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strgrlxox · 11 months

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𓆞 something beautiful 🐚

🌊 ↺ okay it's been a whileee holy shit also i half-assed the proof-reading so if u see any mistakes...no u don't (be gentle w me, okay??) 😭:/ ❞¸

+ ¸ ❞ ellie's looking mighty edible in that picture also 🤤 ↺ 🌊

🌊 || SUMMARY :: your first time w ellie

🌊 || CONTAINS :: horny!reader lmao. take a hit every time i say the word "need" and ur lungs might explode. oral (r). fingering (e). unrealistic couch sex lmao.

🌊 || WORD COUNT :: 2.3k

she was absolutely lethal. perfect and methodical and addicting and lethal. all day, your mind raced with a million and one thoughts, all of which led back to ellie. always ellie. you needed her, desperately, and it killed you.

the relationship was fairly new, the two of you have never gone farther than a few heated kisses that only left you panting and starved. you were pretty good at maintaining your composure for the most part...but not today. not with the dream you had about her last night.

ellie had invited you over to hers, and even though something in your face seemed hesitant, you were quick to agree which she was overjoyed about. she had missed you and was excited to see you again.

even though you tried your best to mask it, ellie could still tell something was bugging you as soon as you stepped through the door. she could hear it in the way the door slammed shut, she could feel it when you threw your keys on the table near the entrance. you were ravenous, the desire to feel her growing much too persistent to ignore. you could only hope that maybe you'd get lucky, that she'd notice and take care of you.

unfortunately for you, ellie mistook your need for anger. she just assumed you had a bad day at work.

"are you okay?" she speaks gently, so softly it breaks you. you mumble a reply under your breath, not trusting your voice to conceal how you truly feel. your plan was to let the feeling fester until it (eventually) simmered down.

ellie, however, didn’t seem to agree with your unspoken “plan”. she had never seen you this dismayed. tired? of course. annoyed? sure. but whatever happened today left you in a state she couldn't quite pinpoint. she contemplates pushing until you tell her the root of the problem but decides against it, figuring you'll tell her when you're ready.

you sit next to her on the couch, doing your best to participate in conversation like you normally would...but fuck does she make it hard. why did she have to look so good?

she felt your stare. "what are you thinking about?" she asks in a sing song-y voice.

you, always you. you fought hard to shake the thoughts away, hating that her voice was silk and unknowingly seductive.

"babe?"

she's speaking but you can barely hear her over your thoughts.

"babe?" she calls out harsher to garner your attention. it reminds you of how it feels when she plays rough with you. pinning you down, straddling you. what always started as something silly quickly turned into a heated kiss after your laughs died down.

but there were gentler times also––––much more tranquil and dreamlike. like when she'd ask you to be still so she could craft your beauty onto a blank page or a bare canvas––––sometimes, she told you to pose so she could snap pictures of you on her camera or on her phone when she felt particularly sappy. she liked to look at them when she missed you but she'd never admit that to you.

"are you feeling okay?" the concern in her voice almost makes you laugh.

you hum.

"yeah, ellie. i feel fine." it's a lie, purely for survival. her eyes squint and she looks at you like she can see right through you, you really wish she could.

"i know when you're lying."

she waits for a response but you don't give one.

"just tell me what's wrong so i can fix it." she almost whines. you like the way it sounds, it only fuels your need. "let me help."

you shut your eyes and her hands cup your cheeks, the warmth of her palms spreading over your skin. you can hear it when she starts to speak again, words as gentle as her hands, but you cut her off.

"just kiss me, ellie." she seems caught off guard by the sudden request and hesitates. so with the sweetest voice you can muster, you whisper a soft. "please."

ellie groaned at the plea. the sound is primal and desperate. she could never deny you. not when you sounded so wanting––––so beautiful, so good. her hand rests on the back of your neck, pulling you into her as she leans in. you follow her mouth like it's magnetic. the kiss is passionate and intense, and you melt into her. you love the way she could always kiss you and make you forget everything––––how to stand and how to breathe. sometimes, when ellie would kiss you, you’d forget about all the air in the world except for what was in her lungs. you let your hands dance in her hair as you smile into her mouth, letting her taste you.

"i need you ellie." you pant against her open mouth and she listens to your every word with rapt attention. "i need you so bad."

she looks at you like you've answered her every prayer. swallowing deeply, breath fanning softly over your face. "are you sure?"

you groan, pulling her mouth to yours again just to taste her before pulling away.

"yeah, okay." she consumed your mouth again––––sucking your tongue into hers, pulling you as close to her as she possibly could. you straddle her lap, and you can feel the sharp intake of breath she takes when you let your kisses trail down her neck.

you whine against her skin before pulling back and tilting your head, giving her your neck to taste. her hands feeling all over your skin like she couldn't touch you everywhere at once. her palms are a comfort as they rub soothing circles on your hips. she can sense your overwhelming exhilaration and she's trying to calm you.

"tell me..." her breaths are heavy and her voice is filled with lust. "what you want or you get nothing."

you whimper, grinding your hips against hers once––––desperate for some kind of friction. "want you."

she smiles. "you already have me, baby––––you know that. try harder."

the whine that leaves your mouth is pathetic.

"i want you to fuck me. i wanna be embarrassed tomorrow because all i can think about is what you did to me and how much i loved it." you moan in her ear, it's thin and needy.

she inhales quickly, a slow shudder trailing over her body. "lay back for me, babe."

the groan in her voice is enough to catch your attention and compel you to obey her command. you let your body rest against the couch.

she is gentle. removing your shirt slowly and kissing softly on your exposed skin. leaving some marks as she trails down your body, lifting your skirt up over your hips. "can i taste you, baby?"

you hum at her, nodding eagerly. she chuckles up at you, placing a few chaste kisses on your left thigh before doing the same to your right. she moves your panties to one side, and you can't help but shiver at her heavy breaths against your core.

"fuck, baby," she's panting, lips agape as she lets her finger run over your entrance. "you're so wet, already..."

her gaze meets yours and though you want to, you can't bring yourself to look away. you look in her eyes and you can see the change. the moment when her want turned into need. when her craving for you grew past the point of return. "how long have you wanted this?"

you whimper, finally willing yourself to break away from her stare. "so fucking long."

she laughs again, shaking her head and then placing a little kiss on your clit that has your hips jolting. "you could've just asked, babe,"

she flattened her tongue, licking from your entrance to just below your clit before moving back down.

"i'll know––––" your voice gets caught on a moan when she lets the tip of her tongue flick across you. "fuck, i'll know for next time."

she hums into you, the vibrations make your eyes water. you shut your eyes, your chest heaving. because as good as you imagined sex with ellie would be, your imagination was nothing compared to the real thing. the way she holds your legs open so that she can devour you properly. how she sucks and licks and lets her fingers fuck into you. and when she looks up at you so that she can see all the pretty faces you make and you can see how fucking pussy drunk she looks. she moans into you, humping into the couch because the taste of you turns her on so much it aches.

you squirm when she sucks at your clit, hard then soft, but she maintains a strong grip on your thighs, keeping you firmly pressed into her mouth. she got a taste of you and she was fucking reeling, she wasn't gonna let you run.

"fuck, ellie." you whine again, your hand flying to her hair. "it feels so good, i'm so fucking close."

she flattens her tongue again before pulling away and letting her face rest on your thigh. you go to object but it turns into another moan when she starts to finger-fuck you harder. "yeah? i can feel you squeezing me."

you would've been embarrassed if it didn't feel so good.

"it's like you're trying to trap me inside you." she coos, her free hand still holding your thigh. "it's okay, i got you. let it all out for me."

and then her mouth is on you again, she's taking everything you have to give and begging you for more. all the tenderness in movements has vanished, it's quickly replaced with pure desperation. she's desperate to make you cum, to feel you tremble around her fingers, to taste the glories of your rapture. she needs it, maybe as much as you do. her fingers speed up and her tongue becomes more erratic. just sucking and licking like a woman gone mad until all you can do is slump in her hold and watch as she consumes you.

she's practically growling into your core, it says 'take it, take it, take it' and you comply. you take what she's giving you until it's all you can feel. until all the noises go away, you're whole body clenches, and you cum all over her face.

she licks it up greedily and you whine, trying to push her away.

"be still. this is what you wanted, isn't it?" it's the most forceful she's ever spoken to you but you don't think twice about whimpering in surrender. "you've made such a mess...someone has to clean you up, hm?"

so she does–––––licking you up, moaning into you until you're crying from the overstimulation and she takes pity on you.

"okay, sweet girl." she coos when she sits up and you're still trembling. "you did so good for me, taste so sweet."

you laugh weakly, reaching for her so that she can kiss you. she smiles into your lips. "your turn now."

she laughs, shaking her head. but you can look in her eyes and tell it takes everything in her to deny your request. "you don't gotta worry about me."

you pout tiredly letting your hands meet her waist so that you can unbutton her jeans. she breathes heavily into your mouth, while you tug the denim down her legs––––she helps you, shimming out of her pants. ellie climbs so that she's hovering over your lap. you shoved your hands into her boxers, face softening when she whimpers. your fingers rubbed soft circles over her already soaking clit. "are you sure you don't want me to help you?"

she's looking at you with pleading eyes, practically drooling over you.

"want your fingers, baby." she kisses you again, and you bite her lip. "wanna feel you inside me, please."

you're high off the contrast, how easily she could go from so demanding to begging for you. she kisses you again while you slide one finger inside her aching cunt, then one more. you give her your neck to grip while you make contact with her. you bite your lip at her look of embarrassment because of how easily your fingers slid in.

"holy shit," she moans out, louder than she probably meant to but your fingers are curled inside her just right and it feels so perfect. "fuck, baby, you feel so good."

you hum, picking up the pace and relishing in all the pretty sounds she makes, all the moans and gentle breaths of your name.

"you're so pretty, ellie."

"thank––thank you." she half laughs and half whimpers. "you're pretty too"

you smile up at her, picking up your pace a little. you curl your fingers into her and her lips mold into an 'o' shape as a long moan leaves her agape mouth.

"right there, baby?" you hum, observing the way her legs are already trembling.

