night at a cheap hotel, then take a train the rest of the way

Since we left a day early I forgot to pack extra bras and a toothbrush and my vitamins

Tried to buy bread at Panera but they were out of big loaves

When we got to the hotel, it was announced that grandma was put in hospis and would most likely die before we got back

The first memory brought up about grandma was when she left a sausage in the back of her car and there were maggots in it when she took me to dance lessons

Caught a cold somewhere during the drive to the hotel

Had to share a bed with my little brother and I couldn't sleep because of my cold and the loud heater and the baby crying in a nearby room and my older brother who was playing DND in the bathroom, and my younger couldn't sleep because of my loud sniffling so we probably got a max of 3 hours sleep that night

Got up early to catch the train except the train didn't come so we waited outside in -40° weather for about thirty minutes for absolutely nothing

Also my younger brother was wearing sweats with holes and no socks so when we got back into the car he started crying because his legs felt like they were burning

My legs also felt like they were burning despite wearing long underwear under my pants so I also started crying

Ended up driving the rest of the way to Chicago but the van wouldn't ever completely warm up since it was so cold outside so everyone had numb feet

Got to Chicago and parked in a lot a few blocks away from our hotel because it was cheaper, but found out the stairs to the bridge to cross the river were closed so we had to walk all the way back to the lot and drive to the more expensive lot right next to the hotel.

Ended up getting access to only one of the rooms at first since it would be cheaper to wait to check in until 1 pm.

I demolished all of my brothers at new super Mario bros for the DS

Finally got our other room except I couldn't stop shivering for about three hours straight and we also ran out of tissues

Also the room number was 911

Found out the the tap water was so opaque that it looked like milk

Played cards (against humanity)

Finally warmed up with some hot chocolate and pizza roles except now I felt hellishly hot

Had carrots and celery for dinner and went to bed at around 7:30

Anyways the rest of it was pretty alright and we saw Puss in Boots 2 but damn that was a rough start.

#not-a-post #somebody pay me royalties if they make a movie #i guess my brother also got frost bite ice skating #and our deep dish pizza almost fell on the floor cause the stand tipped over #promise i enjoyed it though it was genuinely fun

[dirtspace-archive]

survey i stole off of someone who stole it off of someone

I'm deleting any sections that i dont have an actual answer for so this is probably not a good version to steal lol

 -- T E L L  US  A B O U T  Y O U R S E L F --

name:: Kes

zodiac sign:: aquarius

current location:: my dorm

eye color:: brown

hair color:: also brown

hair type:: tangled af

hieght:: 5'3

shoe's you wore today:: nastiest ickiest tennis shoes known to man. I did just get a rlly cute pair at the thrift store tho so i might share those later

your weakness:: iocane powder

your fear:: iocane powder

have you ever ridden a mechanical bull:: this is a really weirdly specific question

do you want to:: no

goal you would like to achieve this year:: survive

first thought when you wake up:: groovy yeah baby rawr shagadelic

best physical feature:: my resistance to stab wounds

who is your bestest freind:: my twin

when is your bedtime:: I am an adult. 10 pm.

pepsi or coke:: pepsi

mc dondalds or burgerking:: Wendys

what is the last song you sang:: austin powers theme

what is your biggest pet peeve:: when i'm wearing socks and they roll up and pinch my ankles

do you drink:: not rlly

ever been drunk:: no

do you smoke:: no

do you "SMOKE":: no

do you sing:: yea i guess

what color underwear do you have on:: weirdly specific question, again...

do you want to go to college:: I am there as we speak.

have you ever been in love:: Romance is not the only kind of love

do you wnat to get married:: someday

do you believe in yourself::  I mean you gotta, what other choice do you have

do you believe in others:: hell yes I do

do you like thunderstorms:: not during tornado season

do you play an instrument:: trombone/baritone

what do you want to be when you grow up:: ALIVE

what country would you like to visit:: anywhere ever. I love seeing cool stuff.

how many CD's do you own:: at least six

how many DVD's do you own:: literally none

how many tattoo's do you have:: 0 and I don't really want any

how many piercings do yo have:: 3. two in one ear and one in the other (don't go to claires to get pierced ears.)

how many things in the past do you regeret:: at least six.

 -- F A V O R I T E S --

shoes:: my milf heels. i feel like a baddie in those thangs

radio station:: the one that plays literally anything. One time it played the entertainer (scott joplin) followed by 9-5 (dolly parton) and the whiplash killed me

drink:: water

car:: the scarab

place:: my bed on a cool night when I'm all alone. Windows open, smell of rain on the breeze. Music playing over my headphones.

song:: Currently obsessed with Maybe (Dan Reeder) but literally anything by him is really good

movie:: princess bride

color:: purple

meal:: anything I eat with my friends

 -- R I G H T  N O W --

what is todays date::  October 22 2022

what time is it:: 6:54 pm

who are you thinking of:: an assignment I'm supposed to be doing

what are you listening to:: my friend reading a book. Pages flipping and such.

do you love someone:: I love everyone

do you know where your mechanical bull is:: I'm beginning to think that this may be a euphemism

does someone love you:: of course

is it raining:: no

how many myspace friends do you have:: 52

are you happy:: I try to be

#2022 #october #october 2022

[glassblossomsthunderstorm]

Attention UK friends and others preparing for an energy-crisis-winter!!