"right," she hitches, her vision blacking out for a second. "there."

her mouth meets yours again so that you can taste her ecstasy. the closer she gets the slower her kisses grow until she's moaning against your lips and her legs are shaking through her orgasm. you rode it out for her before taking your fingers out of her trembling cunt. you couldn’t stop yourself from tasting the mess she made, moaning around your fingers as her flavor melted on your tongue. “mmm, tastes so good."

for a while, you just sit there, basking in your leisure and the warmth of her body heat. she reaches over to the coffee table, grabbing her sketchbook and pen.

she leans back so that her back is pressed against the armrest of the couch, gesturing for you to lean into her. you cuddle into her side, watching her silently as she starts sketching. she doesn't speak and you don't either. you simply watch her while she makes something beautiful.

#ꗃ%ellie bellieˑ༄#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams x you #ellie williams smut #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams fluff #ꗃ%jos library⤷✰

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ohcorny · 24 days

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hey corny. so i always see people recommending to outline their story before starting it, but could you talk a little bit more about what that means? what is an outline and how do you structure one? how long are the ones you write, depending on the project? do you focus on plot beats or feelings? how specific do you get? can u recommend any readings for learning more?

up front i don't have any resources for this, only experience. and outlines feel like one of those things where it's like... there are a million ways to do it and the way that works for me might not work for you. i have a friend who writes out all his ideas on index cards and that, for me, is insane. but he's also a better writer than me so who can say what is right or wrong.

anyway an outline is essentially a sketch but for a story. you go through the whole thing, start to finish, and figure out what goes where and what happens when. the idea is that this is the stage where you work out all the big picture stuff and make sure it all fits together, now, and not after you've drawn twenty pages and suddenly go "wait shit that doesn't work" and have to do it over. it is much easier to delete and rewrite a paragraph than to redraw several pages.

doing anything more, ie including dialogue or feelings, depends entirely on how useful that information is to you at that point in the process and whether the purpose of the outline is for your own guidance, or so somebody else can tell what you're trying to achieve.

this got really long with multiple examples

here is an excerpt from the original outline i used to pitch Hunger's Bite to publishers. this one had to be polished to a professional standard, because somebody else was going to read it and decide whether they wanted to give me thousands of dollars to tell this story. (also several of the details are no longer accurate. for instance it now takes place 9 years earlier lmao)

this paragraph represents the first eight pages of the book. the final book is 264 pages long, and the outline was 12 pages of paragraphs as dense as this one.

it establishes where we are, who's there, and what they're doing. i describe their conversation, but i don't commit to the dialogue. i will occasionally include snippets of literal dialogue, but usually only if it's Important Dialogue, or i just don't want to forget a good idea i had while outlining. it's not expected at this step.

an outline written as part of a pitch to a publisher should tell the whole story, with all the important details, and leave nothing ambiguous. they need to know the tone, shape, and the arcs. no secrets! all the spoilers. outlines for yourself should do this too, but outlines for others need to be as clear about your vision as possible. again, an outline like this exists for the purpose of getting you paid thousands of dollars. you should write it like that.

in comparison, here's an excerpt from the outline i wrote for revisions to my WIP prose novel, so i could show it to my agent (who already read the draft) to be like "do these changes sound good?" i'm not selling it to anyone yet, just making a guide so i can have a conversation about it. so it doesn't need to be neat, it just needs to be functional and clear. the first chapter was entirely new stuff. the second bit was just writing down what was already in the chapter that existed.

i have historically been very bad at outlining things when i don't think i "need" to, and only wrote this one after having written like 60k words of the book without any overall plan. i gave what i had to my agent for feedback and then sat down and figured out how i could apply it. it's made the whole revisions process significantly less daunting. now i have a checklist for things i need to do! this one was a paragraph or two for each chapter, with the ones that needed a lot of rewriting given a bit more detail.

lastly, here's a bit of the outline for the first roger crenshaw book. i was the only person who had to see this, and since the story was planned to be very short i didn't have to worry about a whole lot. as long as i knew what was supposed to go where, it would work. honestly it's not a whole lot different from the previous example.

this one was like five paragraphs and it did the job, and this story was like 15k words. you only need as much or as little as will actually help you on the page.

basically if you take nothing else from this, it's that there are multiple ways to write an outline, that it does not need to be perfect if you're doing it for yourself, and that it only needs what you think is important (unless it is for other people. then it should have everything). and also it's a good idea to do it earlier in the project than after you've written 60k words or drawn--jesus christ i got up to 12 chapters in never satisfied? it's amazing i didn't quit sooner

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melrodrigo · 10 months

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Tardy, part 7

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: You guys devise a plan to stop Ghostface once and for all, but some shocking news stops you in your tracks.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Mentions of violence, fluff, a little angst, my attempt at humor

A/N: Never mind y’all I just got motivation out of no where last night and apparently I can still write! This one’s kinda short…but I hope u like <3

You don't get to planning the demise of a certain wimpy pea faced masked killer as fast as you'd like.

You'd expected Sam to call the rest of the group and discuss details immediately; but that hasn't happened yet.

It's really starting to annoy you, but you can't even move far enough to grab your phone without help; so you relent and figure you'll kill the fucker when you can actually stand.

The only bright side, it seems; is Tara. She hasn't left your side for even a minute during the whole debacle.

She's gotten more comfortable, you can tell. Even gotten so brave as to come sit on the armchair beside yours.

Your anger has simmered down into a calm sea of peace; and you're starting to feel a bit bad for the indifferent way you've been treating her.

It's impossible to say you don't still care for Tara, in fact; you care a lot more than you probably should. The feeling is so overwhelming you can sense it's tendrils wrapping around you; threatening to engulf you whole.

Stupid, stupid feelings.

You tilt your head and look at her now, wonder if she feels the same.

Almost like she can feel your gaze, she turns and cranes her neck at you.

"Do you need anything?" She asks, flipping over the page of the book she was currently reading.

You don't trust your voice to come out as anything but a strangled whimper, so you nod.

She sits up immediately, practically jumping off the piece of furniture.

"Oh thank god! This book is so boring." She huffs, eyes brightening up as she gets closer.

She walks up to you and folds your shirt up, enough to show your wound. She examines it slowly, lips pursed.

"You know...maybe we should take you to a hospital? It doesn't really look any better." She states, staring intently.

You suddenly feel small underneath her intense gaze; and you wiggle a bit.

You weren't exactly at your best, since you'd been practically glued to the couch for days; apart from the occasional shower and a brush of the teeth.

"Tara?" You rasp, making her look at you; worry in her eyes.

"Yeah? You okay?"

You shake your head no, motion for her to come over. She looks downright stressed.

"Why? What's wrong?" She asks, reaching out to touch your face but stopping short, hesitance clear in her expression.

You muster the strength to bring your arm up to grab her hand, lay it down on your chest; intertwined.

"I'm sorry for being such a dick lately." You say, breathe in heavily.

"It was uncool of me. And I was wondering if you...would maybe want to be my girlfriend again?" It comes out as a soft whisper, and you watch as Tara's face changes from worried to unreadable.

Oh god.

"I mean- uh it's just that I think we might be better off as like girlfriends and I didn't really mean what I said before, I was mad you know? But it’s totally fine if you don’t-" She cuts you off with a kiss to your lips, soft and tender.

You melt into it immediately. Her hands fly to cup your cheeks, and yours press against her neck; pulling her closer.

You guys stay like that for a bit until Tara pulls away, breathlessly.

"I'm sorry too. I was being a bitch, and I should've listened to you. I promise I'll be better this time." She says, chewing on her bottom lip.

You pull her down, taking her by surprise and making her stumble and land right on you.

You let out a groan at the contact and peer down at your wound.

She retracts immediately, mumbling a million sorry's.

"It's okay Tar, come on. Come here." You wave with your hands, let her rest her head on your chest.

She doesn't press herself into you in fears that it'll hurt you, and it's the most straining and uncomfortable position she's ever been in; but she doesn't pull away.

"This is like doing a plank." She says, eyes sparkling with amusement.

You shake your head and smirk. Tilt her face up to yours again and kiss her.

"Shut up."

And she does.

The sound of your phone ringing is what wakes both you and Tara up. She stirs, then immediately tightens up; like she has a flight or fight response to the sound of it.

Oh wait, she does. You realize dumbly.

"It's okay. Everything's fine, could you just grab me the phone sweetheart?" You murmur, rubbing the top of her head in small circles.

She wearily gets up on her knees and reaches for the phone from the couch. It's too far; and she doesn't want to leave your body for at least 3-5 more business days.

"Woah!" She squeaks, loosing her balance and falling with a loud smack onto the rug.

You can't control the giggle that stumbles from your lips; almost on reflex. You quickly realize your error and shut up.

It's too late; because Tara turns to you, quirking an eyebrow. Then she lets out a giggle too, smiling so wide you can see her dimples.

It's a small moment, but it means everything.

It almost feels like the past few days have never happened and Tara's still freshly your girlfriend. Floating in nothing but love-filled teasing bliss.

She opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by your phone ringing again.

"Jesus christ they won't stop calling." Tara says, slightly annoyed at the intrusion on your moment.

She hands it over to you without looking at the contact, and you scrunch your eyebrows at the unknown number.

"Hello?" You muse as you bring your phone to your ear, still staring at Tara with a playful smirk.

It falls immediately when you hear the distorted deep voice.

"Hello YN."

Your breath hitches, but you don't want to alarm Tara; so you smile at her reassuringly.

"Hey bro, what up?" You say, with all the nonchalance of talking to a close friend.

"Bro? What the hell are you talking abou-" Ghostface starts, but you cut him off immediately.

"Oh yeah yeah, I'm still in uni. I hope you're not getting into any trouble like you always do?" You continue; pursing your lips.

Maybe you'll just pretend for the rest of the conversation and not tell Tara.

"Oh Yn, you don't even know what kind of trouble I'm about to get you into." He says, tone teasing and taunting.

Your chest tightens up a bit. What does he have on you? He's bluffing, he has to be…right?

"That is so fun, but I kinda have to get back to my amazing girlfriend now; you don't mind if I hang up do you?" You smile, eyes flitting up and down Tara's small frame.

She's sitting, quite adorably, on the floor. Looking up at you with curious but shining eyes.

"Don't you dare hang up or I'm going to split you from groin to ster-" You pull the phone from your ear and press the red button.

"Well that was a little rude." She tuts, scooting closer.

You chuckle.

"Can I help it that my girlfriend is the best-est person in the world and I wanna spend every minute with her?" You ask, nudging her nose with yours.

"Best-est, huh?" She smirks, leaning in impossibly closer.

You're about to lean down and kiss Tara but it twists your wound the wrong way and you hiss.

She brings her hand up to your face and caresses the skin of your cheek.

"You okay?" She asks, brows furrowed.

You're not, and you think it might even be getting worse like she suspected; but you don't tell Tara. Instead you nod your head and give her a tight lipped smile.

She grins, and closes the distance between the two of you. She gets up off the floor and climbs on top of you so you don't have to strain your neck. She does all of this with your lips connected, and you silently marvel at her skill.

"I know you guys just got back together, but can you stop eating each other's faces right now?" Sam interrupts, quite rudely you might add.

Tara pulls away reluctantly and wipes at her mouth. She looks flushed.

"We weren't even doing anything."She mumbles underneath her breath.

"Let them be Sam, I don't think I can take another day of Tara whining about how she's not with YN anymore." Mindy says, waltzing into the room after Sam.

You cock an eyebrow at Tara, but she avoids your eye; blush creeping up her neck.

"Nice job, by the way T." Mindy adds, clicking her tongue and shooting a finger gun at the girl.

You notice the rest of the group behind them, Chad, Ethan, Anika, and some other strange man at the back.

He must see your lingering stare on him because he's moving forward and offering a hand to you.

"Danny." He rasps, mouth turned in a crooked smile.

Okay, kind of hot. You think.

"I'm Sam's..." He trails off, sending a questioning look at the older Carpenter sister.

"Danny's my boyfriend." Sam answers, and out the corner of your eye you see Danny smile a little wider.

That's cute.

"Nice to meet you Danny." You say, shaking his hand eagerly.

"So, we're all here because we need to devise a plan. To catch ghostface, once and for all." Sam says, walking to the front of the living room.

"And what exactly is your plan?" Tara asks, moving beside you and taking your hand in hers.

You notice Sam biting the inside of her cheek as she thinks.

"I'm not sure yet, that's why I all asked you here." She says.

There's a moment of silence as anyone thinks of something to say. You try to think back to your interactions with him.

"We could make a suspect list? I'm sure Mindy has a lot of theories on her mind." You suggest, glancing over at the twin.

"Yes! Thank you for bringing that up YN. Sam, move it's my time to shine." She walks up to Sam, gently nudging the Carpenter to sit on the couch.

"So we all know Ghostface has some sort of beef with all of us, but from the attacks we can assume he hates Tara and YN the most." She starts, hands on her hips.

"We know Ghostface isn't really that strong. Either that or YN is just one hell of a fighter." Mindy says, gesturing to you.

You smile shyly at the heads that turn toward you.

"Can I add something? Back on the balcony, where I got attacked; Ghostface seemed kind of...small." You say, pursing your lips in deep remembrance.

"Like, way shorter than the one that attacked me and Tara on that roof. So I think there might be two." You finish.

Mindy nods, like she was already expecting you to say this.

"It's always been two killers, except for Roman Bridger; kudos to him for ambition."

Chad raises his hand, waiting for Mindy's approval before he speaks. She nods toward him.

"Could we assume the first ghostface was a guy? Because we all saw him, and he looked pretty damn big."

You shake your head in agreement, trying to think back on the night up on the roof. It's sort of hard because all you can remember is Tara kissing you for the first time.

Even after what had happened, you still considered that to be one of the best nights of your life.

What a simp.

"Now! Let's move on to our suspects..." Mindy says faintly, but you're not really focused now. You'd rather daydream about the girl sitting beside you.

The group ends up picking your apartment as the spot for Ghostface's Demise. You'd actually been the one to suggest it yourself, it's relatively big; and didn't have one too many hiding places for him to surprise y'all in.

Tara moves to sit on your lap as you continue to plan. Papers are strewn everywhere, multiple empty coffee cups on the table. You've drawn out a map of the layout, and Sam's made it her personal mission to storyboard the whole attack.

Despite the reason for for your gathering, you can't help but smile a little at everyone huddled together. They look like a real family.

Quiet laughs are occasionally let out, teasing and poking fun about how Ghostface is gonna attack. You sort of enjoy it.

The doorbell rings and catches only yours and Tara's attention. The rest of them are still in heated discussion about whether Ghostface or Voldemort would win in a battle.

It's Voldemort, obviously.

"I'll go get it." Tara whispers, planting a firm peck to your lips and standing up. You nod, let her untangle herself from you.

You sit a bit longer until you start getting antsy. It's been five minutes since Tara went and you’re getting a tad worried.

Has she been kidnapped by Ghostface or something?

She steps into the room now, and you smile at her; breathe out in relief.

You see a tiny envelope in her hands. It's ripped; and she's reading the inside.

"Any mail for me honey?" You ask teasingly, pushing yourself up on the couch slightly.

You don't notice the serious expression on her face till she tilts it up, eyes dark.

She doesn't answer as she strides to you, shoving the paper in your hands; arms crossed. She looks hurt.

"Care to explain?"

You frown, look down at the piece of crumpled paper. It's a DNA test.

At the top of the page it says:

DNA REPORT TEST

(For Personal Knowledge Only)

There's two boxes that fill up the whole paper. You stare at it, mouth agape.

It says:

CHILD (YN)

Alleged Father (Stu Macher)

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #tardy #scream vi #wednesday addams x reader

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sokkigarden · 8 months

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dancing with our hands tied (part iv)

jamie tartt x female reader // nsfw 18+ // fwb

masterlist // read on ao3

summary: an emotional spiral sends you to jamie's doorstep… again

word count: 3k

this chapter took it OUT of me but i actually think this might be my fav chapter so far?? eeeee excited to share w you guys :) thanks to @hopefulromances for challenging me to write and trade feedback last night! sometimes u just need a lil extra motivation 😩🫶

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“Hey, you’re friends with Jamie, right?”

You looked up from where you were sitting at your desk to find Zach in the doorway. You were startled by his appearance.

After getting drinks last week, you’d gone back to his place and fell into bed. He was fun and flirty and you both had a good time, but once it was late, he asked if you needed a ride home. You’d left after calling a ride, trying not to overthink it. It was just the beginning after all.

But it had been a week since then. Zach had been keeping his distance at work and hadn’t been responding to your texts that much. You figured he was busy with the new job, so you kept yourself busy as well. But that didn’t resolve the sinking feeling in your gut.

And now Zach was standing in front of you. Asking about Jamie Tartt of all things.

“Huh?” You knew you sounded dumb but you weren’t sure why Zach was asking if you were friends with Jamie.

“Did I do something to upset him?”

“What?” you sputtered. “Um, I don’t think so.”

Despite your confusion, you had also noticed Jamie’s coldness toward the new nutritionist. Richmond had a big facility and a lot of people employed, but after Ted Lasso brought his camaraderie and positivity to the entire club, it was easy to see when someone was being off-putting.

Since last week, you hadn’t spoken to Jamie outside of your scheduled physio treatments. You weren’t typically alone during your appointments, and it was always after his ludicrous amount of training which left him tired, so you hadn’t had the chance to talk to him much.

“Maybe you’re reading too much into things?” you suggested. “He’s always been kinda rocky– you’ve heard the stories.”

You didn’t mention that those stories were from more than two years ago. You didn’t mention that he had been much better in recent months.

“Maybe….” Zach replied, scratching the back of his head.

You clearly didn’t have the answer he wanted, and the room fell into silence. You looked back at the work you had open on your computer screen, before taking a deep breath and being brave.

“Hey, so I had a fun time last week,” you started with a smile. “Would you, maybe, want to go out again?”

Zach suddenly looked like he wanted to be anywhere but in the treatment room with you. You tried not to let the feeling in your gut sink even further, but you could feel the smile falling off your face.

“Oh, um, I’m gonna be busy for the next few weeks, so….” he trailed off.

You pressed your lips into a firm line, nodding once. You didn’t need to hear anything else; he was clearly not interested in pursuing you further.

The insecurities that had lingered for a week resurfaced from the corners of your mind. You’d gotten your hopes up again, and he clearly wasn’t on the same page. It was fine. You were getting the brush off. Nothing you hadn’t experienced before.

You just wished you’d known this wasn’t going to be anything when you went into it. It had taken time, with each heartbreak, but you thought you had built up walls to prevent yourself from getting hurt again.

“Okay, yeah,” you said, “Don’t worry about it.”

Zach gave you a smile that looked more like a grimace before leaving you alone.

How had everything gone to such shit?

There’s a reason you’d made it clear with Jamie that your relationship was just sex. If it was explicitly just sex, then you wouldn’t let yourself form an emotional attachment. No point in letting your brain drift into romantic feelings. It never worked out anyways.

Thinking of Jamie brought you back to the first thing Zach said. Was there a reason Jamie was being a dick to him? You hadn’t seen them interact much other than at the bar last week. While you had wanted to bite Jamie’s head off at first, by the time you had a chance to say something, he had left. There was a lot left unsaid.

And if here was anything that would get your mind off things, it would be bickering with Jamie.

You checked your watch, realizing most of the players were gone by this time of evening. You finished up the report you were working on. It was probably time for you to head home too.

And maybe you’d pay Jamie a visit on the way home, too.

༻✧✧✧༺

Not even twenty minutes later, you were knocking on Jamie’s door unannounced. You hadn’t been there since last week, but there were no cars except his parked outside, so you assumed he was the only one home.

When he opened the door, he seemed surprised to see you, his face going through about half a dozen different expressions before settling on raising his eyebrow in question.

“Stop being a dick to Zach,” you said in lieu of greeting, walking into his home.

Jamie shut the door and pursed his lips. He clearly hadn’t expected to be instantly berated, but it was easier to act mad at Jamie than deal with being upset with yourself.

“Aren’t I a dick to everyone?” he asked.

“No, you aren’t,” you rolled your eyes, and said in a smaller voice, “Not anymore.”

You crossed your arms. “But you are acting like an asshole to Zach. Everyone sees it.”

Jamie scoffed, shaking his head.

“Sorry,” he said, with a defeated tone, “You can tell your boyfriend I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Now it was your turn to sound defeated, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Jamie’s face perked up at that.

“Oh yeah? Thought you two were gettin’ cozy. Gettin’ drinks at Bones and Honey.”

If it was anyone else, you’d think he sounded jealous, but there was no reason for Jamie to be jealous over you. He was just poking your open wound at this point.

You huffed out a breath of air, letting your arms fall to their sides.