I recently had a chat with someone from Scotland in which we discussed the terrifying reality that many people probably won’t be able to afford to heat their homes this winter due to the energy crisis and the ever increasing energy price cap... Looks like the UK is once again hit especially hard by their delightful clown show of a government, so I gave my mate a few tips on how to stay warm and thought I should share them here as well!

Please note that I am in no way an authority in this field, this just comes from someone who’s worried about y’all and who knows what it’s like to live in a house where it would regularily be 10°C indoors in winter for ten years!

Hot water-bottles are your best friend! Especially in order to warm up your feet. Cold feet equal an overall chilliness!!

Similarily, you can take a hot foot bath. You don’t have to take too much time out of your day for this, you can work on everything that you can do while sitting down; just get a small tub or even a bucket that fits your feet and place it at your desk, than fill with hot water and if you want add some salts, essential oils or body wash (just remember to bring a towel to avoid slipping when you get up!)

Tea and other hot beverages will warm you from the inside out

So do stews and warm soups

Cover cold surfaces with blankets/rugs e.g. I always have a blanket laid out over my desk chair to avoid direct contact with the cold fabric; cover leather couches and the like with soft warm fibres; invest in a small rug/or even just a towel for tiled floors (believe me, even if you’re wearing socks this still makes a difference)

If you can, invest in a fan heater! These things have saved me from many a biting cold morning. They heat up small rooms very quickly, however they also use quite a bit of electricity, so I would mainly use them for around 10 to 20 minutes. Depending on the room size this is enough to warm up a room by 1-3 degrees C

If you have a desk job make sure not to sit too still for too long a period of time. Stretch a bit, wiggle your fingers and toes, masage your feet a bit or even jump slightly up and down to get your blood circulating again

Additionally, if you’re like me and have poor circulation and your fingers start to freeze when working on a PC, fingerless gloves can really help you out there! And again, there is no shame in draping yourself in a blanket!

There is nothing better than being able to slip into a warm bed on a cold winter night. When you get home from work/school/etc put on a kettle, fill up a hot water-bottle and place them in your bed under the blankets. You can also first wrap your pyjamas around it and then place them in your bed. If you live with other people and you get home first, you could even prepare this for them as well; will not only warm their beds but also their hearts :)

Wear layers! Make sure to wear a base layer that soaks up sweat and keeps you from getting cold or ill, for example long underwear (we’re not trying to look sexy, we’re trying to stay warm, folks!) I prefer cotton and other breathable fibres for this, but again, since I’m not an expert I recommend looking up “How to dress in layers”, many camping websites offer great tips for that!

If you have to go out, be sure to wear a water-resistant outer layer & shoes or, if you have the possibility to change, bring some spare clothes! I ALWAYS have a pair of dry socks in my bag; wet feet are ambassadors to illnesses

Visit libraries, community centres, and other public spaces that might be heated and don’t cost too much

Cats, dogs etc. are little furnaces and make great snugglebuddies that will often happily function as personal heaters!!

If you end up sweating in the night (either because you followed all of this and ended up being too warm or because you remembered that everyone who might become the next PM is absolutely dead inside), remove the moist clothing, have a change of clothes nearby, and maybe even change your sheets if necessary, lest you’ll get sick.

And last but absolutely not least: check BEFORE IT’S WINTER if your windows/window frames are well insulated! I can’t begin to tell you how much of a difference good insulation makes! If that’s not the case and you can’t afford to change this, there are lots of pretty effective and reasonably priced ways to stop the cold from coming in/the heat leaving, for example insulation tape/curtains and draught stoppers!

Please feel free to add to this!!

I know a lot of this might seem obvious, but I also know that many people (especially younger ones, queer folks who might not have a great support system etc) were never taught how to properly cook an egg or other “essentials”, so please never look down on people who might need the “obvious” tips!

Again, I am absolutely no expert, I can just draw from personal experience. I live in the Alpine region where it will easily be -10 to sometimes -20°C in winter. Please share this, because being cold fucking sucks, and if this maybe helps to alleviate some of the suffering that’s sure to come or might stop someone from falling ill, then I’d be more than happy!

Take care everybody, sending you all lots of warmth and love!

#stay warm #energy crisis #signal boost #united kingdom #tips #lifehacks #tips and tricks #winter #northern hemisphere #hope this helps #at least a little #politics #cold #Living Life with Lyr