“He brushed me off,” you said, “If we didn’t work together, he probably would’ve ghosted me by now.”

All the frustration from the past few hours, the past few days, the past week, felt like it was bubbling to the surface. It wasn’t even like this was a new thing. You were just tired of the same thing always happening. Even when you tried to protect yourself, you still ended up getting hurt.

You were so focused on blinking rapidly to dispel the tears in your eyes that you didn’t notice Jamie wrapping you in a tight hug. You stood frozen for a moment, before wrapping your arms around his torso and nuzzling your face into his shoulder.

The hug was so tight and warm and surprising, but it made you feel the best you’d felt in weeks, months. You didn’t even realize you were fully crying until you moved slightly and felt the wet patch of fabric on his shoulder.

You pulled away a bit and tried taking some deep breaths, while Jamie brushed his fingers through your hair. As soon as he whispered your name, you pulled back further, still enveloped in his arms.

“Sorry, sorry, I know this isn’t what we normally do,” you said. Your relationship consisted of arguments and sex, not tears and warm hugs.

He shook his head, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “What’s wrong?”

The tender tone, the soft look in his eyes, the delicate physical contact, made you start crying all over again. He gently led the two of you over to the couch, sitting down with you in his lap.

“I just–” you sniffled, and it all came spilling out. “I just don't know what I'm doing ever. Everything I do seems wrong. I try to go after the things I want and it's never enough. I give too much, and yet not enough, and- and it's all shit.”

Jamie’s brows furrowed together as you stared at his face. You focused on the line of his jaw and the grooves of his nose instead of his eyes. You didn’t want to meet his eyes. His hand gently grasped your chin to direct your gaze.

“You’re okay,” he murmured, as you held eye contact. “Things are hard, but they’ve always been hard, and you’ve made it through. You deserve good things. You’ll get them. You have them.”

Those words were tender and sweet and all you wanted to hear, but a part of you refused to let yourself believe them.

“Yeah, okay,” you rolled your eyes lightly. “I guess.”

He let out a huff of frustration, before rearranging you to straddle his thighs. His arms squeezed your shoulders, but not in a domineering way; it felt soft, comforting.

His hands were warm as they ran across your skin to your cheeks, holding your face to keep your eyes connected. He wiped the tears from your cheeks. His face held a hundred emotions and you weren’t sure what to make of any of it.

“You have me,” he said.

You took a sharp intake of breath at his words. The words burned into your mind.

It was true. You did have Jamie. And he had you. In some sort of way. And for now, it would be enough.

He placed a soft kiss to your forehead, and then to both of your cheeks, lingering so close you could feel his exhales and swore you could hear your heartbeats in the space between.

Then, he seized your mouth in a kiss, and it was like no other kiss you’d shared with him. While others were passionate and full of angry emotions, this was full of something raw, something untethered to your pre-existing idea of Jamie.

As you explored each other's mouths, you found yourself grinding against his lap, letting a moan out as you felt overcome with emotion. His hands ran through your hair, and you flexed your fingers under the fabric of his shirt, feeling the expanse of warm skin on his stomach.

You tugged his shirt over his head, which broke the kiss, but you took the moment to take a breath. He kissed your cheek, your jaw, your neck, as he moved to remove your shirt as well.

“Fuck, angel,” he said, and it felt like you were seeing each other for the first time.

It didn’t take long to remove more clothes, explore more of each other, before you finally sat down, feeling his dick slide into you.

For a brief minute, you were frozen, breathing in each other’s air, staring at each other, taking in the moment. Then, he’s rocking into you and you’re meeting his thrusts, but it's slow, it's choppy in a heavenly way that you didn’t realize could exist between the two of you.

“This feel good, yeah?” he asked, and you replied with a whimper of an affirmation. “Tell me this dick makes you feel good.”

“It does,” you managed to say, “You make me feel…”

He moved his hips in a way that made you see stars, leaving the last of your sentence unfinished. You scraped your nails through his hair, hearing something like a growl at the back of his throat. The sound spurred you on, rocking your hips with more determination.

“That’s it, baby, that’s a good girl,” he panted, reaching to connect your lips once more.

You wanted to swallow him whole, wanted this moment to never end. His words were hot, but also flooded you with a different kind of warmth. You wondered if he even knew what he was saying.

He tore his lips away after a moment and while you tried to gasp for breath, his next words made you nearly come on the spot.

“My good girl,” he whispered across your ear, before gripping your hips and focusing on where the two of you were connected.

The possessiveness in his voice tracked fire through your veins.

You were close. You had to be. Despite how much you wanted to make this last forever, the heightened emotions were making things too much. You were feeling everything so intensely.

He knew you were close, as he said, “Hey, look at me.”

You caught his eyes, watching each other’s faces as you finally came. Your jaw hung open, gripping his shoulders. You clenched around him as you rode out your high, and he came soon after.

You sat there for a few moments, listening to your breathing and heartbeats mixing together.

His hands drifted across your back in lazy motions as you nuzzled your cheek into the crook between his shoulder and neck. Jamie’s heartbeat was in his throat, his pulse racing. You could barely process everything you were feeling. What must he be feeling?

You had definitely calmed down after your spiral earlier this evening. Being with Jamie seemed to make everything else melt away.

He readjusted you on his lap and pulled up his underwear. He grabbed his shirt from earlier and slipped it over your head. He cleared his throat, but didn’t fully pull away from you.

“I know you usually leave but,” he picked you up as he stood from the couch, “Not lettin’ you go home and spiral more. You’re staying tonight. Come on.”

He led you upstairs to his room, grabbing some new clothes from the dresser before guiding you into the bathroom.

You didn’t do anything as you watched him turn on the shower and wait until the temperature was hot. It had been a while since you’d been in a shower with someone else, but you had a feeling this wasn’t going to be like those times.

As soon as the shower was a good temperature, he stepped in, beckoning you to join him. He was offering without forcing you. You fought the smile creeping onto your face at his gentle expression.

He guided you under the stream of water, combing his hands through your hair and lathering it with shampoo. The entire bathroom filled with the familiar smell of his hair products, and you felt a sense of satisfaction at knowing your own hair would smell like his soon.

You took turns washing each other, nearly silent the entire time. It was an intimate act, and you found yourself clinging to Jamie maybe even more than earlier.

You could feel the trails of tears across your cheeks from earlier wash away, but you could now barely remember why you’d been crying. Over some boy at work? You were all wrapped up in Jamie in the present moment.

But this is what you’d been afraid of all along. This thing with Jamie was no longer just sex to you. And you’d known from the beginning, that if you let yourself fall for Jamie, it was over. He would ruin everyone else for you.

What, with his silly outfits, and funny yet frustrating conversations, and the way he seemed to know your body even better than you did.

You doubted this was anything else for him, you didn’t fit the profile of people he dated, you told yourself not to get your hopes up. You had shoved those feelings in a drawer at the back of your mind and hoped if you told yourself it was just sex, you wouldn’t fall for him.

But somewhere between the arguments and the sex, you held real conversations with him, confided in him, looked forward to seeing him each day.

Maybe it was already too late. The thought had your eyes welling up with more tears, but luckily you were facing the shower wall, as he rinsed the conditioner out of your hair.

By the time the both of you were done, the tears had subsided, and you turned around to give him a watery smile.

When you stepped out of the shower, Jamie wrapped you in a fluffy towel and your heart squeezed at the domesticity of it all.

“Better?” he asked.

You nodded. You were feeling a lot better. Even if you were finally acknowledging the romantic feelings wedged deep inside of you. Even if those romantic feelings ended up being your downfall.

He grabbed the clothes he’d brought into the bathroom and divided them between you both. Two pairs of sweat shorts and two t-shirts. You knew you were going to drown in the fabric before you even put them on. You were proven right as he slid the shorts up your legs and tied off the drawstring to keep them up. You both chuckled at the sight.

After brushing your teeth, stealing some of Jamie’s skincare, and drying your hair, you didn’t have any objections as you both got into bed. He pulled you halfway across the mattress, to wrap his arms around you in the middle of the bed.

“I’ve got training with Roy at four a.m., but I’ll be back before you wake up. Usually get back for breakfast around seven.” Jamie mumbled as he turned off the bedside lamp and wrapped his arms around you.

“Four in the morning?” you asked, “What are you going to do, bury a body?”

He chuckled, “Wouldn’t put it past Grandad, but no, we usually just go for a run.”

You shook your head at the absurdity. Even though you worked at the football facility, it was easy to forget that Jamie was a professional athlete when it was just the two of you, tucked away beneath his sheets.

As you felt yourself getting sleepy, you traced the tattoos across Jamie’s forearm in the faint light, feeling his breathing deepen as he drifted off to sleep. The lull of his exhales across your earlobe soon brought sleep to you as well.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt smut #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x ofc #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #my works #dwoht fic

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foolishlovers · 3 months

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hiii!!! do u have any recs for long AUs??? thank you! :]

of course, i love long good omens AUs, here are some of my favourites:

[you can request more fic recs here.]

Golden Handcuffs by seekwill (E, 70k) Far from any city, near the Scottish coast, Tadfield College has a celebrated history, an unrivaled academic reputation, and two departments at war. When the Biology and English departments are forced to share a building, Senior Lecturer and botanist Anthony Crowley finds himself drawn into the orbit of the polite but strange English professor, Dr. Aziraphale Fell. As the new term begins, two academics navigate the politics of both their offices and academia, and try to solve the puzzle of one another.

Fifty-Two Blue by bendycello (M, 84k) It would be a gross understatement to say that Crowley simply didn't like Aziraphale. He was posh and stuffy and arrogant, and Crowley couldn't figure out why everyone else in the program liked him so much. It hardly mattered; they were competitors, and Crowley didn't need to make friends to become a surgeon. It takes several unleasant encounters, the excessive use of house plants as a coping mechanism, and getting stuck in an elevator for Crowley to start reconsidering his priorities. Or… Crowley and Aziraphale are surgical interns with competitive streaks a mile wide each, and they really do not like each other at all. Until they do.

Waking Up Slow by the_moonmoth (E, 87k) “Then you’ll just have to come back with me," Aziraphale said. “You what?” “You’ll have to come and isolate with me, at my cottage.” The thing about messing with people, Crowley thought, was that sometimes, they genuinely surprised you. After both being exposed to coronavirus, total strangers Crowley and Aziraphale are forced to wait out their isolation together. A tale of soft winter romance by the sea.

Slow Show by mia_ugly (E, 95k) In which temptations are accomplished, grand romantic gestures are made, and two ineffable co-stars only take four seasons of an award-winning television program to realize they’re on their own side (at last, at last.)

Car Trouble by summerofspock (E, 102k) Aziraphale's car breaks down so he takes it to the first mechanic he can find. From there, his mundane life changes drastically as he finds himself befriending the man fixing his car.

on the same page by Chekhov (E, 117k) Aziraphale Z. Fell is a rising star of the spiritual literary genre - the next Eat Pray Love guy - and his version of Chicken Soup For the Christian Soul is flying off the shelves. It's not that he's not grateful, but it's one thing to enjoy a career in writing and another completely to be pigeonholed into a specific genre, so much so that you are almost forbidden from writing anything else. So yes, maybe he has a bit of a secret. An outlet for his less… appropriate urges. And yes, if his typical readership got word of the sort of paragraphs he could put out on a particularly inspired night, they might suffer some form of heart attack typical for their age. But all of that is well hidden, and there is absolutely no way anyone would ever find out about his Arrangement with A.J. Crowley - the most debaucherous romantic fiction author of the decade. That is… until they have to pretend to be married to each other.

Married at First Sight by Aracloptia (T, 146k) “Well, that was a thing,” Crowley said once they were out of earshot. Without talking about it, they were both heading down the field, towards the lake where the photographer (and likely a few more people from the TV crew) was waiting. “That was a wedding,” Aziraphale replied, surprised at his own annoyance that somebody called a wedding a ‘thing’. “Yeah, obviously, didn’t miss that part,” Crowley said with a shrug, and waved abruptly in Aziraphale’s general direction. “Neither did you, from the looks of it, since you’re dressed like a wedding bride and everything.” “Excuse me, I am a—“ Aziraphale stopped himself, and started over. In which Aziraphale ends up marrying a rude stranger who wears sunglasses.

Old Vines by sevdrag (E, 189k) A.Z. Fell, one of the most respected names in wine and food blogging, has been sent on assignment with his assistant Warlock Dowling to spend six months in California Wine Country. Under direction (by his boss, Gabriel) to use this experience to double his blog followers and write a novel, Aziraphale is both excited and anxious about the opportunity. Anthony J. Crowley is the owner and viticulturalist of Ecdyses, a winery that unexpectedly fell into his lap eleven years ago when he hit rock bottom. He may be in debt, yeah, but he’s paying off his loans — and despite pressure from his lenders and their team of inspectors, Crowley has found a kind of contentment tending his little corner of terroir and producing extraordinary wine. Crowley’s old vines are the heart of his vineyard, and he’s never let anyone in. Crowley finds Aziraphale intriguing; Aziraphale finds Crowley enthralling. Turns out a famous wine expert and an experienced viticulturalist can still learn things from each other. The summer of 2019 unfolds.

What We Make of It (Shotgun Wedding) by charlottemadison (E, 213k) The important thing, Crowley tells himself -- the most important thing -- is Adam, his brilliant, creative, empathetic nephew. Being fourteen's hard enough; the kid didn't ask to deal with the weight of the world on top of it. And if taking care of Adam means Crowley has to tough it out at a job he can’t stand, so be it. And if Crowley's job means that Adam’s charming English teacher is NOT a romantic possibility, well, that's just how things go. But the occasional drink with Aziraphale proves hard to resist. They frequent the same pub, so who can object to them saying hello? Briefly sharing a table? Perhaps a little conversation? The painful knowledge that it can’t be anything more -- not without somebody getting fired or sued or both -- well, that can't be helped. Until Crowley stumbles onto a terribly reckless idea…

#you've come to the right place #i love nothing more than immersing myself in a really long good omens fic shshhs #if anyone has some recs for me PLS go ahead and send them!!#good omens #good omens human au #good omens fanfic #good omens fic #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow #aziracrow fic #good omens fic rec #foolish recs #go fic masterpost

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yandere-sins · 11 months

Text

Before reading: R18+, Mature Content Warning, Violence/Gore Warning, Yandere Warning

Oh, my, look what the wave swept in!

Yet another misplaced human in these wondrous waters, a… poor unfortunate soul, as my sister would say. It hasn’t been that long since another tribe—who was it? The sharks?—had been… blessed with an unusual mate. And now there’s you! How exciting! The orcas are a little temperamental, but I’m sure they’ll treat you lovingly–

Oh… so you want to leave? Already?

Ambitious, are we? Escape the creatures and get back to land. Well, don’t you look determined? Think you can handle these three strong orcas all by yourself? I’d love to see it. I delight in everything happening around these depths of the ocean, as they are so dark and deep, with barely anything transpiring all day. But as of late, love, freedom, and misery swim hand in hand down here. Intelligence and instincts fight battles that are beyond your little human comprehension. I could not be more pleased with the beautiful bonds that are being woven under the sea.

But I will cheer you on, I promise! I might even have some tips for you, seeing how I’ve been around these sandy lands and great reefs longer than you have!

I don’t think you can trust anyone besides me, really, but you’ll need an ally if you want to get back home. But be careful choosing who you trust. Sometimes you have to take drastic actions to get out of a situation, but there are also times when you need to sit back, stay calm, and let someone else handle it for you. And as badly as I know you want to get out… don’t do anything rash.

These orcas have a fickle disposition, and you wouldn’t want them to decide you’re no fun or tastier than they initially thought. In fact, you don’t want them to think about you at all! Otherwise —ey w—t l— —u ——!

You wake up before the voice can finish. Open your eyes?

Welcome, welcome to Mermay ( & Merjune) 2023!

I think most of you have already understood what will happen, but I thought I'd give a small heads-up about the how, so we're all on the same page:

This will be an interactive story, which means you guys will have to work together to figure out how to continue onwards by choosing the right poll option. Every chapter comes with a decision at the end, and three possible choices. But only one will continue the story while the other two lead to 'Bad Ends' aka not continue the story. Your goal is to escape the three orcas because they won't always like your decision, unfortunately.

I can already tell you that if the majority votes for a Bad End, you'll be able to choose again at the end of it, hopefully picking the right option this time. The story will not stop just because the right option wasn't picked. But who knows? Maybe choosing wrong is actually the better option sometimes (;

To clarify, there are 5 main chapters (the right choices) in total, 10 possible Bad Ends and 1 True End. This is not a video game so there are no secret routes. Nothing will change if you choose certain options after another. Your goal ultimately is to finish this story. But... some interactions and information may or may not be hidden in Bad Ends that could be enjoyable to you as well. (After finishing the main story I'll let you guys pick some other options you would have liked to see if you're interested in that ^-^)

One more exciting thing! I was able to commission a good friend of mine to actually do references for the orcas! We're still working on them but I hope you guys will enjoy some visuals of the new bois ♥

And for good measure: Please read the warnings on the individual posts, as some of the stories contain disturbing content not suited for everyone. Don't read what you don't like.

Thank you for participating and I hope you guys will be able to enjoy the story as much as I do ♥ (If you have questions, please ask away any time! ♥)

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ratllu · 2 years

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ADHD TIP!!!!!! hw :,)

1. make timelapses on your phone of u doing your work. this helps so much i cant even BEGIN to explain. it feels like im a little youtube with my life together, and i love the idea/aesthetic of people having video diaries so. it also helps me stay on task because ik that id hate to rewatch my videos and see that i was super unproductive, so it’s almost like performance anxiety but in a good way and it’s satisfying to see !! if u want i will post some of them

2. SEPERATE YOUR BROWSERS! i use opera for my fun stuff (it’s basically just google marketed “for gamers” and it kinda slaps ngl) and ive got a rule that when im on chrome, im not allowed to use any of my time-sucking things (pinterest, tumblr, quora).’

3. when writing an essay, change the font and line spacing consistently. helps my brain by adding variety and avoiding the thing where u gotta reread the sentence 8 times only to forget it and read it again only to forget it and rea

4. when you have a writing assignment (can u tell im doing my english final rn) START IT ON PAPER. u gotta sit down with your notebook and the intent to write the draft of the essay on paper. ive found that pretty quickly, my hyperfocus will kick in and my brain will catch the drift of what we’re doing, which ends up prompting me to switch over to my computer. ive got so many pages in my book rn that are just the first paragraph of a paper that end abruptly as i get into the flow of things

5. when typing, wear fingerless gloves. it helps man, trust me. it feels like all of my typing and writing energy is stored in my hands and the fingerless gloves kinda contain that energy. does that make sense. do you guys get that. i feel like u get it

6. templates. something i struggle with is not really knowing how or where to start things, which templates have seemed to help with. for example if im writing a biography about someone, ill google biography templates and there will be an outline that works as the perfect guide. this tip is pretty universal and can benefit everyone, but it took me a while to figure out pls. outline = good

7. work in the dark/at night- though im sure a lot of us do this regardless, working in a situation that imitates/is nighttime is genuinely helpful for us. for me, working at night feels like a choice that i made on my own and without instruction from superiors, which is motivating for some reason. people with adhd (i think this might apply to other forms of nuerodiversity but im only certain about adhd) have circadian rhythms that naturally skew later, so working later instead of in the daytime might be the most productive time for u.

also, i get that it’s good to avoid doing work in bed because associating a place of comfort with an activity of strain is probably Not the best, but sometimes, working in my bed is just what works best for me. it’s important to know yourself and trust what you need!!

#adhd #nuerodivergent #nuerodiversity #adhd hacks #productivity #studyblr #autism #self help #advice #writing #homework #online school #redtips

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hello-vampire-kitty · 1 year

Text

Servamp chapter 128 translation "ashes to ashes"

READ ON MANGADEX

NOTES

Oh my God...This chapter...more like, one particular page. I spent days trying to figure out the meaning and I still probably don't understand. Maybe I'll talk about it on the stream for chapter 130 because it might not make sense in writing...

Okay, here are some notes because there were words that had furigana and some of them I couldn't write on the pages.

In this panel the furigana for 思い出全部 (all 'the' memories) is 名前すら (not even names), so based on the first reading, the line can also be translated as "If/When someone dies, not all memories disappear".

Page 29

This one...This is the one I had so much trouble with. Do I understand the lines from the first panel? Probably not. I've tried for days to make sense of them, because I understand that line in different ways. First of all, I can't even say what is "The darkness of someday". Is he referring to himself and the other demons or something else? My God, I broke down this sentence, like "Ok, this seems to be subject, this is the action, but then there's this grammar part...WTF is going on here, what are u saying man?!" 😭 I spent days on that line and like I said, I might try to talk about it on stream because maybe it's better if you hear me explain rather than writing about it. Okay, so there's another thing that has to do with furigana. I didn't write on the page because a word that has furigana only once, appears a few times with its regular reading and that's the word 悪魔 "demon". In the second panel in the speech bubble on the left, ぼくら "we" is the furigana for 悪魔 the rest of the times where the word demons appear, it's only that reading, so I didn't want people to think that InnerKuro's actual word in the last panel could have been something like "We (ぼくら) are in every person".

Page 30.

Here we have the word 感情 "emotions/feelings" with the furigana 　ぼく (first person pronoun "I"), but only in the second, third and fourth panels, the first time where it says "ugly feelings", it's only that reading. Previously on page 28, Kuro said "these helpless and uncontrollable emotions" and given how the word is associated with InnerKuro here, Kuro could have implied "You (InnerKuro/emotions) are also a part of me." InnerKuro's last line sounds weird because he doesn't simply say "I will protect you". きみの一番大切なきみを守るものだ。 Like if I were to translate literally, it would be something like "I will protect your most important/precious you" There's a possessive there and it's きみのきみ It sounds weird and it's possible that Tanaka sensei is fuckin with us because the word きみ "kimi" that usually means "you", there are other words that have the same pronunciation and look at that, there is 気味 and looking in the dictionary, its synonymous with 感情 "emotions/feelings". I hope that the way I translated makes sense... Last page.

The sentence is here is also weird like the previous one and it needs explaining. I tried my best to convey it's meaning. 親愛なる and 愛をこめて are phrases that can be used when writing letters for example, the first part can be "Dear" (friend or whoever you're addressing) and the last part is "with love/affection" 親愛なるすべてのきみへ、愛をこめて。

The weird part about the sentence is すべてのきみ again we have きみ which means "you" and the phrase translates as "all of you" and you can see how I tried to translated in such a way to make it clear that it's only about one person, because saying "all of you", could be interpreted that it's about more people. The phrase is saying something like "your whole being/ all that makes you" So, the way I translated might sound weird but hopefully I managed to convey the meaning.

#servamp #chapter 128 #my translation

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maxbegone · 1 month

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happy wednesday! thank you for the tag @iboatedhere ♥️

u ever think about how pineapple is eating u when u eat it the enzymes they like eat away at ur skin or w/e it’s why ur mouth will feel weird Alex is frustrated and honestly pretty bored, hence the spam texting. He’s been chipping away at this fucking paper for a week, it’s nearly fifteen pages long and he knows he’s going to have to cap it soon. But there’s a point he’s still trying to make here that he cannot figure out how to articulate, and he’s quite literally about to pull his goddamn hair out. It’s going to be a bitch to edit and he honestly might set his laptop on fire and move to the mountains if it means he can just be done. But Alex knows himself well enough, which means he’s going to keep staring at his computer screen in attempt to make something happen until the words form a weird Rorschach-like image and he blacks out. Maybe that’s why he texted Henry. Actually, he texted June and Nora, both separately and in their group chat, but Nora hasn’t responded and June told him to touch grass before putting her phone on Do Not Disturb. He sighs heavily and falls back into his chair, slumped in a way that absolutely cannot be good for his back, not that he cares. His mug has run dry when he brings it to his lips, and he silently thanks his caffeine-addicted self for the needed refill and a break to stretch his legs. Who knows, maybe if he drinks enough coffee, he’ll somehow transcend into a different dimension. Then he won’t have to hand in this paper. He’s really just asking for impossible solutions here, isn’t he? It takes approximately two and a half strong cups and a few bites cold leftover sesame chicken for Alex to even feel remotely capable of returning to his laptop. Jesus, his eyes are already starting to sting at the thought of staring at the screen again. He presses his fingers into his eyes beneath his glasses just as his phone buzzes on the counter next to him. He lowers the brightness and squints at the screen. Bromelian. What? Another text comes through: That’s the name of the enzyme. Alex outwardly laughs. He didn’t expect a legitimate response, let alone from Henry. “Is that so?” Alex asks when the call connects, equally as surprised that Henry answered. “Why are you calling me at half one in the morning?” “Why are you answering at half one in the morning?” He mocks. “Just say one-thirty, man, it’s not that complicated.” Henry ignores him. “Have I not told you that I’m the prince of insomniacs?” “I’m pretty sure it got lost in translation. See, from my perspective, you’re the prince of blowjobs.”

tagging @kiwiana-writes @rmd-writes @cha-melodius @orchidscript @indestructibleheart

#wip wednesday #rwrb fic #firstprince #firstprince fic

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 2 years

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OFF TO THE RACES- J.B BARNES

Pairing: Dark! Stalker! Bucky x Slightly Dark! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: you stumble across an intriguing stranger at your dark and shabby motel you're hiding out at, curious as to who he is. one thing leads to another, and you realize bucky may not be the prince charming he made himself out to be.

WARNING. THIS CONTAINS DARKER CONTENT, SUCH AS STALKING AND SEX POLLEN/ DRUGGING. READ WITH CAUTION.

Warnings: fingering, sex pollen/ drugging, stalking, manipulation, overstim, petnames, swearing, daddy kink, bondage, praise kink, slight dumbification, drugs and booze used, mentions of readers bad past, overstim using pool jets (yup. i did this), catcalling, slight pet play if u squint

“my old man is a tough man, but he got a soul as sweet as blood-red jam- and he shows me, he knows me, every inch of my tar-black soul. he doesn't mind i have a flat broke-down life- in fact, he says he thinks it's what he might like about me. admires me, the way i roll like a rolling stone”- off to the races, lana del rey

It was quiet, in room 238.

Hollow, and empty.

A shell of something, something once beautiful and bright. Now it was dimmed, a star robbed of its shine and beauty. The cream wallpaper peeled at the edges like wilting flower petals, exposing the roughness of the plaster underneath.

You watched the smoke from your cigarette slither up to the ceiling, past the no smoking sign, intermingling with the faint light that the bedside table provided as it hummed quietly.

The lace sheets were comfortable, you noted, sprawled out on the bed like a child as you breathed in the toxic smoke, feeling the smog coat your throat, your lungs- stealing the breath from you.

It was a good burn. The kind of burn you needed, to fill the emptiness of this room.

But it wasn't all empty, your thoughts chanted at you, your glazed-over eyes noting the shadows that danced across the wallpaper, keeping you company through the night.

They had eyes, you realized. Someone was watching you.

You looked over to the window, watching the curtains sway in the cool gentle breeze as you smushed the butt of your cigarette in the ashtray, perched upon the bible they had left you here.

There was no money between its pages. You had already checked.

Sitting up slowly, padded over to the window, peering out at the rows of closed doors of the motel you had stopped at. It was no Chateau Marmont, but it would have to do, with the spare change in your pocket.

The kind of money that bought the flickering Motel 6 sign outside, the kind of money that bought humming vending machines that never worked, stealing your coins like the men in your past had.

The kind of money that had bought closed windows, the red velvet curtains drawn tightly shut.

Except for one.

You zoned in on the pair of eyes watching you from afar, the hairs on your arms sticking up from his cool gaze.

He was beautiful. Dangerously beautiful.

The kind of beauty that was near painful to look at, because you knew he would hurt you. His demeanor was dark, the shadows seeming to wrap around him like a cloak, filled with mysteries you urged to find out.

You were enchanted to him, and his crystal blue eyes, the orbs sucking you in greedily as you watched his large, 6’5 figure tilt his head to the side.

To observe you. To take you in, as you were doing to him.

The smokey air was sucked from your lungs as you saw him smirk, the boyish grin plastered across his face making it harder to breathe, as if those very shadows had slipped down your windpipe, crushing your lungs.

You were a deer in headlights, only thinking to gently wave as he gave you a curt nod. His hand snaked out to pull to curtains shut, his shadow still lingering in your room.

A trace of him, you felt, was never leaving. Those cool, blue eyes stayed with you as you undressed in the vanity mirror, taking note of each freckle and beauty mark.

They stayed with you as drew the curtains shut, just as he did a few minutes prior.

It was when you laid your head down, and fell into a deep slumber they haunted your nightmares.

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“ Just a vodka cranberry please.” you requested softly to the bartender behind the counter, his quick nod your only response before he bustled off to fetch the Grey Goose.

You sighed, fingers drumming against the scratched-up mahogany, as you stared at the white towel on the man's shoulder as he made your drink, the pale hanging lights making the pink of your drink seem dull.

Everything in this old bar seemed dull, but you didn't expect much from this part of town. Despite this, it was bustling for a Friday night, the velvet booths filled, and all pool tables and dart boards were occupied.

It was stuffy, a thick haze of smoke above your head, that seemed to trickle into your drink as the bartender slid it over to you. “Thank you sir.”

You prayed for the man behind the counter would say something to the men that had been catcalling you for the past fifteen minutes that you desperately tried to ignore.

He didn't, of course. Why would he?

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you took a sip of your drink, the booze burning as it went down. Definitely too much vodka. One of the men made a comment disgusting enough you fought the urge to hurl, your fingers curling around the chipped wood of the bar in an attempt to stop yourself from clawing their eyes out.

You could feel their eyes on you, staring at the back of your head.

With another pair of eyes.

“Are those men bothering you doll?” the man asked calmly, making you jump.

The eyes.

The man from the motel was leaning against the counter, attempting to shield you from the catcallers, his large figure blocking you from seeing them. You realized just how large he truly was up close, almost needing to crane your head up to gaze at the stubble across his sharp jaw.

“Yes, but I don't want to make a scene. Really, it's fine.”

He shook his head, forehead creasing as he frowned. “No, it's not fine doll. C'mon, I can get you outta here, even if you just wanna go outside from some air. You’re safe with me.”

You nodded, his smooth, silky voice wrapping you up in its embrace making you safe. His arm shrugged around your shoulder, comforting you as he guided you through the busy crowd towards the door.

“Hey where ya goin sweets?” a voice called, making you shiver. “With her boyfriend, you cunt.” the man from the motel hissed, guiding you out the door, into the brisk cool night.

You let out a breath out you didn't know you were holding, inhaling the fresh air like you were starved. “Thank you so much sir.” you said, finally finding the ability to work your vocal cords again.

“Of course. You looked uncomfortable, and I hate seeing pretty girls like you uncomfortable.” he smiled softly, making you blush.

“Can I get your name? If you don't mind… I like to know the names of the damsels I save.” he asked, making you laugh. “Y/N. You?”

“Bucky.” You smiled, the name reminding you of birds chirping on a spring day. It was a gentle name, for a gentleman. “Bucky from 258?”

He laughed, the sound echoing off the broken glass bottles that littered the ground. “The one and only.”

You soon fell into an easy rhythm with the man, picking up a conversation that wasn't awkward. It was… natural. It was nice. You couldn't remember the last time you had shared that with a man.

You weren't sure how much time had passed, the clouds threatening to cover the full moon that hung high in the sky grazing by.

It was late, and it was cold.

Bucky must have sensed your sudden discomfort, checking the golden watch that lingered on his wrist. “Hey, it's late. Why don't I get you back to the motel? I’ve only had a Black Cristal- I’m good to drive.”

“No, no it's okay I can walk. I don't want to trouble you.” He shook his head, firmly grabbing your wrist to guide you over to the parking spot on the far side of the lot, where a black Harley was left, its handlebars gleaming.

“And risk the chance of that happening again? No doll, I promise it's okay. You never know what kind of bad things lurk around here at night.”

His wolfish smile made you shiver, pearly white teeth gleaming like the keys he jangled from his pocket in the pale moonlight. The hairs on your arms raised, goosebumps spreading across your skin as he revved the engine, the loud noise over trampling the muffled conversation and the electric guitar from the jukebox that trickled out of the rickety walls that had previously smothered you.

It was all you could hear, your only option in this dusty, dingy parking lot. Your body moved on its own accord, your leg swinging over the bike, arms wrapping around Bucky's waist, his skin warm to the touch through the fabric of his t-shirt.

“Drive slow will ya? I need my head still attached to my body by the end of this.” you teased, attempting to hide your fear as you clung to him tighter, his hands revving the throttle making your heart plummet as he eased out of the parking space.

“Oh sweetheart, there’s one thing you should know about me. I don't do slow.” he laughed, the flickering street light reflecting the wink he threw back at you through the mirrors your only warning to brace yourself before he sped out onto the empty highway.

The adrenaline was pumping through your veins as the clouds of dust and dirt sputtered up behind you, a laugh escaping your lips as you clung to the man tighter.

It was an internal battle with yourself as you sat upon the black leather seat, hating yourself for enjoying this. This… unexpected freedom. You hated the relief you felt with this man, this stranger who had swept in to save you, to come to your rescue.

You had known him for an hour, and you deep down it was wrong, oh so wrong to be so open, be so vulnerable with a stranger as charming as Bucky. You would already hear your father's cruel voice snapping at you for jumping the bones of a man you had just met.

But wasn't that what made it more thrilling?

The sense of freedom that chased after you, a horse clamoring to the finish line was something you hadn't felt in months. It was safe here, with Bucky. No endless running, no flinching anytime there was a knock at your door, a car pulling by a parking lot of any old motel you stayed at.

There was only a calm, safe security on the back of his bike, whipping through your hair as he zoomed past the speed limit, much faster than the numbers that were plastered on it.

Fire seemed to nip at your heels as his tires squealed against the pavement, making you howl in the night, head resting against his back as you clung onto him for dear life.

The scent of his husky cologne and the whipping of the wind roaring in your ears was enough to shield you from the evil smirk that was plastered across Bucky’s face as he drove onwards into the darkness of the night.

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You still sensed his eyes on you, wherever you went. Could still smell that expensive cologne that smelt of wealth and riches, reminding you of times that had been robbed from you.

It had been a few days since your adventure with Bucky, but it was almost as if he never left your presence. He was a ghost during the hours of the day, but the second twilight rolled around- he was there.

He was always there, back in that very spot you first saw him. You wondered where he went in the day.

Did he have a wife and kids he needed to tend to? A job?

The questions nagged at you, drowning you just as the bottle of liquor did that had found its place on the bedside table. He was handsome, and he seemed to have bank for his buck. His motorcycle certainly proved as evidence.

So what was he doing in such a dingy motel? The question stuck with you as you pulled yourself back up from the bed, sheets slightly damp as your hair towel had unraveled itself from around your body.

It was cold in this room when you weren't in the hot water from the shower that lasted approximately two minutes, the water droplets chilling you to the bone.

Bucky wasn't at his place at the curtain tonight, despite it being late. You had been waiting for him all night, but he was a no-show. He seemed to appear at the times you least expected it- catching you off guard.

You sighed, not interested and playing his games as you grew bored of waiting in your towel. It slipped off to the carpet below, and you stepped over to slide a baggy tee over your head.

To your dismay, the bottle of brandy was empty- much like the rest of the motel room was, making you huff in defeat.

I guess it was a Pepsi night after all. you thought, dragging your feet over to the nightstand, propping a cig in your mouth. The lighter flicked to life with a few clicks, and you made your way out the door, sliding the deadbolt from its place.

The air was hot and heavy as you walked outside, humidity seeming to cling to your skin like leather. The smoke you exhaled puffed out to blend with the stickiness, and you pulled out the handful of change you had snatched before letting the door shut behind you.

It was no booze, but it'd have to do for now.

You honestly weren't even sure if you had enough money to buy another bottle, the pricey little scraps of nightgowns and cigarettes taking a chomp of your budget each month.

You were tired, eyes heavy as you followed the dim humming of the old vending machine down the hall. Its bright, blinding lights drew the bugs to it, illuminating a pathway as you trailed after them, smoke still in hand.

The machine was ancient, you were honestly surprised there were still cans in it. Vintage- of course, probably coke that still had literally crack in it. But honestly? You’d take what you could get.

Propping the change in, you heard the coins fall to the bottom, but the drink remained. “Stupid fucker.” you growled, banging the machine harshly with your fist. Of course, it didn't work.

Did anything in your life?

A few kicks and many curse words later, the drink had fallen from its place into the slot, and you snatched it as if the machine would swallow it back up- your smoke long gone as you chugged it back.

You finally made your journey back to the room, desperate to get out of the mugginess. You wondered if Bucky had finally returned to his room for the night, excited to see him in the window again.

Would he be wearing the dark blue button-down you adored so much? Or the red henley?

You were anxious to find out, hand reaching out to unlock the door. But something stopped you.

Swim at 1? I’ll be waiting for you. -B

The paper was taped to the door, fluttering gently in the breeze before you snatched it from the golden plated numbers. A smile dawned on your face, and you opened the door as quickly as you possibly could.

The ticking of the antique clock showed it was quarter to 1, and it seemed to follow you as you grabbed your bathing suit, heading into the bathroom to slip it on.

Mocking you.

Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Hurry up. Hurry up.

You fixed up your hair, despite knowing it’d get ruined later before you snatched a towel from the rack, slipping on flip-flops the best you could with haste.

The clicking of your sandals bounced off the cement as you heard your door shut behind you, automatically locking you out. You paid no mind as you headed on your way, squeaking of the shoes echoing down the corridor, mixing in with the chirps of the crickets under the full moon.

The pool was behind the motel, hidden away in a little alcove by the bushes. It was quiet and dimmed, only a few odd lights illuminating the space. You felt goosebumps form, the hair on your arms rising as you pushed the gate open.

The creak seemed like a howl as it reverberated through the air eerily. It clanged shut, a voice following it making you jump.

“Hello again, you.” his voice whispered down your spine, emerging from the shadows. “You scared me!” you confessed, hand over your thudding heart as a means to soothe it.

“Did I now doll?” he teased, and you couldn't help but drool as he stepped into the spotlight, water droplets running from his hair down his toned chest.

“You went in without me?”

“Just to see if the water was warm enough.” he winked, making you smile as he reached out a hand- one that you happily took. It was warm and soft despite the night's chill, and you squeezed it out of comfort.

Bucky was safe. He had taken care of you at that bar, and he always looked out for you, even if it was from a distance. You trusted him, oddly enough.

That didn't come easy for a girl like you.

You dropped your towel, fully vulnerable to him in your little red bikini as you watched him step down, falling back into the water. You shoke your head as he nudged you to come in, sitting on the second step and swirling the water with your feet much more your style.

“Um, Bucky?” You were cautious to ask him such a simple, but stupid question in your mind, worried if he would judge you. “Yes starlet?”

“I don't mean for this to sound intrusive but.. where do you go during the day? I only ever see you around here at night.”

He smiled softly. “It's not intrusive at all. I don't mind. I have a job that requires me to rather.. look after people. Making sure they're safe.” he replied, the stern look in his eyes telling you he was advancing with his story any further.

You didn't want to pry anymore.

“What about you?”

“What about me? Where do I go during the day?” you asked, and he nodded.

“I don't do much or go anywhere anymore. I used to though.” you replied, watching the water ripple as your legs sprawled out, feeling weightless as they floated. “What would you do?”

Scam men. Take their cash, until my ex-boyfriend stole it all and left me with no one and nothing.

You sighed, watching his eyes widen with curiosity, seeming intrigued by your silence. You couldn't tell him the truth, obviously. He’d have you tossed away in the county jail behind the old, rusty bars you shuttered at each time you had visited your father in the years prior.

So you did what you always did. Lied.

“I had an office job, one I couldn't stand if I’m being honest with you. So I left, and well..”

“Found yourself here?” You nodded. “Exactly. Now I’m here, swimming with a man I barely know, drinking cheap Pepsi and smoking shit cigarettes.” you laughed as Bucky swam closer to you, his hand grazing your thigh.

“Is that such a bad thing? We have so much time to get to know each other sweetheart. Endless amounts.” he smirked, panting a little kiss to your thigh and the water droplets stuck to it.

You welcomed it with open arms, feeling your chest expand as you leaned forward towards him. “Should we cheers to that? With shitty Pepsi?”

“I got something even better.” he laughed, water splashing as he stepped out of the pool, dripping a trail down onto the concrete as he walked to fish something from his bag he left on the plastic recliners.

Glass clinked as he pulled out two whisky glasses, and a bottle of bourbon to match. You clapped in delight, his back turning once more as he set them down, pouring little amounts into each cup.

“I don't have any ice but I hope this does the trick.” he smiled, jogging back over to sit with you upon the step. “It's perfect. Better than vending machine shit.” you joked, giggling as he raised his glass up.

“Cheers to us- meeting. And vending machine shit.”

“Cheers!”

Clink! The booze was bitter as you swigged it back, burning your taste buds as you let out a little cough.

“That shit is strong.” you gasped, shaking your head as if that would help it go down better. Bucky's eyebrows rose as he slowly sipped his, setting the glass down next to yours.

“But hey, you drank it! Good girl.” he exclaimed, nudging your shoulder.

Good girl. Damn him for taping into your praise kink.

“I think we best stick to fruitier drinks if we're going to be drinking during dates. From now on, it's a club rule.”

“A date eh?”

You shrugged, trying to act as if his charming persona wasn't getting under your skin.

“I mean, what else would this be? People go on dates to get to know each other. And I wanna know you Bucky.”

A gust of wind blew through the air, ratting the tree leaves as you shivered, his hand slipping into yours to give it a reassuring squeeze. “I know. Let's start in the pool, okay?”

“Buts it freeing in there.” you complained, watching in awe as he dipped his body back in, as if the chill didn't have a single effect on him.

“I’ll keep you warm doll. I promise.” His arms reached out, encouraging you to get in them, to wrap your body against his larger build like a teddy bear. “You promise?”

“First thing about me sweetheart, is that I would never lie to you. C'mon, you're safe with me.”

He had protected you last time when no one else had. Listen to him Y/N. You know you want to.

You nodded, hissing as the water brushed against you the deeper you sank, arms reaching out towards him as you submerged fully into the water. Your teeth chattered, Bucky's large arms scooping you up as you clung closer to him.

“There we go. See, it’s not so bad.”

“It's pretty bad. You're just saying that to make me feel better.” you shivered, his body shaking from his loud chuckle. “Maybe I am. But nonetheless, you listened to me. Didn’t you?”

Yes. Of course I did.

“We’ll get out soon. I just wanted an excuse to see you in that adorable bathing suit.” he confessed, making you roll your eyes, burying your face into his neck as he swayed you.

“Smartie pants. I could have just shown you in my room. Where there is no freezing pool water.” you growled.

“You can still show me in your room after this, if you'd like.” Your heartbeat quickened, beating so fast he could feel it thumping against his chest at his words.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you sweetheart? Hmm?” he looked down at you, teasing you.

“Maybe I would.” you confessed shyly, fighting the urge to nibble his skin, breathing in his cologne again. “But I still don't know anything about you. It'd be pretty dumb for me to invite a man to my room if I didnt at least know his favorite animal.”

“Cats.” he smiled softly. “Long haired ones- to be exact. I'm a Pieces, and I drink my coffee with one cream, no sugar. Lord of the Rings is one of the best book seres ever made, and white lace is my favorite on you.”

You were stunned.

Well you sure as hell weren't expecting that.

“Really? The white lace?”

“It makes you look so dainty and delicate. Like an angel.” he breathed, his compliments making you more excited by the minute. The sudden urge, primal and needy took over your body, your head seeming to get cloudy as it became harder and harder to think.

The air seemed even mugger then it was before, its stretch lingering of Buckys cologne. It was intoxicating. You weren't sure where this sudden need came from, but it was all you could feel.

Tingles erupted on your body as the water brushed against your thighs, Bucky's hand coming up to stroke your hair.

“Bucky? Don’t you feel it's a bit… warm out here now?” you asked,, confused as you felt sweat linger at your temple. “Weren't you just saying how cold it was and how you wanted to leave?” he joked, holding you closer to him as he slowly walked over towards the side of the pool.

Yea, yea I know. Is just now…. it's getting hard to think. I'm not sure whats going on.” you confessed, watching as the jets started to kick on, bubbling against your thigh.

“Well, you gotta use that dumb little girl brain to tell me what you need okay? So that way I can help you, and we can get you feeling all better.” he reassured, his words making you dizzy.

“M’just- It's so tingly. I don't even know…” you trailed off, feeling woozy.

“That's okay doll. Just set your hands on the side of the pool and hang on real tight mkay?” he helped place your hands on the concrete, smiling as you obeyed.

“There we go, atta girl. You're just feeling a lil funny so I'm gonna take all the funny feelings away. I'll get you feeling all better okay?” he murmured, an arm wrapped around your abdomen to hold you in place as his fingers started to pull down your bottoms.

“Bucky please.. please help me-”

“Shh, shh be nice and quiet for Daddy okay? You just gotta take what I give you, just remember I’m helping you.” he cooed softly, tossing your bottoms somewhere else amongst the pool, watching them float away as he had you under his control.

“I think the drink.. was too strong..” you panted, hand leaving the concrete to briefly squeeze your breast through the thin bikini fabric, nipples hardened and tender as they poked through.

“Too much for a poor thing like you to handle.” he smirked, fingers slipping down under the water to pull apart your folds to expose your little bundle of nerves, all swollen and puffy.

“I feel- I feel-” you stuttered, throat seeming clogged as you fought to find the words, head lolling back with a mona as Bucky adjusted your clit against the throbbing jet.

“You're being so good for me sweetheart. I know, I know it's so much but this is what you need okay? You need this.” His voice seemed to itch the insides of your brain, dusting at the cobwebs as you rolled your eyes back, lost in pleasure.

It was overwhelming, the shocks that jolted throughout your body as the powerful bubbles hit you.Bucky helped you down helplessly as you squirmed and whined, your body feeling as if it would simply combust at the seams.

“Bucky-”

“Shush angel. It's just so difficult isn't it? Having those pent-up feelings?” he asked rhetorically, knowing you were much too far gone to answer. His fingers slipped inside your aching hole, and your walls clenched around him as you sucked him in.

“That's the spot. There we go, I know baby, daddy knows.” he smiled as you whimpered, drool beginning to seep from your lips as you babbled inherently, the sex pollen Bucky had slipped in your drink taking ahold.

Not that you realized- of course.

“Please mgh-” Your walls tightened around him, muscles spasming as he played you like an instrument, wrist flicking and twisting as he brushed your insides.

“Who's my good girl? Hmm? Who's my pretty little angel?”

“I am!” you moaned, cumming on his fingers with a cry, the pressure in your body snapping- unable to take anymore. Your orgasm rocked through you, vision spotting as Bucky cooed sweet praises in your ears.

They sounded muffled, like he had sunken you under the water. Your grip loosened on the concrete, nails scratching the smoothed surface as you felt the waves of sleep pull you under into the darkness.

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It was cold again once you woke.

The fire that sizzled in your core had gone out, embers no longer crackling as you felt the chill air from the air conditioner blast on your skin. Your throat ached, vision blurry as you blinked them open from sleep.

The room was dim, a small bedside table lamp lit beside you. It looked almost identical to your room, the familiar eyes even here as you slowly regained consciousness.

Had you passed out and Bucky had brought you back to your room?

You went to sit up, but something had jolted your body back. Something rubbed your wrists as you jerked, and you winced in pain as you looked down at the bounds that secured your arms in place.

Then it hit you.

You were drugged. Bucky had slipped something in your drink.

Fear swallowed you whole, and you croaked out a scream as you thrashed. Bucky came darting out from the closed bathroom door, eyes dark as he stormed over to you, hand covering your mouth to muffle the sound.

“There she is! Finally awake at last.”

You whimpered, whining into his palm as he pinned you down, stooping your useless fighting. “Shh, shh you have to stay quiet sweetheart. No more noise, or I’ll have to do something I really, really dont wanna do.” he sighed, shaking his head in disappointment as tears spilled from the corners of your eyes.

“I’m going to remove my hand, but you gotta stay quiet. Got it?” You nodded, too frightened to fight him. He slowly removed his hand, revealing your parted lips that were clamped shut, your eyes frantically scanned the room.

Photos of you were taped across the back wall, scribbles and lines drawn all across it like a maze. You shuddered, looking at the dozens of candids taken of you, dated back to your scamming days.

Who was this man? And how long had he been watching you?

“Who.. who are you Bucky?” you whispered, heartbeat racing faster and faster by the second. “

Your guardian.” he said cooly, as if stalking you and having you bound to a bed was an everyday occurrence for him .

It probably was. You weren't sure what to believe anymore.

A second bed was placed beside you, though no one occupied that one. You looked at him with horror, making him chuckle dryly as he sat back in the bed, hand coming up to brush a stray hair from your face.

“Don’t look at me like that angel. You know you'd be dead if it weren't for me? You should be thanking me.” he expressed, trying to soothe your anxiety.

“What do you mean?” you asked timidly, fingers gripping onto the rope that secured you down, trying to fight back the fight or flight response that was kicking into overdrive.

“I know what you've done to people angel. I’ve known for so long now. Do you know how many powerful people wanted you dead? They could have ended your little doe-eyed frame in a second. I couldn't let a pretty little thing like you die.” he murmured, a small smile blooming across his face as he looked over at his board with accomplishment.

”They all wanted you dead kitten. I couldn't let my little girl go through something like that.”

“I just..- I don’t understand Bucky.” you wept, tears salty as they ran down your cheeks.

“I know you don’t angel, I wasn't expecting you to. Still too dumb for that. But I have all the time in the world to show you how much you mean to me.”

“All the time in the world? Bucky I have to go back-” He growled, pinning your hands back down as you struggled to get up, uncontrollably sobbing.

“No, no don’t you see? Your mine now.”

“Ours, now Buck.” a voice called from the shadows, the shock burning through your body holding you as still as a statue in his arms.

Bucky stepped out from the shadows, except it wasn't really Bucky.

Bucky was coaxing you down upon his bed as the second man stepped out.

“Don’t get it twisted Steve. I saw her first, therefore she's mine.”

It was then you realised this man, identical down to the bold, blue eyes that stared down at you in your dreams, was wearing the dark blue button-up you adored.

Bucky wore the red henley that drove you insane at night, that had caused your hand to dip down between your legs in the odd hours of the night.

“Twins.” Bucky responded to your unspoken question, rolling his eyes at Steve, who stood watching you as he leaned against the wall- smirk plastered on his face as his arms crossed against his chest.

You gulped, throat dry and hoarse despite all the tears that had fallen to your lips, wetting them slightly.

“C'mon Bucky boy. Pets can have multiple owners, don’t you remember this?”

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@buckysboobs i luv u

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